Grand Old Party of Sedition

 First, as a side note, I really wanted to post this a few days back when the impeachment finally went through.  Unfortunately, we had a bit of a wind storm run through my area, and I just got power back at my place last night, so... better late than never, I guess.

That sentiment kind of encapsulates the sum total of my positive feelings about the past week in Washington D.C.  If everyone there was on the same page about the seriousness of a mob attacking the Capitol while the House and Senate were there performing their duties as required by law and the Constitution, you might have seen that four-page article of impeachment created and voted on the day after the event, passed over to the Senate on Friday, a trial scheduled for Monday, and President Trump removed from office that evening.  But that's not what happened, is it?  Granted, the legislative branch isn't noted for its speed, and the Speaker of the House was a bit distracted early on with contacting military leaders to make sure no random nuclear launches or war-starting would happen while they worked things out, but still.  Basically, the House waited through the weekend, hoping Vice-President Pence would trigger the 25th amendment of his own accord (which everyone should have gotten a pretty big Not Happening signal when cabinet members that would have been involved in that process started resigning the night of the event), then wasted time putting together an advisory vote calling on Pence to do what we would have done earlier if he was so inclined, then finally managed to get the impeachment article voted on a week after the insurrection, in part because some Republican members were doing what they could to stall the article coming up for a vote.  Not that it would have mattered a lot if they did manage to get that step done earlier, because the Republican Majority Leader of the Senate had put the Senate in recess, so, short of no Republicans objecting, the Senate couldn't come back to deal with the results of the impeachment vote in the House until the 19th of January at the earliest.

Now, all of that might be considered "normal" maneuvering under ordinary conditions, but we're talking about a direct assault on the Constitution here, something everyone at that level of government should be taking very seriously.  Yet, the results of the vote on the impeachment article give the lie to that idea.  Exactly 10 Republicans found it within themselves to both recognize the gravity of the situation and uphold their oaths, while nearly 200 voted against impeachment (or, just over 200 if you include the "didn't even vote" group of Republicans).  The reasons for those Republicans voting against impeachment are sure to be varied, but broadly would fall into three categories.  Either they literally fear what their constituents would do to them if they voted to impeach (since I gather some of those that did vote to impeach went so far as to acquire body armor in response to death threats); or they acknowledge that President Trump did something bad, but not so bad that he needs removed from office (like the ones calling instead for censure, the only consequence of which is shame, which it's safe to say at this point that President Trump doesn't feel); or they have no problem with what President Trump attempted, and possibly even actively supported that attempt.  None of those answers suffice for anybody that's supposed to be guiding and protecting this country, as far as I'm concerned.

So, at the end of the day, the Republican party has been marked with an indelible stain.  They may not all be seditionists, but, based on their votes in the House, they look to be about 95% OK with sedition.  Maybe there will be some sort of grand "house cleaning" in the weeks to come that will change my mind, but, barring that... well, I don't care what anyone personally believes, as long as they're working from a basis of facts and reality.  But, if you proclaim yourself to be a Republican at this point, I can only assume you're rooting for the overthrow of the government, and I want nothing to do with that.

If you've been paying attention, yesterday shouldn't have been a surprise

 So, yeah, for anybody stumbling across this post in months or years to come, yesterday is when a mob, gathered and incited by President Trump and his associates, descended on the Capitol, forced their way in, and attempted to stop the count of votes that would result in Joe Biden becoming the new President in a couple of weeks.  While there are plenty of surrounding issues to be picked over (for example, the lack of police presence that allowed this to take place, and the disparate treatment of the protesters in this group by police compared to other protests across the nation), it's essential that we don't lose sight of that central fact.

No more whataboutisms, no more "both sides are bad".  We have a small group, led by our current President, that has brainwashed a portion of our populace to the point where nothing, not the will of the people as reflected in nationwide voting, not the rule of law as handed down by the judges who reviewed the many attempts to discredit or invalidate that vote and found them wanting, not even basic facts placed in front of them for their own review, nothing but the words of the man at the top of the heap seems to matter.  Yesterday, President Trump and crew unleashed that mob on his co-equal branch of government because he wasn't getting his way.  Argue if you want over whether what the mob did yesterday counts as sedition, but what President Trump and his cronies did sure looks to meet the dictionary definition of it.

On the plus side, this event seems to have made some people rethink their priorities a bit.  There have been some lawmakers who were happy to ride on the President's coat-tails up to now that seem to have decided that maybe the destination isn't worth the ride, and there have been some White House staffers who have decided to resign.  To my mind, they're still tainted goods, and I honestly can't think of anything they would be able to do to regain my trust in them individually or any party they belong to, but at least they finally saw the end-game and, given the choice, stayed on the side of the Constitution.

President Trump and his closest remaining allies, on the other hand, have demonstrated beyond the shadow of a doubt that they are enemies of the Constitution.  Mind you, I'm not advocating violence against them or anything like that, but anybody who's taken an oath to support, uphold, and defend the Constitution against all enemies, foreign or domestic, should hold that oath in the front of their mind for any further dealings with those individuals.

What does need to happen, however, is the removal, by Constitutional means, of President Trump in particular from office, ASAP.  Sure, it's less than two weeks until he's supposed to be gone anyways, but two weeks is plenty of time for mischief on a variety of scales, from pardons for the insurrectionist mob to nuclear launches, if what he's been feeding his faithful is a true reflection of his state of mind.  Whether it's the rumored discussions of implementing the 25th amendment from the executive branch or another go at impeachment by the legislative branch, I can honestly say there is no more pressing issue that needs attended to by those bodies, and I'm including the ongoing pandemic in that list.  Here's hoping I can come back to update this post with the good news shortly.

CentOS, better than "not my circus, not my monkeys"

 Unemployment isn't all fun and games, even in these plague-ridden times, and it's all too easy to look on the past with the proverbial rose-colored glasses.  But every so often, something crops up that lets you say "well, at least I'm not in the middle of that shitstorm."  Better still, sometimes that shitstorm steers far enough clear that you don't have to worry about deciding whether concern or schadenfreude about your previous co-workers should hold the day.  Today is such a day for me, with the news hitting about Red Hat making their move on CentOS Linux, particularly CentOS 8.

For those not in the know, Red Hat produces versions of Linux, and has for decades, including versions intended for long-term stability, which businesses generally prefer.  Naturally, Red Hat wants to make money for their trouble, and their chosen method has been a variety of licensing schemes.  My company used Red Hat for a number of years, on their least-expensive license scheme, but, as they asked for more money for fewer support options, we decided to look for other options.  Due to the licensing structure of the various bits of Linux, it's generally possible to take the bits of one version that you like, and re-use them in another version, so long as you're not taking anything the original version coded for themselves... and that's exactly what the people at CentOS did, starting in 2004, taking the enterprise version of Red Hat's product, stripping everything Red Hat branded or coded from it, and releasing the result as its own product, the trade-off being community-based support vs. not having to pay for a license.  I don't recall exactly when, but the trade-off made sense to my company at some point, and we switched our Linux-based servers to CentOS.

Naturally, this isn't the sort of thing the folks at Red Hat wanted to allow, but there wasn't much they could do about it.  That said, the CentOS folks had their own issues, since you don't have a lot of room for doing things like hiring people to work on your code when you're giving away the final product.  Between one thing and another, Red Hat finally offered to "partner" with the CentOS folks in 2014, in what looked like a win-win for all involved, for all there were CentOS users who worried that this was a prelude to a Microsoft-style "embrace, extend, extinguish" play.  However, as the years went on, this seemed like less and less of a concern, as everybody seemed to play nice with one another.

What changed to shift that balance, I couldn't say with certainty... it wouldn't terribly surprise me if it was somehow connected to IBM buying Red Hat last year, but that's pure speculation on my part.  However, CentOS is now shifting focus to become more of a "development branch" for Red Hat's enterprise products, which is fine as far as that goes.  However, they also decided to significantly hasten the end-of-life of their most current product, from 2029 to the end of 2021, which is a rude awakening for any IT department using CentOS Linux on any sort of scale.

For me, this is very definitely a "dodged a bullet" sort of thing.  If I were still with my 2019 employer, I would doubtless be scrabbling about, looking for long-term alternatives for the various systems I still had on CentOS, and working out what modifications I would have to make to those systems in support of that change.  If I were just unemployed from that company, I would feel the need to at least give them a heads-up, and likely a "the sooner you bring me back on, the better for all of us" sort of message.  However, that company ceased operations at the end of 2019, and the startup with the refugees from that company didn't get an opportunity to build anything significant before I was let go, so it's sort of like watching the tsunami wash over an island that all the residents have safely departed from, for me.  Still, there's plenty of other shops out there that this is going to be an issue for, so it's definitely noteworthy... if only in a "don't forget these organizations can't be counted on to keep a promise" way, if and when the day comes where I'm involved in deciding on systems and services my company will use again.

A nice little surprise: Carto

I've got no shortage of computer/video games to keep myself occupied with, but I also have an XBox Game Pass subscription.  So, when I see a new game pop up there that looks even mildly interesting, at the price of "you've already paid for it", I'll gladly download it and take a closer look.  This week, that led me to get Carto, an odd little adventure-puzzle game.  The story follows the trope of a disaster separating the main character from their family, but with a touch of the magician's apprentice thrown in, with the result of your character washing up on the shore of an island, far from home and family, but with a power to help you make your return trip.

The power you get, in this case, is a map of the local area, broken up into tiles you can shift and rotate, which actually alters the layout of the local area in the process.  You still have to match terrain types on the edges of tiles, much like a game of Carcassonne, but that's not much of a challenge, especially early on.  From that basic beginning, you set out to explore the world, gathering new tiles along the way by various means, while you meet the inhabitants of the various different regions in pursuit of your goals.

Carto is sort of like one of the old point-and-click adventure games, but replacing the obtuse puzzles and pixel-hunting with mostly tile puzzles of various sorts, and I rather liked that.  It's also not terribly long, as I was able to play most of the way through in one sitting over the course of an afternoon and early evening... but only most of the way through.  The last level (if the narrative hints aren't totally misleading at least) takes you to the "edge of the world", which is an arctic/antarctic setting that ramps up the difficulty in a couple of different ways.  First, they replace the simplicity of manipulating tiles with manipulating fixed 4-tile chunks and trying to fit those together in various valid combinations - annoying, but that much I was willing to take on.  Then, part way through, they added a "sliding on the ice" mechanic that requires alignment of "tracks" on the various ice field tiles, and that was the bit that tipped the scales from enjoyable to bothersome for me, so I stopped there.

So, yeah, fair odds I'll never officially finish this game, but it's not like I don't know what the ending is likely to be (it's not a deep story, by any means).  The rest of the game kept me entertained for a number of hours, enough so that I'd recommend it to almost anyone to check out, at the right price.

An innovation more games should embrace

 While there haven't been a lot of Harry Potter-esque "going to wizarding school" games, there have been a few, widely varying in quality.  So, when Ikenfell first crossed my path, with strategy RPG trappings, I was mildly interested, but the pseudo-8-bit visuals turned me off a bit (turns out, I'm old enough that old Nintendo graphics aren't part of my childhood, so I don't get the nostalgia kick from them that many do), so I decided to give it a pass.

Well, it showed up on XBox Game Pass yesterday, and, at the price of "you've already paid for it," I figured it wouldn't hurt to give it a go.  I've only played a little ways into it so far, but, at the moment, I would probably just call it "inoffensive".  There have only been a couple of surprises, one of which is a timed-input fighting system that reminds me of Paper Mario, but I'm not entirely sold on whether it's a good thing or not this early on.

However, that's not the innovation I mentioned in the title.  That role belongs to the cats in the game.  Being a magic school, it's got cats all over, apparently... and the first one I met, if you "use" it, lets you pet it (important in its own right, in the minds of some), restores your health, and acts as a save point.  Yes, it's an unimaginably small touch, but fraught with implications, the first being safety... after all, if the cat's not freaking out and letting you pet it, you can be pretty sure that nothing nasty is in the vicinity to cause you grief.  Second is personality, since I've seen many, many games with bulky, mystical save points whose whole purpose is to get across that they're a feature of the environment, not in any way portable - using a cat makes similar sense, as anybody who has tried to make a cat go somewhere it doesn't want to go can attest to.  Third... well, I have no proof that this is implemented in this game, early as I am in it, but using creatures with agency for save points brings up all sorts of opportunities for mischief, whether that's just cats moving to different locations on a whim, or deciding they don't want to be petted just then, or deciding as a group to go hide, or be captured, or be impersonated by something nasty, or, or, or...

So, yeah, I'm not sold on the game as a whole just yet.  On the other hand, this one touch has piqued my interest enough to say I'll come back for another look.  Maybe there's more surprises waiting just a bit further into the game.  In the meantime, all you other developers, more useful pettable cats, please.

Another game by the wayside

 It was still early June when I started in on Divinity: Original Sin.  I finally gave up on it a day or two ago, mainly to make room for trying out the latest iteration of No Man's Sky (among other things, there's giant jumping planetary worms now).  However, I hadn't even left the first area of the game in all that time.  I got a couple of decent play sessions in, but I always struggled to get myself to get back in for the next session, so it's high time that struggle stopped.

Honestly, I'm hard-pressed to say why the game didn't click for me.  I liked the turn-based combat well enough, excepting for the extreme variation involved when doing something like tossing grenades around.  Could be the bit I mentioned when starting about the game being geared towards a couch co-op experience.  Another likely component would be the whole starting setup, where you're supposed to be concerning yourself with the murder of a politician while undead hordes press the city from the land and orc raiders press from the sea... it just has a bit of "aren't there more pressing things I should be handling right now" attached to it.

That said, since I'm leaving this game behind, I did go ahead and scrounge up a video of the main story beats.  It's a bit more twisty than the initial setup would leave you to believe, which is a good thing, but I'm just as glad to have gotten the summary instead of slogging through the game myself.  I'm not saying you wouldn't enjoy giving the game a go yourself, for the right price at least... but I've gotten what I can from it, and I'm ready to move on.

Funny, how the brain works.

 It's like that old Mel Brooks quote, the one about how "Tragedy is when I cut my finger.  Comedy is when you fall into an open sewer and die."  Little setbacks can seem magnified way out of proportion when you're on the receiving end.

What brings up this line of thought?  Well, I don't think I ever posted about this topic in this place, but the fact is that I was laid off from my job at the beginning of this whole COVID-19 pandemic.  Originally, it was supposed to just be a layoff until June, which then became July, which then became "maybe you should look elsewhere for work."  Still, I was better off than many in my position, having set aside a fair-sized rainy day fund for emergencies.  That, coupled with the various relief packages offered by state and federal governments, says I'm not at any risk for significant financial impacts (like, say, dipping into retirement savings) until after next year, barring anything further unexpected in the meantime.  In fact, thanks to the "long goodbye" from my prior company, I have actually viewed this whole situation as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity... no need to rush into a new job (because why expose yourself to the dread disease any more than you have to), and no ties binding me to my previous employer, I could be very selective in where I applied to work.  Of course, the unstated assumption here is that my work history is so outstanding that, given the opportunity, any employer would be thrilled to have me come on board to work for them.

Well, the proof to that pudding just came through last night.  I applied for a position with my state's small business development center back in July, had a Zoom interview in August, and got informed that the position had been filled last night.  Intellectually, it made sense... given the time spans involved, there were likely a great many applicants, any of which could have had a better background or interviewed better or whatever, so not getting chosen is a likely outcome.  Emotionally, though, it stung; here I offered them the knowledge and skills acquired over decades, and was rejected outright.  So, I started out the night on a down note, then had another little down-stroke when the weekly game I regularly participate in was canceled because the guy running it had too much work to do... and likely sustained that down-stroke with the glass of sake I had poured for myself for that game.  Even though I occupied myself with other things, the sense of "I've never failed like this on a job search" grew and grew.

That is, until I finally recalled an episode from a job search nearly two decades back.  In that case, I had applied for a job with a local school district, then was called in for an interview... only to find out at the interview site that it was going to be a group interview (as in, multiple applicants in the same interview).  The interview started with a question about something I knew well, but referenced by a name I never used or remembered, and I was given first crack at answering... and failing that, wasn't called on for the rest of the interview.  Without question, that was a worse "fail" than just not getting selected on this one job application... and with that remembrance, while I still didn't feel great about failing, I felt (and continue to feel) better than I had been.

The funny thing is, there was a literal span of hours where, had I been asked, I likely would have said that I had never been rejected on a job application before.  It's almost like some part of my brain decided, long ago, that "we'll just pretend that never happened", up until it decided to dredge up that tidbit as a useful scaling mechanism to help break a depressive cycle.  I can't help but wonder, if someone had mentioned that previous failing before then, whether I would have recalled it happening or not.  Oh well, mysteries of the brain and all that.