Archive for August, 2010

Akismet: think out of the can

Friday, August 27th, 2010

Oh em gee, I just installed Akismet‘s anti-spam plugin on my blog, and I think it is the single most useful piece of software I’ve ever used.  The plugin does only one thing, and it does it extremely well–it filters and sorts the spam comments on my blog, so I can see the real comments.  This is a huge problem for me.  I have 41 real comments on my blog and 1,500 spam comments.  If I allow unmoderated comments, my blog fills with spam.  If I try to moderate the comments, I have to read through hundreds of spam comments to find a genuine comment.  It’s a huge pain in the ass, and Akismet handily takes care of it all.

I’m just blown away–I had this huge problem, and seconds after installing the plugin, 800 spam comments were moved into the spam folder, all the genuine comments floated to the top of the list, and I found a comment my grandma had posted a while back that I’d missed.  I’ve just never had a piece of software that solved 100% of the problems I was having.  That’s huge!

Caught black-handed

Friday, August 27th, 2010

My hand after an all-nighter converting a bicycle into an electric bicycle.  Dirty hands are how you know you’re alive!

Exeunt Omnes

Tuesday, August 24th, 2010

I found this in my old blog drafts.  I have no idea where I was going with this, but I really enjoy the beginning, so I’m posting it, rather than just letting it languish in my in-progress binMaybe I’ll finish it one day.  Until then, I give you:  the beginning of an unfinished story!

The stage lights turn on to reveal a used bookstore/music shop.  A labyrinth of wooden shelves fills the room, labels written in sharpie on masking tape strips.  A book collection adorns the shelves, appearing eclectic to the untrained eye, but actually a rather patchy collection of tattered paperbacks bought off of graduating college students. The owner Vincent and Darrel, one of the employees, are behind a fake-wood-veneer counter.  The shop windows are partially obscured by posters of upcoming local rock shows, and the sunlight filtering in between the posters makes curious geometric projections on the shelves.  Right up against the windows are stacks of rubbermaid containers filled with vinyl records, meticulously alphabetized.  Darrel is perched on a wicker stool, brow furrowed in concentration while juggling The Fountainhead, Atlas Shrugged and Anthem as high as possible.  Meanwhile Vincent is slouched in a red pleather chair, feet on the counter and a stack of Sartre paperbacks by his side, secretly planning to knock The Fountainhead, and only The Fountainhead, out of the air with a precisely thrown copy of Nausea. A few customers are walking the aisles, casually leafing through books and putting them back, while Steve, a pierced man wearing all black and a camouflage messenger bag flips through the vinyl, checking as he does every day for rare metal EPs.

One of the customers, a twenty-something girl in black pants and a tightly knit sweater strides around an aisle and up to the counter.

Customer:  Do you have anything by Charlotte Bronte?

Vincent (without taking his eyes off the flying Ayn Rand novels):  Did you check under H for Humorless and gawdawful victorian novelists?

Customer:  …

Darrel:  Or maybe F for Fucking go read something better?

Customer:  You guys are assholes!  How do you expect to..

Vincent seizes this opportunity to fling Nausea through the air, missing the Fountainhead but knocking Anthem flapping towards the back of the store. The other Rand books clatter to the floor next to Darrel.

Vincent:  We only sell to readers with taste!  If you’re going to buy that blather, at least have the decency to hide it in a stack of half-decent books so you could pretend it got in there by accident.

Darrel:  If you’re going to read a proto-feminist, at least read one with some sac!I think I saw some Virginia Woolf books on the shelf back there, next to the stacks of hentai.

The customer is visibly upset, looking back and forth between Darrel and Vincent before turning and stomping out.  The other customers look toward the counter and then go back to the shelves.

Steve(walking over, record in hand):  You really are assholes.

Vincent:  We try, we try.

Steve lays the record on the counter

Vincent:  What’s this?  Fleetwood Mac?

Steve (rolling his eyes):  Come on–this is the 1970 German release of English Rose.  Most of the tracks were completely remastered.  It’s not Mac, it’s like McMac, it’s so trippy.

Either Sadness or Euphoria

Tuesday, August 24th, 2010

As usual, Billy Joel gets it exactly right.

Here, it’s in the song Summer, Highland Falls from the album Turnstiles.  Dig it:

They say that these are not the best of times
But they’re the only times I’ve ever known
And I believe there is a time for meditation
In cathedrals of our own
Now I have seen that sad surrender in my lovers’ eyes
I can only stand apart and sympathize
For we are always what our situations hand us
It’s either sadness or euphoria

And so we’ll argue and we’ll compromise
And realize that nothing’s ever changed
For all our mutual experience
Our separate conclusions are the same
Now we are forced to recognize our inhumanity
Our reason coexists with our insanity
And so we choose between reality and madness
It’s either sadness or euphoria

How thoughtlessly we dissipate our energies
Perhaps we don’t fulfill each other’s fantasies
And as we stand upon the ledges of our lives
With our respective similarities
It’s either sadness or euphoria

 

 

Holy Crap! Mcmaster sells 80/20!

Thursday, August 12th, 2010

I love 80/20 aluminum extrusion.  It’s a framing system that lets you build sturdy things really quickly, without needing to do any involved machining.  If you’ve ever seen the displays at Ikea where they build motorized hammers pounding the ever-loving crap out of chairs for “endurance testing,” those are made of 80/20.  It’s fast, sturdy and easy to work with.  People build all kinds of crazy things out of 80/20, like this bicycle

or musical instruments, conference tables, and volleyball nets

The one bummer is how you order it–the ordering system is a medieval nightmare that involves pdfs and forms and cryptic numbering schemes and emails, and it still takes a week and a half to get an order in.

Now Mcmaster carries the same stuff, albiet with a smaller selection, but with a modern ordering system and logistics impressive enough (in Tom Waits’ words) to make a dead man come.  Hell yeah!

 

Quick fast, day 1

Tuesday, August 10th, 2010

When I was first diagnosed with diabetes, I really only had one pressing question:  what would I do if I was marooned on a desert island?  I’m insulin dependent, and if I don’t get insulin, my cells won’t be able to eat, my blood sugars will rise, and I’ll either starve or go into a coma.  Granted, I don’t intend to ever be without insulin, but if it happened, what would I do?  Could I change my diet and keep my blood sugar in a healthy range for longer?  Exercise more to keep my blood sugar down?  Manufacture my own insulin with out of blended rat pancreases spun down in an improvised centrifuge made of sisal twine and coconut husks?  What would MacGyver do?

So then I got an idea–I could get some answers about how my body responds to insulin, and food in general, by fasting and measuring my blood glucose frequently.  I could design little mini-experiments to isolate certain aspects of my endocrine system and get pretty good results.  When I learned that my endocrinologist has a program where he lends out continuous glucose monitors that stick into me for three days and measure my blood sugar every five minutes, I decided to use those for my experiments.

I just started my fast and continuous glucose meter today.  There’s three main phases of my experiment:  measuring my basal insulin response, measuring what my body does without any insulin, and comparing the effectiveness my insulin pump to traditional needle-delivered insulin.

For the first day, I’m going to inject myself with my normal dose of basal insulin.  Basal insulin is a slow-release insulin that works at a constant rate over 24 hours.  It’s used to signal my cells to eat the small amounts of glucose my body produces even when I don’t eat anything.  Watching my blood sugar change with a fixed amount of basal insulin in my system will tell me how well matched my basal insulin is to my body’s glucose production, and how that varies during the day as my body produces more or less glucose.

For the second day, I’m not going to inject myself with any insulin.  My basal insulin should wear off within ~30 hours of my first injection, and my blood sugar should start to rise, as my body produces small amounts of glucose.  I’m interested to see the rate at which my body produces glucose.  This is a more direct measurement of the rate than on the first day, as there’s no mechanism(insulin) reducing the glucose concentration.  I’ll let my blood glucose rise up to 250mg/dL (the threshhold for diabetic ketoacidosis, but one I’ve crossed a number of times accidentally), at which point I’ll put on a pump and give myself rapid-acting insulin to bring my blood glucose back down to my normal 100mg/dL.

On the third day, I’ll run the basal drip from the pump, which has an elevated basal drip between midnight and 6am.  The elevated drip is intended to account for the dawn phenomenon, where growth hormones released in my sleep inhibit insulin, causing a rise in blood glucose.  By increasing my basal drip, I try to keep my blood sugar constant while the growth hormones are being released.  Watching my blood glucose change will help me understand how well matched my basal pattern is to my body’s glucose production and other hormonal activity.

Fasting is a little tricky for diabetics.  Our sensitivity to insulin increases when we don’t eat, and without eating, we can’t bring our blood sugar back up if it goes low.  I decided to set some baselines:  For this test, I’ll keep my blood sugar between the range of 50mg/dL and 250 mg/dL.  50mg/dL is the point at which my thought processes and coordination get affected by my lack of blood sugar, and I’d eat a piece of hard candy if I got to that point, enough to bring my sugar up to my normal 100mg/dL target.  250 mg/dL is the point where I start to be at risk for diabetic ketoacidosis**, a potentially dangerous side effect of high blood sugar and low insulin.  I’ve had my blood sugar accidentally go to that level before, even overnight (and one for well over a month, before I was diagnosed), so I don’t believe I’m taking an undue risk.  If my blood sugar gets that high, I’ll give myself rapid-acting insulin to bring it down.  Because I’m not eating anything for the next three days, I don’t expect any rapid changes in blood glucose, and as long as I monitor it regularly, I don’t think this is a risky experiment.

I’m also very curious about fasting in general.  I’ve never fasted more than one day for Yom Kippur, and I’ve heard lots of good things about fasting improving health, alertness and self-awareness, and I want to experience it for myself.  It also sounds kind of hard, to not eat for three days, so I figure it’ll be an exercise in self-control and insulin calculation.  Let’s see how it goes!

** Editor’s note:  This turned out to be completely inaccurate.  All the information I read prior to the fast indicated that high blood sugar was correlated to ketoacidosis.  They are completely independent.  Ketoacidosis is what happens when your body doesn’t have any glucose to eat, so it switches over to eating fat.  In diabetics, it’s common for someone experiencing ketoacidosis to also have blood sugar, as the common cause is from not having any insulin in your system, causing your blood sugars to rise and your body to switch over to eating fat because it can’t get to any of the glucose.  Because I was fasting, however, and after ~36 hours into the fast, my body’s glycogen reserves were depleted, my blood sugar could stay perfectly level without any insulin in my system, but my body could still be undergoing rampant ketoacidosis, leading to a dangerous situation that I wasn’t actually monitoring at all.