the website of michael suileabhain-wilson
I’m doing my reading for Information Privacy, and I just wrote the sentence “Steve Jackson Games indicates that a law enforcement officer seeking access to unread email would have to contend with the SCA.” (We’re reading the Secret Service case.)
Now, I meant the Stored Communications Act. But I enjoyed the image of the Illuminati BBS servers being guarded by a flock of people with plate mail and rattan swords. They can take our lives, but they’ll never take … OUR EMAIL!
I’m preparing for my Negotiations class, and I had an interesting idea for a Chess variant in which each move must be negotiated by the players. The player whose turn it is proposes a move, and the players bargain until they agree on the current player’s move. If the players cannot agree within 5 minutes, each player loses one piece of their own choice.
The negotiation dynamics would be interesting. On the scale of a single turn, you could only come to agreement if the players found a move that they each thought improved their position. However, it would also be possible to negotiate for concessions over time — “I’ll give ground here, but you need to reciprocate on my turn”. There could also be situations where one player has an incentive to run out the clock because she feels that the other player can less afford to lose a piece.
I think the endgame would be a problem; as the tactical situation became simpler, it would be harder to find perceived win-wins, and the downside of not honoring long-term agreements is reduced. No one would ever agree to allow an opponent to move out of check. (I suppose you could have a rule that moving out of check is always permissible, even without an agreement.)
Back in 1994, I went to the Origins game convention, which was in San Jose that year. One of the things I did was to play a game called the National Security Decision Making game, which was a simulation run by a couple of guys who had taught at the Naval War College. It was intended to model, in abstract form, most of the major players in international politics and their important interactions. I was all set to mix it up international relations style. However, upon drawing my role, I got to be a region of the United States.
This was 13 years ago, so I don’t remember the game’s details terribly well. I do, however, remember the basic dynamics of the US’s domestic politics in the game, because that was what I mostly had to deal with. There were, I believe, five regions of the US — New England and the Mid-Atlantic, the South, the Midwest, the Plains States, and the West Coast. I was New England. The main objective of the regions was to secure national resources for themselves, in the form of a share of the national budget, which was refigured regularly. A region could accomplish this by lobbying the President, who determined the budget.
There were also three politicians, whose base condition was to be a Senator, but one of whom would be elected President by the regions every so often. I don’t remember the politicians’ names, but let’s call them Senator Gravitas, Senator Unctuous, and Senator Nonentity.
At the beginning of the game, we had a choice to make, and the senators made their pitches. Senator Gravitas seemed intelligent, trustworthy, and possessed of good plans for the nation. Senator Unctuous, meanwhile, mostly seemed ambitious. He said the right things, but his eyes were a little too clearly on the prize, and he just seemed a little sleazy. Senator Nonentity I don’t remember at all; I merely assume he must have existed because I’m pretty sure there were three senators, and we shall not speak of him again. Instead, let us assume he retreated to the ranks of those elder statesmen who are always discussed as potential presidential candidates, and whose chances always seem quite good except for their inability to excite either donors or voters. Needless to say, President Gravitas was elected, and it was morning in America.
The Gravitas administration was probably quite successful; he threw himself into foreign affairs with a will, and things seemed to be mostly going his way. I, however, was not paying that much attention, because I wasn’t allowed into some of the most important stuff, and I was mostly concerned with the fact that my share of the federal budget was not what it could be. I managed to wheedle some concessions out of the President, but the other regions were pushing hard too, and he had a lot to do.
Shortly before the election rolled around, Senator Unctuous asked if he could have a word with me, the Midwest, and the West Coast. “I have a proposition,” he said. “If you three vote for me, I will give you the entire federal budget.” We were startled. We were a little scandalized. We could do the math. Thus began the Unctuous Administration.
Sen. Gravitas was really pissed off. Here he’d been doing a good job, getting things done, treating everyone fairly, and we had straight up stabbed him in the back. I felt a little bad about it, but I was getting a much bigger slice of the pie, and pie is a wonderful cure for guilt. The South and the Plains States were pretty ticked off too, but there wasn’t a whole lot they could do about it. Unctuous wasn’t about to throw them a bone, because if he annoyed one of the regions in his coalition enough to lose it, he was going down for good.
I don’t remember how the game went from there; it had been running a long time, it was late, and I think I went to bed before we got through another term. Still, I think about that experience a lot when I think about national politics.
I was talking with a couple of coworkers about their experiences moving to California from various other places, and how it differs from my experience of the area as a native Californian.
“I like it here,” one said (we’ll call her A), “but Californians drive me nuts with this whole ‘be nice to your face, but tear you down behind your back’ thing.”
“That’s really true,” B agreed. “Back East, if someone has a problem with you, at least you know it. Here, they just pretend that everything is fine. It’s really fake.”
“You know what?” I said. “Fuck you guys.”
Originally published on LiveJournal
corner of Bancroft and Bowditch
Berkeley, CA
Not far from Boalt is a Vietnamese place that I’m told is an outpost of a famed Oakland
eatery to which I have never been. I eat there often when I don’t want to walk far and don’t want a sandwich. They have a steam table three-item combo ($5.08 plus tax, which comes out to $5.50), which is my subject today.
Today I opted for the curry chicken, the beef with asparagus, and the sauteed vegetables; the combo also comes with a scoop of steamed rice. I often get the curry chicken; they make a good yellow curry (if mild), with big chunks of potato and carrot and chicken thigh. The beef with asparagus is new. I got it because I read in the paper today that asparagus season is upon us. It was good, with surprisingly tasty beef for a steam table, but the lady behind the counter stiffed me a bit on the portion. She may have been concerned about running out; it seemed like everyone was ordering it. The sauteed vegetables were fine, but unexciting. They came with tofu chunks, and were good with some leftover rice and curry sauce.
Originally published on Tournedos
Westfield Food Concourse
off Powell St. BART Station, San Francisco
So I found myself in the Powell St. BART at 10.30 am, with no particular place to be, melancholy in my heart, and an inexplicable hunger in my gut. There is a traditional prescription for moments like these, and it is called brunch. However, I didn’t know any good places in the area other than the perplexingly classy Denny’s on Mission, and I didn’t really want to take the time for a proper brunch, so I decided to just hit the food court in the Westfield, grab some upscale snacks, and head on my way.
However, the food court — excuse me, concourse — in the Westfield is not really that great a place for a snack, unless you want a pretzel, which is fine but not really what I was in the mood for. So I thought I would try the Bristol Farms, which I find sort of charming because it’s sort of like Whole Foods without any pretensions of being anything other than a place whether rich people get groceries.
Well, it turns out that they have a breakfast bar, which they label “American Comfort Food”. I loaded up my salad bar takeout tray with scrambled eggs, ham, hash browns, oatmeal, and a biscuit, and I went to find a table. (Incidentally, the Westfield is very clever by using tiny little tables that have room for your food but nothing else. It probably discourages cafe-style squatters.)
I didn’t have particularly high hopes, because, well, steam table food. I was, however, pleasantly surprised. The ham was a touch on the dry side, but not to the point of leatheriness; more of a “picking leftovers off the Christmas ham” kind of dryness. It was really good, too. I’d guess honey-cured. The hash browns were well-seasoned, and neither crunchy nor mushy. The biscuit was fresh and tasty, if a touch salty. And the eggs shocked me; they looked like they’d be dry and rubbery like steam table eggs tend to be, but they were surprisingly…like scrambled eggs ought to be. Moist but not runny, eggy but not overpowering. They could have used a touch of salt, maybe. The oatmeal was the main disappointment; it was bland and soupy. I didn’t finish.
My biggest problem with the breakfast bar is the price tag – $8.95 per pound. The food is good, but it’s not a bargain. If I were go again, I’d probably go easier on the hash browns and eggs, skip the oatmeal entirely, and snag some fruit from the salad bar.
Originally published on Tournedos
In trademark law, some marks are “inherently distinctive”, meaning that they clearly identify a particular producer’s goods from day one — Kodak film being a classic example. Other marks must acquire distinctiveness through being associated with a particular producer’s goods over time; if I started selling Delicious brand cookies, I couldn’t stop other people from calling their cookies Delicious unless consumers associate the word “Delicious” with my cookies in particular.
Anyway, I’m reading a case wherein Scalia observes that colors can never be inherently distinctive. And I thought to myself, “well, the Colour Out of Space, maybe”. But really, in that case consumers need more protection than trademark law affords them.
Originally published on LiveJournal
2519 Durant Ave
Berkeley, CA
I’ve wanted to try this place for a while, but it’s always been packed to bursting with undergraduates, and my lunch hour is too short to spend standing in line. This week, however, the undergrads are not back from break yet, and Telegraph belongs to the natives and the graduate students (and panhandlers who have a vague “why did I even show up to work today?” air about them). So I went to Gypsy’s.
I’ve long wanted a pasta equivalent of the burrito joint — a place that dishes out decent-quality pasta fast at a low price. I suspect Gypsy’s may be as close as I’ll get (which may explain the aforementioned “packed with undergrads” quality).
I ordered the Victor’s Spaghetti ($5.99), which the menu describes as basically spaghetti with a beef-and-red-pepper sauce. They move fast; my food was ready in maybe five minutes. It turns out the menu is misleading. I expected an ordinary meat sauce with pieces of red pepper in it, but what I got was a tomato sauce with strips of steak and red pepper — a different and far more delicious proposition. The tomato sauce itself was maybe a little canned-tasting, but the combination of meat and peppers and sauce is really tasty. The pasta was good too. I prefer my spaghetti a bit more al dente, but I expect that they must reheat their pasta to keep up with the pace of orders, and it’s pretty damn good considering that. The meal also came with a piece of toasted Italian bread with a clove of roasted garlic on it, which is a nice touch, and far better than the garlic bread you often get with inexpensive Italian food.
3211 Mission Street
San Francisco
Taqueria Can-Cun is basically across the street from my new apartment; as a result, it has become my default quick restaurant. If I don’t want to cook, I can always nip across the street for a burrito. My usual choice is a regular burrito with grilled chicken ($3.80) on a wheat tortilla (80 cents extra). I think the wheat tortilla is worth it, both because I like to eat whole wheat when I can and because Can-Cun grills their tortillas, which renders a white tortilla a bit dry and flaky for my tastes. The wheat tortilla retains more chew through the grilling process. As I’ve mentioned before, I like a relatively dry burrito, and Can-Cun’s are very much to my taste. The burrito is hefty, and holds together well through the last bite. The meat is spicy and tasty — just on the edge of being a bit too rich for me. The meal comes with a big handful of pretty tasty chips, and two salsas. One is a nice pico de gallo-type salsa which I eat with the chips; the other is a hot green salsa which I leave be.
I’ve also had the plain quesadilla ($2.50), which is good but unremarkable. I should try some more of the meats. Plus, they have the dread alambres.
Originally published on Tournedos
2562 Bancroft Ave.
Berkeley, CA
Julie’s is one of the Berkeley restaurants that boggles me a little bit, because I’ve never been even though I lived in the area for many years. I think it’s because the restaurant is set back from the street, past an outdoor seating area, and it’s not especially inviting. However, this week I went in to give it a try.
Julie’s serves breakfast, sandwiches (hot and cold), and stir-fry. It strikes me as an odd assortment, but I’ve seen a bunch of burgers-and-stir-fry places lately, so perhaps it’s a trend. I had the chicken broccoli stir-fry ($6.95), a soda ($1.00), and a cookie ($1.00). The stir-fry was pretty good, though I would have called it a chicken mushroom stir-fry; there were a whole bunch of mushrooms, and only a few sprigs of broccoli. The chicken was tasty, and the seasoning was fine, though maybe a little one-dimensionally soy-based. The cookies are apparently low-fat. I can’t recommend them; my cookie was bland and boring. Sometimes a low-fat dessert is less worth the calories than a full-fat one would be.
Originally published on Tournedos