Subsequent posts to be found on The Nexus of Misc and associated blogs.
(My Facebook profile still links to this site, and due to a glitch in the new layout, I can't edit that info. So if you got here from there, go ahead and head to the Nexus.)
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Xetum Tyndall Watch Review (Coming Soon)
I recently discovered and purchased a Tyndall automatic wrist watch from Xetum, a new start-up watch company based in San Fransisco. Their current models, the Tyndall and the Stinson, are named after local California landmarks (Tyndall Park and Stinson Beach, respectively), and exude a minimalist, function-centric design aesthetic that I find appealing. (It doesn't hurt that they employ high quality Swiss ETA movements, like the 2895-2 used in the Tyndall, which usually find their way into far more expensive pieces.)
More to come once my package arrives!
More to come once my package arrives!
Friday, January 1, 2010
AkeOme, Dimension Diver's Rockman
AkeOme = Akemashite Omedetougozaimasu = Happy New Year!
I first laid eyes on the figure above in some preview pics from WonderFes 2008 (I believe). At the time, I naively believed that it might be a part of the Revoltech 2.0 releases slated for May 2009. Eventually, I came to terms with the fact that it was a garage kit--i.e. fan made--and that 1) I would probably never get my hands on it, since it would be released on a small scale and only in Japanese garage kit markets, and 2) even if I did get my hands on one of them, I'd have to perform all of the finishing work (cutting away the stray bits of resin, assembly, painting, etc.) myself. I've never been a modeling enthusiast in any sense of the word, and my elementary forays into the hobby (a pair of X-Wing and Y-Wing fighters I've long since lost, a few Warhammer 40K Necrons, etc.) did little to change my apathy. Nevertheless, unabashed Rockman maniac that I am, I vowed to procure one of the kits for myself if one ever popped up on the internet.
Flash forward to this November, when, out of the blue, a search for "Rockman Megaman figure" on eBay yielded an auction for the kit pictured above. It was a once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity, and I knew that I wouldn't be the only one who would bid high and often to win it. The fact that the kit originally sold in the doujin markets for 7000 yen made me feel a little better in applying my highest bid (an amount so obscenely large I feel compelled to omit it here . . . though I will say, despite several others sniping bids at the last minute, the final price was less than half of what I was willing to pay. Yay for consumer surpluses!).
After the kit arrived, I took stock of the joint pieces and modeling tools I would need to complete it, and made a corresponding order on HLJ.com. The tools and pieces arrived yesterday, so I ended up spending the last hours of 2009 assembling the figure. I finished around 12:11 a.m., just a few minutes into the new year.
This is what I ended up with. I decided to keep it as unfinished as possible (in part because I probably lack the skills/confidence necessary to clean things up without botching the job, in part because I'm just plain lazy), but pride demanded that I paint the power indicator on the side of the Mega Buster, and paint the eyes white before applying the eye decals (which was probably the most harrowing part of the entire ordeal). I had some experience putting together a jointed figure from a Volks (I think) model I picked up in Japan in 2008, which really made the process this time much easier.
The gray ball joints are from Yellow Submarine, which produces them in gray, dark gray, white, and flesh tones (light and dark). At first I considered painting the joints blue, but the more I looked at them, the better they looked in contrast to the rest of the figure, so I kept them the way they were.
The Dimension Diver team did a really great job on this mold, and I'm quite pleased with the results that even an amateur like me could produce. (They also made a kit for Roll, but, as many other observers have noted, their rendering of her legs seem a little too thick compared to the usual artistic renderings.) All in all, the whole ordeal won't stop me from purchasing another Rockman figure of equal aesthetic quality--or even purchasing the same one again, if a professionally finished one were ever to pop up within my consumer radar. Such is the curse of a lifelong Rockman otaku.
And a parting thought on the subject of Rockman: Rockman 10 comes out in early 2010. Otanoshimi!
*
Ever since I first laid eyes on an article about Mega Man 3 in the Nintendo Power magazine (I must have been around seven), I've been a rabid Rockman (Mega Man's original Japanese moniker) fan, snatching up nearly every Rockman-related piece of merchandise that comes within my range of vision. In fact, some of the first manga I special ordered from Japan were Rockman-related, including the prize of the bunch, Ariga Hitoshi's Rockman Megamix series. My biggest disappointment, however, has been that, in the 20+ years since Rockman was first introduced, the beloved character has yet to be treated to an truly exceptional three-dimensional rendering. Then, about a year ago, I saw it:
Ever since I first laid eyes on an article about Mega Man 3 in the Nintendo Power magazine (I must have been around seven), I've been a rabid Rockman (Mega Man's original Japanese moniker) fan, snatching up nearly every Rockman-related piece of merchandise that comes within my range of vision. In fact, some of the first manga I special ordered from Japan were Rockman-related, including the prize of the bunch, Ariga Hitoshi's Rockman Megamix series. My biggest disappointment, however, has been that, in the 20+ years since Rockman was first introduced, the beloved character has yet to be treated to an truly exceptional three-dimensional rendering. Then, about a year ago, I saw it:
I first laid eyes on the figure above in some preview pics from WonderFes 2008 (I believe). At the time, I naively believed that it might be a part of the Revoltech 2.0 releases slated for May 2009. Eventually, I came to terms with the fact that it was a garage kit--i.e. fan made--and that 1) I would probably never get my hands on it, since it would be released on a small scale and only in Japanese garage kit markets, and 2) even if I did get my hands on one of them, I'd have to perform all of the finishing work (cutting away the stray bits of resin, assembly, painting, etc.) myself. I've never been a modeling enthusiast in any sense of the word, and my elementary forays into the hobby (a pair of X-Wing and Y-Wing fighters I've long since lost, a few Warhammer 40K Necrons, etc.) did little to change my apathy. Nevertheless, unabashed Rockman maniac that I am, I vowed to procure one of the kits for myself if one ever popped up on the internet.
Flash forward to this November, when, out of the blue, a search for "Rockman Megaman figure" on eBay yielded an auction for the kit pictured above. It was a once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity, and I knew that I wouldn't be the only one who would bid high and often to win it. The fact that the kit originally sold in the doujin markets for 7000 yen made me feel a little better in applying my highest bid (an amount so obscenely large I feel compelled to omit it here . . . though I will say, despite several others sniping bids at the last minute, the final price was less than half of what I was willing to pay. Yay for consumer surpluses!).
After the kit arrived, I took stock of the joint pieces and modeling tools I would need to complete it, and made a corresponding order on HLJ.com. The tools and pieces arrived yesterday, so I ended up spending the last hours of 2009 assembling the figure. I finished around 12:11 a.m., just a few minutes into the new year.
This is what I ended up with. I decided to keep it as unfinished as possible (in part because I probably lack the skills/confidence necessary to clean things up without botching the job, in part because I'm just plain lazy), but pride demanded that I paint the power indicator on the side of the Mega Buster, and paint the eyes white before applying the eye decals (which was probably the most harrowing part of the entire ordeal). I had some experience putting together a jointed figure from a Volks (I think) model I picked up in Japan in 2008, which really made the process this time much easier.The gray ball joints are from Yellow Submarine, which produces them in gray, dark gray, white, and flesh tones (light and dark). At first I considered painting the joints blue, but the more I looked at them, the better they looked in contrast to the rest of the figure, so I kept them the way they were.
The Dimension Diver team did a really great job on this mold, and I'm quite pleased with the results that even an amateur like me could produce. (They also made a kit for Roll, but, as many other observers have noted, their rendering of her legs seem a little too thick compared to the usual artistic renderings.) All in all, the whole ordeal won't stop me from purchasing another Rockman figure of equal aesthetic quality--or even purchasing the same one again, if a professionally finished one were ever to pop up within my consumer radar. Such is the curse of a lifelong Rockman otaku.And a parting thought on the subject of Rockman: Rockman 10 comes out in early 2010. Otanoshimi!
Monday, October 19, 2009
Chapter Three: Done; Keyboard Woes; Prepping for NaNoWriMo
Reading: Great Fool: Zen Master Ryokan: Poems, Letters, and Other Writings (Ryuichi Abe & Peter Haskel, eds. & trans.)
Listening: YUI, "It's all too much"
Redraft: Book One, Ch. 4, v.30.0 (on hiatus until after NaNoWriMo 2009)
Looking back through my redraft printouts, I came to the unpleasant realization that it took me a full (read: neither the-better-part-of-a nor even a-day-less-than-a) month to rewrite Chapter Three. Granted, I could only make this realization upon actually completing the Chapter Three redraft at roughly 12:08 a.m. this morning--an accomplishment which fills me with equally inordinate levels of pride and exhaustion--but the cold, clear fact remains that this will likely be the last chapter of Book One I shall rewrite before diverting my creative attention to my project for NaNoWriMo 2009. That I still don't know precisely which story will comprise that project only underscores the need to prepare before I type out the first word on Nov. 1st.
Listening: YUI, "It's all too much"
Redraft: Book One, Ch. 4, v.30.0 (on hiatus until after NaNoWriMo 2009)
Looking back through my redraft printouts, I came to the unpleasant realization that it took me a full (read: neither the-better-part-of-a nor even a-day-less-than-a) month to rewrite Chapter Three. Granted, I could only make this realization upon actually completing the Chapter Three redraft at roughly 12:08 a.m. this morning--an accomplishment which fills me with equally inordinate levels of pride and exhaustion--but the cold, clear fact remains that this will likely be the last chapter of Book One I shall rewrite before diverting my creative attention to my project for NaNoWriMo 2009. That I still don't know precisely which story will comprise that project only underscores the need to prepare before I type out the first word on Nov. 1st.
*
Before I delve headlong into the month-long distraction that is NaNoWriMo, I thought I should pause for a somewhat elegiac note. Early last morning, I came to the sober conclusion that my Kinesis Contoured Keyboard, despite having provided what I believe was the best, most ergonomically sound typing experience of my $1000+ foray into the realm of ridiculously priced keyboards, would have to end up on the eBay chopping block. The reason, infuriatingly enough, lies in its American build quality: the tiny membrane switches at the top of the keyboard, which control hotkey essentials like the function keys and the print screen key--the latter of which I remapped to open My Computer at a key press--have either gone slightly non-responsive, or, in the case of the aforementioned print screen key, hyper-responsive, resulting in my email responses being incessantly interrupted by a never-ceasing torrent of My Computer windows. Seeing as this particular keyboard ranks among the most expensive to have ever crossed my desktop--the only 'board to top it is the Topre Realforce 91U that I'm typing on right now--its failure after a mere two years of ownership becomes particularly distressing. Coupled with the battleship-like build I've come to expect of my Japanese-made keyboards, along with my previous abortive ownership of the U.S.-made Das Keyboard Professional, my outlook on all U.S. keyboards has pretty much soured. A true shame, as no keyboard quite stacks up to the Kinesis Contoured's design. Only its implementation leaves much--too much--to be desired.
(Even as I type this entry, my RSI started to act up, and I was forced to switch to one of the Filco Tenkeyless models--ironically, the one that shares the same Cherry brown keyswitches as the Kinesis.)
(EDIT: and two hours after typing this post, I'm switching the Cherry-brown Filco for the Cherry-black. I swear, if the Kinesis Contoured came in a Cherry-black model, I'd plunk down another $300 just to give it a whirl, despite Kinesis's quality issues.)
(Even as I type this entry, my RSI started to act up, and I was forced to switch to one of the Filco Tenkeyless models--ironically, the one that shares the same Cherry brown keyswitches as the Kinesis.)
(EDIT: and two hours after typing this post, I'm switching the Cherry-brown Filco for the Cherry-black. I swear, if the Kinesis Contoured came in a Cherry-black model, I'd plunk down another $300 just to give it a whirl, despite Kinesis's quality issues.)
*
I'll follow up shortly with my progress in whittling down the three potential NaNoWriMo candidates this year to the one that will, with any luck, grow to 50K words (or more) by Nov. 30th. That and an updated entry on my writing desk, as soon I get it tidied up enough so that it won't break the camera when I take the picture.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Writers' Rooms, Cont'd.
As a follow up to my recent posting on writers' rooms (and my obsession thereof), I present a horribly insatiable time-pit from the Guardian: Writers' Rooms.
Also, as I realize the layout and makeup of my own writing desk has changed since the last picture I've posted here, I should probably upload an updated picture sometime soon. Consider it forthcoming.
Also, as I realize the layout and makeup of my own writing desk has changed since the last picture I've posted here, I should probably upload an updated picture sometime soon. Consider it forthcoming.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Fatalistic Optimism, Bar, Writers' Rooms, NaNoWriMo
It was about a week ago that I received word through the mail that I had passed the bar exam. There have been moments this week--many, in fact--where it all felt strangely surreal. I felt confident enough in my performance, walking away from the test site on the second day, but over the course of the three months I spent waiting for the results, my confidence disintegrated like rice paper in a warm bath. I began to visualize what I would do in the wake of failing the test, steeling myself for a disappointment that, on each successive consideration, seemed increasingly inevitable.
A part of this progression likely stemmed from my outlook on life: hope for the best, but expect the worst. I tend to exercise a sort of fatalistic optimism, largely indistinguishable from ordinary optimism, except that I explicitly force myself to consider the worst-case scenario, and accept that fact that it may very well come to pass. It's the same way that I eventually overcame my adolescent crisis of faith, where I used spend sleepless nights pondering what would become of a human being if there truly is no soul to carry one's consciousness beyond this mortal coil, no God Almighty to guide us, and if the sum total of human life is destined to return to all-consuming nothingness. The thought of a state--if one could truly call nonexistence a "state"--of thoughtlessness, of blindness without darkness, of soundlessness without silence, frightened me unlike any other horror, waking or dreaming. However, somewhere along the way in college, studying the luminaries of Western Philosophy, I somehow managed to come to terms with the possibility, accepted it as a necessary contingency if all that I believed yet could not prove were, in the final calculation, proven to be false. Nevertheless, even as I accepted the object of my deepest-seeded fear, I chose to believe what I had grown up believing, what I've seen and interpreted to be true in every detail of this existence. This was my interpretation of the traditional Christian concept of faith: to behold the wonders and depravities of this world, and choose to recognize the spark of Providence in each of them, a jewel of the divine set in countless facets of an intricate and unfathomable setting, composed of sometimes unremarkable parts that somehow fit together to form a whole beautiful and awesome beyond all human reckoning. The evidence is plain and abundant all around us, though they require a leap of faith in reaching any genuine conclusions; where I see God in his heaven, another could envision Chaos in its entropy, or, even more simply, nothing at all. Even scientific certainties are predicated upon an implicit faith in the reliability of sense perceptions, the inherent reality of the world around us, and the immutability--and knowability--of the physical relationships that bind this existence together. If every conclusion, whether hopeful, pragmatic, or pessimistic, requires the same implicit act of faith, then why not put my faith in the one I want to be so? From this perspective, a leap of faith is perhaps the greatest volitional act an autonomous actor is capable of, the ultimate expression of free will.
Granted, failing the bar pales whiter than alabaster next to utter nothingness, but the adjustment process for me was quite the same. Seeing as my faith--or, at least, plaintive hope--proved well placed in the bar's case, I can only hope my faith in the grander dilemma proves equally true.
And hope I will.
A part of this progression likely stemmed from my outlook on life: hope for the best, but expect the worst. I tend to exercise a sort of fatalistic optimism, largely indistinguishable from ordinary optimism, except that I explicitly force myself to consider the worst-case scenario, and accept that fact that it may very well come to pass. It's the same way that I eventually overcame my adolescent crisis of faith, where I used spend sleepless nights pondering what would become of a human being if there truly is no soul to carry one's consciousness beyond this mortal coil, no God Almighty to guide us, and if the sum total of human life is destined to return to all-consuming nothingness. The thought of a state--if one could truly call nonexistence a "state"--of thoughtlessness, of blindness without darkness, of soundlessness without silence, frightened me unlike any other horror, waking or dreaming. However, somewhere along the way in college, studying the luminaries of Western Philosophy, I somehow managed to come to terms with the possibility, accepted it as a necessary contingency if all that I believed yet could not prove were, in the final calculation, proven to be false. Nevertheless, even as I accepted the object of my deepest-seeded fear, I chose to believe what I had grown up believing, what I've seen and interpreted to be true in every detail of this existence. This was my interpretation of the traditional Christian concept of faith: to behold the wonders and depravities of this world, and choose to recognize the spark of Providence in each of them, a jewel of the divine set in countless facets of an intricate and unfathomable setting, composed of sometimes unremarkable parts that somehow fit together to form a whole beautiful and awesome beyond all human reckoning. The evidence is plain and abundant all around us, though they require a leap of faith in reaching any genuine conclusions; where I see God in his heaven, another could envision Chaos in its entropy, or, even more simply, nothing at all. Even scientific certainties are predicated upon an implicit faith in the reliability of sense perceptions, the inherent reality of the world around us, and the immutability--and knowability--of the physical relationships that bind this existence together. If every conclusion, whether hopeful, pragmatic, or pessimistic, requires the same implicit act of faith, then why not put my faith in the one I want to be so? From this perspective, a leap of faith is perhaps the greatest volitional act an autonomous actor is capable of, the ultimate expression of free will.
Granted, failing the bar pales whiter than alabaster next to utter nothingness, but the adjustment process for me was quite the same. Seeing as my faith--or, at least, plaintive hope--proved well placed in the bar's case, I can only hope my faith in the grander dilemma proves equally true.
And hope I will.
*
I've been fascinated with the writing desks--and by extension, rooms--of the professional writers I admire, ever since I first laid eyes on a photograph of the late-Robert Jordan's work desk. There is some poignant yet ethereal connection between an author's finished work and the means, process, and--yes--even locale of its creation. One concede that, much in the same way that we as people are largely shaped by the people, places, and events that ensconce our lives, so too must these artifacts, the products of human thought, toil, and rapture, be influenced in subtle but sensible ways by their author's surrounds at the time of their crafting.
I was, therefore, understandably delighted to discover a photo project called "Where I Write: Fantasy & Science Fiction Authors in Their Creative Spaces," which features several well-known authors in their workspaces. It satiates some quasi-voyeuristic urge that I think we all share, to a certain degree; yet at the same time, it also humanizes the works that, when rendered to us void of the human story of their production, can seem like godly, unwieldy things that we are doomed only to worship, an Asgardian fortress or Olympian height to which we may never aspire. It tethers them to the earth, brings them close enough for us to see the cracks, dents, and defects we might otherwise overlook, and forces us to acknowledge that the giants who built them not only were once human, but are human still.
It kindles hope where a hero worshiper and pedestal placer is apt to find an overabundance of despair.
I was, therefore, understandably delighted to discover a photo project called "Where I Write: Fantasy & Science Fiction Authors in Their Creative Spaces," which features several well-known authors in their workspaces. It satiates some quasi-voyeuristic urge that I think we all share, to a certain degree; yet at the same time, it also humanizes the works that, when rendered to us void of the human story of their production, can seem like godly, unwieldy things that we are doomed only to worship, an Asgardian fortress or Olympian height to which we may never aspire. It tethers them to the earth, brings them close enough for us to see the cracks, dents, and defects we might otherwise overlook, and forces us to acknowledge that the giants who built them not only were once human, but are human still.
It kindles hope where a hero worshiper and pedestal placer is apt to find an overabundance of despair.
*
And, on the apt segue that "despair" provides, I should come to acknowledge that NaNoWriMo 2009 is two weeks away. I thought that I would use it to write the historical fantasy I codenamed "Wander," but as the month approaches I increasingly fear that I may still lack the confidence to tackle a story that takes place not in a fantasy world of my own imagination, largely and safely divorced from our everyday reality, but in a doppelganger milieu whose verisimilitude relies so heavily upon its resemblance to the real world. I thought about working on a story in the fantasy milieu I codenamed "The Year of Our Lord," which would be a welcome respite from science fiction, and a way to hone the skills I've gleaned from the copious fantasy novels I've read in recent years, but I fear that that story is not yet ripe enough to pluck from the aether. Lately I thought of writing the first of two "prequel" novels to Book One, which actually may be ripe enough to be written, but a part of me feels that I should focus my efforts on something that lies outside the familiar SF milieu that I've developed and dwelt in these past thirteen years.
In the meantime, this weekend is, once again, to be sacrificed on the altar that is Chapter Three. I'm hoping it will be done before the weekend is; and if it is, then perhaps I can turn greater attention toward deciding which story most deserves to be told next.
In the meantime, this weekend is, once again, to be sacrificed on the altar that is Chapter Three. I'm hoping it will be done before the weekend is; and if it is, then perhaps I can turn greater attention toward deciding which story most deserves to be told next.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Overclocked & Overdue
Re-reading: J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings
Redraft: Book One, Ch. 3, v.30.0
So it's been about two weeks since the last post. As could be expected, the lack of activity is mostly due to the fact that I haven't gotten as much work done on the redraft as I'd hoped--though with any luck, I might be able to make up for some lost time this weekend. If so, another post will be quickly forthcoming.
In other news--all of which, oddly enough, are computer-related--the new CPU heat sink I ordered from Amazon arrived this week, and after working up the courage to open up my desktop again, I removed the old stock heat sink and attached the new one. The new heatsink is nearly three times the size of the original, and required that I remove a vent tunnel from the side of my PC case in order to fit. At first, I was worried that I had done something wrong during installation, because the temperatures seemed to actually be a little higher than they had been with the stock cooler. However, after some digging through the BIOS, I realized the sink's fan was seriously underpowered, running at roughly 10% of its full RPMs. With a small tweak, things started to work smoothly, and I managed to improve my previous overclock (2.0 to 2.4 Ghz) to 2.66 Ghz, all with temperatures equal or better than they had been when the CPU was running at factory settings. Now other overclockers have apparently been able to crank this particular CPU model up to 3.0-3.2 Ghz without resorting to water cooling systems, but I found the system to be a little unstable--and running a little too hot--when I pumped the speed up to 3.0, with what I perceived as only a marginal performance boost over 2.66 Ghz settings. Moreover, at 2.66 Ghz everything from Photoshop to Fallout 3 appears to run just fine, the latter without the occasional drop in frame rates that I encountered at 2.0 Ghz, so I think I'm perfectly fine with the computer's current settings. At the end of the day, the desktop named Episteme now has the following stats:
Case: Antec NSK 4480B
Motherboard: Asus P5K-VM (775 Socket)
CPU: Pentium Dual-Core e2180 @ 2.0 Ghz (overclocked to 2.66 Ghz)
CPU Heat Sink: Thermaltake TMG i1
RAM: 3.25 GB (x2 2Gb Kingston PC2-6400 (800 Mhz))
Graphics: Palit ATI Radeon HD 2600 Pro 256mb
HD: WD Caviar SE16 640GB 7200 RPM SATA
External HDs: x2 WD MyBook Essential 3.5" 7200 RPM (one 500 GB, one 1 TB); Seagate Free Agent 2.5" 500 GB 5400 RPM
Monitors: x2 24" Monitors (Gateway & Unbranded HP (refurbished unbranded, so it technically doesn't violate my moratorium on HP products); each @ 1920 x 1200 resolution)
Keyboard: Filco Majestouch Tenkeyless 87-key FKBN87Z/EB w/ fake ALPS "fukka" keyswitches
Mouse: Kensington Slimblade Trackball
Tablet: Wacom Intuos4 Medium
I had been using what has, up to this point, been my favorite keyboard of all the myriad models that I've acquired and used over the years: the Kinesis Contoured. Its ergonomically cupped design, coupled with its brown Cherry keyswitches, really made it a powerhouse for a typist like me. The only thing that could have made it better was if it came in black Cherrys, which I've always found superior in tactility over the "tactile"--though I would call them mushy--browns. However, the Kinesis has a questionable build quality that makes it susceptible to nigh-inexplicable bouts of phantom input, especially around the membrane-type command keys at the top of the keyboard. Once before, an overactive keypad button rendered the keyboard nearly untypeable--it would convert several of the QWERTY keys into a makeshift number pad. Somehow, a thorough cleaning and unplugging/plugging of the keyboard's internals managed to bring it back from the cusp of death, and it served well for about six months. Then, when I was rushing to send an email before heading up to work, it started to actuate the Print Screen button over and over and over again. Now, on a normal computer, these incessant phantom keystrokes wouldn't affect functionality, but I've remapped that particular key to open up My Computer at a single button press, and so it resulted in me being interrupted every other second by a My Computer window. I'm going to try to clean it again in the hopes that the problem once again resolves itself, but even if it does, the unreliability of the keyboard makes me think it's future may lie in an eBay auction. When compared to the battleship-like build quality of Japanese keyboards like the Filcos, Topres, and Happy Hacking Keyboards, the Kinesis--like so many of our consumer goods--put U.S. manufacturers to shame.
On the bright side, the Kinesis's persnicketiness has enabled me to get to know my newest acquisition better, a Filco Tenkeyless with the newly revised "fukka" fake ALPS keyswitches. White ALPS keyswitches were renowned for their clicky-clacky feel--about as close to a buckling spring as mechanical switches have come--but, as far as I know, are no longer in production. Another "fake" ALPS keyswitch was previously available, dubbed "XM" by Filco, but it possessed a very balky feel, requiring too much pressure (even for a hammer-stroke typist like me) to be used effectively. The fukka switches are supposedly manufactured in the same facilities as the original ALPS keyswitches, and thus more closely replicate their feel (though I've heard from true connoisseurs that the original ALPS are still a touch better in tactility). purchased this keyboard based on my faith in the users geekhack.org forum, planning to resell my other "fake ALPS" Tenkeyless on eBay if I found the difference definitive, and their advice did not disappoint. This keyboard is a close second to the same model fitted with black Cherry switches, though it's quickly growing on me, and I am generally partial to clicky switches, the only (somewhat inexplicable) exception being blue Cherry switches, which just seemed too anemic to me, and somehow interfered with my usual typing tempo.
Redraft: Book One, Ch. 3, v.30.0
So it's been about two weeks since the last post. As could be expected, the lack of activity is mostly due to the fact that I haven't gotten as much work done on the redraft as I'd hoped--though with any luck, I might be able to make up for some lost time this weekend. If so, another post will be quickly forthcoming.
In other news--all of which, oddly enough, are computer-related--the new CPU heat sink I ordered from Amazon arrived this week, and after working up the courage to open up my desktop again, I removed the old stock heat sink and attached the new one. The new heatsink is nearly three times the size of the original, and required that I remove a vent tunnel from the side of my PC case in order to fit. At first, I was worried that I had done something wrong during installation, because the temperatures seemed to actually be a little higher than they had been with the stock cooler. However, after some digging through the BIOS, I realized the sink's fan was seriously underpowered, running at roughly 10% of its full RPMs. With a small tweak, things started to work smoothly, and I managed to improve my previous overclock (2.0 to 2.4 Ghz) to 2.66 Ghz, all with temperatures equal or better than they had been when the CPU was running at factory settings. Now other overclockers have apparently been able to crank this particular CPU model up to 3.0-3.2 Ghz without resorting to water cooling systems, but I found the system to be a little unstable--and running a little too hot--when I pumped the speed up to 3.0, with what I perceived as only a marginal performance boost over 2.66 Ghz settings. Moreover, at 2.66 Ghz everything from Photoshop to Fallout 3 appears to run just fine, the latter without the occasional drop in frame rates that I encountered at 2.0 Ghz, so I think I'm perfectly fine with the computer's current settings. At the end of the day, the desktop named Episteme now has the following stats:
Case: Antec NSK 4480B
Motherboard: Asus P5K-VM (775 Socket)
CPU: Pentium Dual-Core e2180 @ 2.0 Ghz (overclocked to 2.66 Ghz)
CPU Heat Sink: Thermaltake TMG i1
RAM: 3.25 GB (x2 2Gb Kingston PC2-6400 (800 Mhz))
Graphics: Palit ATI Radeon HD 2600 Pro 256mb
HD: WD Caviar SE16 640GB 7200 RPM SATA
External HDs: x2 WD MyBook Essential 3.5" 7200 RPM (one 500 GB, one 1 TB); Seagate Free Agent 2.5" 500 GB 5400 RPM
Monitors: x2 24" Monitors (Gateway & Unbranded HP (refurbished unbranded, so it technically doesn't violate my moratorium on HP products); each @ 1920 x 1200 resolution)
Keyboard: Filco Majestouch Tenkeyless 87-key FKBN87Z/EB w/ fake ALPS "fukka" keyswitches
Mouse: Kensington Slimblade Trackball
Tablet: Wacom Intuos4 Medium
I had been using what has, up to this point, been my favorite keyboard of all the myriad models that I've acquired and used over the years: the Kinesis Contoured. Its ergonomically cupped design, coupled with its brown Cherry keyswitches, really made it a powerhouse for a typist like me. The only thing that could have made it better was if it came in black Cherrys, which I've always found superior in tactility over the "tactile"--though I would call them mushy--browns. However, the Kinesis has a questionable build quality that makes it susceptible to nigh-inexplicable bouts of phantom input, especially around the membrane-type command keys at the top of the keyboard. Once before, an overactive keypad button rendered the keyboard nearly untypeable--it would convert several of the QWERTY keys into a makeshift number pad. Somehow, a thorough cleaning and unplugging/plugging of the keyboard's internals managed to bring it back from the cusp of death, and it served well for about six months. Then, when I was rushing to send an email before heading up to work, it started to actuate the Print Screen button over and over and over again. Now, on a normal computer, these incessant phantom keystrokes wouldn't affect functionality, but I've remapped that particular key to open up My Computer at a single button press, and so it resulted in me being interrupted every other second by a My Computer window. I'm going to try to clean it again in the hopes that the problem once again resolves itself, but even if it does, the unreliability of the keyboard makes me think it's future may lie in an eBay auction. When compared to the battleship-like build quality of Japanese keyboards like the Filcos, Topres, and Happy Hacking Keyboards, the Kinesis--like so many of our consumer goods--put U.S. manufacturers to shame.
On the bright side, the Kinesis's persnicketiness has enabled me to get to know my newest acquisition better, a Filco Tenkeyless with the newly revised "fukka" fake ALPS keyswitches. White ALPS keyswitches were renowned for their clicky-clacky feel--about as close to a buckling spring as mechanical switches have come--but, as far as I know, are no longer in production. Another "fake" ALPS keyswitch was previously available, dubbed "XM" by Filco, but it possessed a very balky feel, requiring too much pressure (even for a hammer-stroke typist like me) to be used effectively. The fukka switches are supposedly manufactured in the same facilities as the original ALPS keyswitches, and thus more closely replicate their feel (though I've heard from true connoisseurs that the original ALPS are still a touch better in tactility). purchased this keyboard based on my faith in the users geekhack.org forum, planning to resell my other "fake ALPS" Tenkeyless on eBay if I found the difference definitive, and their advice did not disappoint. This keyboard is a close second to the same model fitted with black Cherry switches, though it's quickly growing on me, and I am generally partial to clicky switches, the only (somewhat inexplicable) exception being blue Cherry switches, which just seemed too anemic to me, and somehow interfered with my usual typing tempo.
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