Windows 10, the “internet of things,” and being a digital senior citizen.

Wired posted an article about the unveiling of Windows 10 today in which it hedges its qualification until the OS can prove its compatibility, and furthermore, revolutionize, all “internet of things” devices which power up most of our digital world in the year 2015.

Conversely, the internet of things, by nature, disqualifies the relevance of the normal, “archaic” desktop of yore. Who would have ever thought, just 20 years ago, we would be speaking of desktops in such antiquated terms. That they would become such digital dinosaurs?

From the article:

Meanwhile, IDC, another market research form, reported an 11.8 percent drop year-over-year, down to 66.1 million PCs shipped. To put that figure into context, the number of iPhones Apple sold over the holiday quarter—74.4 million—blew the entire PC market away.

Yes, people will continue to buy PCs, and businesses, in particular, will continue to run Windows on those PCs. Gartner noted that the number it posted in its latest report might seem small because businesses might have waited to upgrade their PCs in anticipation of the Windows 10 debut. But we’re far from the days when a desktop OS ruled the computing universe.

According to a recent report from analytics outfit comScore, 61 percent of total digital media time in the US is now spent with smartphones and tablets, while 39 percent is on the desktop. And the biggest players in tech—Google, Amazon, Apple and Facebook–are all putting their considerable resources towards mobile. Windows 10 will not change this.

We’ve come a long way, baby. I was 30 when the home computer and internet gelled into this digital highway that has exponentially gutted industry and society in the 20 years hence. I’m a senior citizen in the matters of computing. I rely entirely on a desktop, and occasionally, one of them portable computer laptop objects.

All kidding aside…the internet of all things is clearly not for me.

I remember when life was simply made up of isolated, unconnected, disjointed events and locations. You left the house and you left life. I loved this and it was how I grew up. It suited my misanthropic, asocial spirit. Now, you can’t be asocial any more because society wants to be up your ass 24/7.

I just can’t do it, man. Internet of all things. Screw that. I don’t use a smart phone, a tablet, 4G anything. I don’t care to take my digital reality outside the house. That world is the wild yonder, and none of this computer shit belongs there. I’m fully capable of affording and using internet of things paraphernalia: I just don’t want to. I snub my nose at your smart phone tools, so wrapped up in your screens. Dense robots of the new age.

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“Violence is the flavor of the month again.” Is death returning to Los Angeles?

I was born in Los Angeles, and have lived alternately in the city or in neighboring communities all my life. I remember Los Angeles when…

…it was wracked with death and mayhem, and when the red gang and the blue gang murdered each other daily over territorial grudges. I remember when gang culture was popularized and romanticized in the mass media. I took a buddy with me to rent a car in Hollywood in the early 90’s and he nearly melted when he saw Ice Cube and his entourage renting a large cargo van at the same place. My friend was beside himself and I was slightly befuddled because I didn’t care or know about Ice Cube and his crappy rap music. I’ve always hated rap music. I think it makes people stupid. I could believe stupid people choose rap music, but I try to give them the benefit of the doubt despite the fact my forced sense of fairness always comes back to bite me in the ass.

The news reported, on a nearly daily basis, the incessant deadly buzz of bullets and murders that streamed across newspapers and television screens. That’s how we spied the news in the early 90’s, the temporal pinnacle of Los Angeles’ gang culture, it seems. In fact, there was a decade-long period of time, from the late 1980’s through the late 1990’s, in which Los Angeles gave birth to its infamous trademark “decade of death” era during which about 1,000 people were killed each year in the city alone. The fulcrum for this decade of death were, of course, the Rodney King riots in 1992. The riots, the burned out guts of this city, fostered a nihilistic, ruthless despair that saw the Los Angeles turn mean and violent.

Several landmark incidents alerted us to the burgeoning violent nature of this sprawling metropolis we called home, such as the shooting death of Karen Toshima in 1988, or the horrible murder of Stephanie Kuhen in 1995. Innocent, young people were being murdered and we came to face the fact that human monsters had gained a stranglehold over our city.

This was a stretch of time that encompassed my mid-20’s through mid-30’s, and I spent much of my time frolicking the deadly streets, fearlessly rubbing shoulders with vile people. I was drawn into the collapsed culture of the times. This destructive, deadly force of civic nature radiated fiercely like electricity in the air. Shit just fell apart and hit the fan and we lived a life of no holds barred wanton grief, a sinister form of la vida loca, a phrase Ricky Martin turned into a hollow party gesticulation at the turn of the century. Death and reflective violence permeated the city’s tainted atmosphere during this time, and then…

…it all ended.

With a whimper. Silently. Gradually, until one day we awoke and discovered that Los Angeles was suddenly habitable and calm again.

Civilized. It was so gradual, we barely noticed it happening.

By 2012, violent crime in many of the cities adjacent to Los Angeles that had heretofore been known for their suburban violence, had plummeted anywhere from 20% to 50%, depending on which city you were speaking about.

According to Sam Quinones’ definitive “Los Angeles is great and safe again” piece, The End Of Gangs in Pacific Standard Magazine:

In 2014, the Los Angeles Police Department announced that gang crime had dropped by nearly half since 2008. In 2012, L.A. had fewer total homicides (299) citywide than it had gang homicides alone in 2002 (350) and in 1992 (430). For the most part, Latino gang members no longer attack blacks in ways reminiscent of the Jim Crow South. Nor are gangs carjacking, assaulting, robbing, or in a dozen other ways blighting their own neighborhoods. Between 2003 and 2013, gang-related robberies in the city fell from 3,274 to 1,021; gang assaults from 3,063 to 1,611; and carjackings, a classic L.A. gang crime born during the heyday of crack, from 211 to 33.

I can confirm this.

The atmosphere in this town, while not “kinder,” is assuredly less edgy, less lunatic, and more keen and sensitive to the materialistic, striving affectations of a vapid conformist culture that is groomed on social media and the real-time judgments and appraisals made possible because of our new cyber society. In this new paradigm, all people are embraced and welcome to the fantasy; if you doubt yourself, your standing, if you’re hesitant to proclaim your place in our plush new culture, just take a well-framed selfie and all will be good. We all belong thanks to the digital highway.

Even if…tomorrow it all crumbles to pieces and you find yourself languishing in the pit of despair again.

People are too busy living this falsely enabled sense of of belonging and they don’t have time to go capping on all their presumed real world enemies any more. We live in a kinder, gentler Los Angeles.

Forget the fact that some of that 1991 flair seems to be finding a strange resurgence in our city.

Sigh. I loved the quiet, peaceful L.A. Not again…we’re not doing this again, are we?

Firstly, Hollywood has seen proper to issue another ghetto romanticization flick which plays on the title of a 1999 movie with a similar name. Straight Out Of Compton, 1999’s Hood drama about an ex-con who looks to make it in the music industry, has now become Straight Outta Compton, a production that dramatizes the rise of real world Compton gangsta rappers, N.W.A.

So we have the pop cultural contribution; more Hollywood idolatry of Los Angeles black ghetto culture.

And now, add the new hash-tagged menace to 21st Century society Los Angeles, the looming #100days100nights. Black gang violence makes an encore appearance in the City of Angels!

This came into focus over the weekend, as the Los Angeles Police Department dealt with a series of shootings in South L.A. that left 11 wounded and one dead.

On social media, rumors swirled that one gang had promised 100 days of violence after a member was killed this month. Scores of people on Instagram and Twitter expressed concern, some using the #100days100nights hashtag. Others flashed gang signs and guns, vowing revenge.

Police are monitoring social media, hoping to prevent more violence. Authorities are looking for suspects in the shootings.

Townsend often uses social media to track people down and calm tempers. He said social media makes it easier to trace the origin of threats and rumors of retaliation. He also uses it to take the temperature of volatile communities

“It makes my life easier,” he said.

In a way, the social media chatter surrounding the violence in South L.A. has helped serve as a warning for people in the area.

Townsend also cautioned that the violence is not just about one gang at the center of the 100days100nights threat. Other gangs are feuding, which has “nothing to do” with 100days100nights.

“Violence is the flavor of the month again,” he said.

The shootings come as Los Angeles is experiencing a surge in crime this year after years of declines. In the 77th Street Division, which covers some of South L.A.’s most violent neighborhoods, shootings are up 20% so far this year compared with 2014, according to police statistics. The number of people shot has jumped nearly 31%, but there have been just two more homicides.

I wonder.

Los Angeles seemed to have escaped the national chaos that has torn America apart. In fact, as a way of contrasting this city with Chicago or St. Louis or Baltimore, I’ve told people that Blacks in Los Angeles are relatively sedate and behaved. If Los Angeles succumbs to the national trend, we might be embarking on a journey of national strife we are ill-suited to handle at this moment in time.

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“Mr. Robot” and my own Dark Introversion; bringing the world to its knees.

I once believed I was the epitome of a dark introvert until I met Elliot Alderson, the reclusive, anti-humanity hacker from USA Network’s Mr. Robot.

I once had the market cornered on “dark introversion.”

I was positive of it. I reveled in the notoriety.

Dark introversion was me, but furthermore, I was Dark Introversion. I embodied Dark Introversion, and then fucking Elliot Alderson cock-blocked me from realizing my ultimate anti-social potential.

I was the Dark Introvert.

Fuck you, Elliot.

Elliot is everything required of a dark introvert.

I have become quite the scholar of introversion.

For most of my life, I refuted my introversion and sought to live the extroverted life by chemically-enabled boldness; brash effusive sociability that was never truly me. I lived a phony life; a “trans-extrovert.” I never learned to be honest or genuine. As I absorbed and accepted my Introversion role over time, I examined what it entailed, and not only did I come to accept it, I came to note the many barely visible idiosyncrasies and malign tendrils that introversion denotes.

Along this early path of discovery I assumed that there were two types of introversion: the light and the dark. I assumed I was the dark, but worse, I assumed I had always been the dark. I believed my “dark transformation” was a revelation. I thought the binary assemblage of introversion denoted the Light and Dark, but I’ve come realize this is not so.

It is not quite the fixed nomenclature that defines introversion as we know it.

For instance.

I am the “dark introvert.”

The dark introvert is egotistical, vain, arrogant, misanthropic, delicately sociopathic, but above all, insulated. I belong to several introvert forums and groups, and after reading the contributions of various members, I have discovered introverts come in all flavors and designs, and that the antagonist school of introversion is something I would call the “Light.”

These Light Introverts can likewise be vain and arrogant, maybe even misanthropic. However, the Light Introvert is not fully encased in his own existence.

The Light Introvert seeks a trace of approval from the external world. The Light Introvert entertains a diminishing sense of optimism and beholds flowery petals of hope. A Light Introvert continues to battle against the elemental introversion that restrains such a soul. Whereas the Dark Introvert embraces the night and gloom while rejecting all acceptance.

For the longest time I was convinced it was an either/or dynamic and I sought no more clarification because I was ignorant and lazy.

Perhaps it was Elliot Alderson who convinced me otherwise. Those are mighty weighty credentials for a measly television show. Maybe I’ve given “Mr. Robot” too much credit for its own good, but the change in my perspective has dawned in the last few months.

In the realm of introversion, it is not either/or. Rather, it is an evolutionary continuum. Light eventually blends to dark, given enough time.

Problem is, there is rarely enough time for most mortal humans to process their own evolution. I am not a mere mortal so I surpassed the base mark. I have extraordinary powers of observation (as Pink Floyd once told us).

Introversion is a fluid unveiling, a growth of our psyche which we eventually experience assuming we introverts live forever. But we don’t. So many of us are stillborn at the earliest stage of introversion, and thus, the witnesses, our family and friends, also only glimpse the partial development of the introvert. Rarely is the fruition of the introvert so pronounced and visible, from beginning to end, in such a publicly visible manner as with Elliot Alderson.

And me.

The Dark Introvert is the “highest” (or most extreme) order of introversion. In Karmic or Miltonian levels, absolute Dark Introversion might equate to the “inner layers” of introversion, the dark fiery revulsion of personal debility and depravity.

Introversion is an evolution. Very few of us attain Darkness in our life; most wallow languidly in the early circles of Light Introversion.

As I noted in an earlier post, I believe Barack Obama is a Dark Introvert, and for this, I commiserate with him, but also, I fear for our country.

I would not want a Dark Introvert spelling out my destiny.

It’s bad enough that I spell out my own.

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All politics aside, this Barack fellow isn’t so bad.

Althouse takes Barack Obama to task for something he told a BBC interviewer before his African trip.

I don’t get too high when it’s high and I don’t get too low when it’s low.

Althouse, referring to Obama’s “rambling,” also juxtaposes his recent comment with a similar comment he made in 2008 after his first Presidential run.

“The line has one odd change. Back then, he said ‘when I’m high’ and ‘when I’m low,’ and now he’s saying ‘when it’s high’ and ‘when it’s low,’ she writes.

Obama’s behavioral, spiritual outlook appears to echo that of my own.

I’ve often striven (but failed to attain many times) for equanimity in my life. I dislike extreme emotion and fluctuating, excitable streams of perception and expression.

In this jumbled, chaotic, high-tech world of instant everything and communal real-time argument, equanimity has become a treasure, a rare find in a world that has retreated from any stoic semblance of steadiness and stability of affect. Now, exaggerated displays of emotion rule discourse, from celebrities on down to the nobodies who plaster their vanity across YouTube videos.

Where are all the real men? When did they become capricious and guided by glib, fleeting fancies? I thought this was the provenance of women.

Barack Obama is accused of displaying some of the traits that can be used to describe myself: aloof, misanthropic, supercilious, asocial, withdrawn.

The dark side of introversion.

I think I like Barack, for he reminds me of a great man: me.

But I would never choose to be President of this vast simmering heap of 300 million incompatible ruffians. It’s a testament to something in Obama’s character that he has attained such a lofty office riding on the tails of this dark introversion that usually spells obscurity in our modern, extroverted Western society.

All politics aside, not a bad guy.

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Here is the weapon that killed Kate Steinle…

I think I’ve found the weapon that killed the pretty young woman in San Francisco earlier this month.

steinle

Hours of footwork and digging, but the weapon has been revealed!

This is the first public glimpse of the tool of death that indirectly pulled that trigger:

mouth

Now the question is: can the weapon be charged as an accessory to murder or is the owner equally liable?

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