A Blog by Richard Kiss

I used to work next door to a Trader Joe’s grocery store, and although not as famous as Costco’s, they have a pretty great free sample table. For months, every day around 2 or 3 in the afternoon, I would head over (often with coworkers in tow) to see what the sampler table whiz kids were up to.

The people who worked the sample table always worked the sample table, so it didn’t long before they began to recognize us. You might think that they would be annoyed by the same freeloaders grabbing snacks daily, never buying anything. I thought so. But no. They were always happy to see us, and we even sort of became friends. We kept each other update with gossip and mundane details of each others’ lives like you do with people you see every day. The Trader Joe’s snack run became one of the best parts of the day. Make sense, I guess… it’s not like they were shareholders.

I went grocery shopping at Trader Joe’s today (a different location). It brought back memories. I even recognized Emily, a gal who used to work at my old store. Even though it had a different layout than the one I worked by, when I saw the snack table, nostalgia came rushing back, so I walked up and grabbed a sample of Southwestern salad. It was in a tiny paper cup, like the kind you’d get at the dentist with that gritty tooth polish.

I didn’t know the woman minding the booth. She was painstakingly cutting up lettuce with scissors, which at first I thought rather odd. This seemed to make preparing the prepackaged salad much less convenient. Then I realized that she was doing it just so the large leafs would fit nicely into the into the tiny sample-size cups.

The pleasure of free food brought me back to the days of TJs camaraderie. I pushed my luck. “Does the salad come with the scissors?” I said jokingly. I wanted her to laugh, to chat, to bond.

You know how sometimes people have a talent for just sucking all the funny out of the room? This women had it in spades. She looks up at me and says “These are kitchen scissors.”

That barely had anything to do with my comment. But the follow up was the killer.

“For cutting.”

I considered several possible rejoinders or explanations of the intent of my original comment, but couldn’t see it going anywhere. So I finished my salad and left without another word.

I don’t know what she could have thought I said, but she must have thought me quite the moron to feel the need to explain to me that “scissors are for cutting”. It was an amazingly paralyzing response. Genius.

I guess they’re right: you can’t go home again. Or, in this case, to the grocery store.

I’ve been trying very hard to produce tangible output on a regular basis for my blog. But it’s been challenging. I worry about being interesting, but only a bit, because the “interesting” angle is so much outweighed by my innate need to be original.

Ah, the curse of originality, or as comedians like to say, “not hack”. I strive to be a brilliant computer hacker while I strive to avoid being a comedy hack. Hack computers, not comedy.

Upon reflection, this desire – this need – to be original has been a constant driver in my life. I’ve always felt different, and always felt the need to be think about things differently. When everyone else zigs, I zag. I don’t know why. It’s in my nature. I can’t help it any more than the scorpion can help but sting the frog.

My blog and my comedy suffers because I so quickly and naturally filter out ideas that seem obvious and unoriginal automatically. They’re considered, but only considered as ideas that have been seen and noted, and never considered to be used on stage or in public. A lot of times, I’ll even dismiss as unoriginal ideas that I’ve come up with myself, but in the past, so they are unoriginal in that “I’ve thought of them before”.

I suppose this blog post is personal enough that it’s guaranteed to be original. Even if someone else has written these exact ideas, or even somehow these exact words, I’m still original because they (probably) weren’t writing about me. Maybe that’s the answer: write about myself.

SEEN IT

Huh. I guess that’s been done. To death.

I went to the San Francisco Django Meetup last week and met some smart, nice people.

There was some talk about host to deploying Django. There were many good things said about Slicehost. Of course, to my mind, the cheapest and easiest way to deploy is Google App Engine. I say let the good employees at Google deal with the hard work of keeping these thousands of machine online and responsive. If your GAE site goes down at 4 AM, there’s no point in waking up to take a look at what’s going on, because you can’t even log in to those Google machines, much less have root access, so you may as well… keep sleeping. Which is what I prefer to do at 4 AM.

Anyway, I’ve used Dreamhost for years to host both my blog and my personal web site, which is actually a very simple Django app. It’s met my needs perfectly; it’s a very low traffic web site, and at less than $10 a month (including ssh access!) incredibly cheap.

You don’t get root like you do on slicehost.com or other VPS, but I consider that a feature, not a bug. Do I really want to be the one responsible for keeping system software safe from the hacker attack du jour?

If you feel like sending some kickbacks my way, enter my email address as your referrer (him at richardkiss.com) or sign up here.

I expect to release my Django Dreamhost configuration as a github project Real Soon Now™.

From a MySpace bulletin, circa 2007. The author of the questions is unknown but all answers are by me.

1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?
“WHERE DID I PUT MY LEFT EYE?” SOUND WEIRD BUT TO BE FAIR I WAS TOTALLY HIGH

2. How much cash do you have on you?
ALL OF IT

3. What’s a word that rhymes with “DOOR?”
“NATURES”

4. Favorite planet?
I WOULD SAY URANUS BUT IT’S TOO FILTHY SO I WILL GO WITH OMICRON 7 IN THE ANDROMEDA GALAXY. EVEN THOUGH IT’S GASEOUS, IT ROCKS!!!

5. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone?
CREDITORS

6. What is your favorite ring on your phone?
RING AROUND THE COLLAR HA HA HA I KILL ME. THINK OUTSIDE THE BOX PEOPLES!

7. What shirt are you wearing?
WHAT IS THIS, PHONE SEX?

8. Do you “label” yourself?
YES I DO. CONSTANTLY. LOOK I’M DOING IT NOW

9. Name the brand of your shoes you’re currently wearing?
I WILL NAME IT JEREMY AND THANK YOU FOR ASKING! YOU ARE A TRUE FRIEND

10. Bright or Dark Room?
IT DEPENDS ON IF I AM DEVELOPING PHOTOS

11. What do you think about the person who took this survey before you?
I THINK ABOUT 145 POUNDS

13. What were you doing at midnight last night?
IT WAS NOT MIDNIGHT, IT WAS ABOUT 11:30 AND IT WAS NOTHING.

14. What did your last text message you received on your cell say?
SENDER UNKNOWN, REDO FROM START

15. Where is your nearest 7-11?
THE CORNER OF 7TH STREET AND 11TH AVENUE. I KNOW. WHO WOULDDA GUESS?!

16. What’s a word that you say a lot?
“I” BECAUSE I AM VERY IMPORTANT TO I. GET IT?

17.Who told you he/she loved you last?
HITLER LOVED ME LAST AND HE WAS VERY CLEAR ABOUT IT

18. Last furry thing you touched?
HA HA THIS ONE IS TOO PERSONAL TO ANSWER BUT I WILL GIVE YOU A HINT… IT HAD A PIT BUT WAS NOT A PEACH!!!!!

19. How many drugs have you done in the last three days?
JUST ONE WHEN YESTERDAY I INVENTED A MEDICATION TO LOWER BAD CHOLESTERAL BUT THE DAMN PATENT OFFICE REFUSED MY PATENT!!!! BASTARDS LOL

20. How many rolls of film do you need developed?
I WILL ANSWER THIS FOR EVERYONE SIMULTANEOUSLY: N WHERE N IS A NON-NEGATIVE INTEGER

21. Favorite age you have been so far?
ICE AGE WAS MY FAVOURITE BECAUSE THAT LITTLE SQUIRREL SO CUTE

22. Your worst enemy?
JEWS

23. What is your current desktop picture?
IT IS A PHOTO MY PREVIOUS DESKTOP. I KNOW, BLOWS THE MIND, EH?

24. What was the last thing you said to someone?
“IT IS A PHOTO MY PREVIOUS DESKTOP. I KNOW, BLOWS THE MIND, EH?”

25. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to fly what would it be?
I WOULD CHOOSE DOOR #3 WITH THE GOAT IN IT AND THEN SLAUGHTER IT TO GAIN ITS COURAGE

26. Do you like someone?
YES BUT NOT A PEACH!!!! *WINK*

27. The last song you listened to?
MY OUTGOING VOICE MAIL MESSAGE WHICH IS SUPER CATCHY. CALL ME AND GET YOUR GROOVE BACK

Here’s the radio show I did on Sunday. It’s an hour long.

It starts with a three minute audio clip of a funny guy who isn’t me, so don’t be confused by that part.

"What's So Funny" radio show, Dec. 14, 2008

I’m going to be the guest on Guy MacPherson’s radio show “What’s So Funny?” on Sunday, December 14th, 11 PM to midnight. Listen on CFRO 102.7 FM in Vancouver, or online here. You can call in while the show’s airing to talk to us at 604-684-7561.

“If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.”

This tired old adage sounds accusing and incriminating, like you’re supposed to feel guilty for not working towards a solution, a better world. It’s a bold, shaming aphorism.

Here’s my version.

“If you’re not part of the problem, you’re part of the solution!”

Optimism. Relief. Exoneration.

Mine sounds so much more optimistic than the original. Yet, they are exactly logically equivalent.

Both of them state that “you” are “part of the solution” or “part of the problem” (and maybe both). There are two sets: “problem”, “solution” and you are a member of at least one.

Don’t believe me? Here’s a rough guide to a formal proof.

Let S = “you are part of the solution” and P = “you are part of the problem”.

The first statement translates to “~S => P”.

The second statement translates to “~P => S”.

We will show that one implies the other. First, we will prove that (~S => P) => (~P => S).

1. ~S => P  (assumption)
2. ~P (assumption)
3. ~S (assumption)
4. P (1&3, implication, depends on 1,3)
5. P & ~P (2&4, depends on 1,2,3)
6. ~~S (RAA, 5&3, depends on 1,2)
7. S (double negation, depends on 1,2)
8. ~P=>S (2&7, implication, depends on 1)
9. (~S=>P)=>(~P=>S) (1&8, implication, no dependencies)

The proof that (~P=>S)=>(~S=>P) is virtually identical (just swap the roles of P and S).

I record all my comedy sets obsessively. I’ve done over 340 sets and I’ve recorded all but a handful. A few days ago, I listened to my first set on a whim. It was, shall we say, “interesting”. I definitely sounded like one of those new comics I’ve heard so many of since then. But once in a while, a flash of brilliance peeked through which made me happy (although you might have had to have been me to know what they were, since most people don’t such direct insight into my brain).

I decided to come up to Vancouver for a while and because I have more time than income these days, I drove. It’s about a thousand miles in fifteen hours. Because I hate wasted time and doing just one thing at a time, I was trying to figure out what else I could do while I drive.

I think you see where I’m going with this. I decided I would take advantage of my obsessive recording of my sets and listen to them as I drove.

Any comic will tell you that listening to yourself is torture. It turns out though that after a few sets, you become numb, and it become a lot easier. All in all, I listened to show 17 (my first few shows were WAV files and iPod wouldn’t play them) to around show 102 in about fourteen hours. I heard a few jokes and tags I’d forgotten about and thought of a few new twists. I brought my voice recorder with me and made about 30 or 40 notes to self. And it actually helped the time go faster by keeping my brain occupied.

I reviewed my first year of comedy (I started in November 2004, although I suppose technically I did maybe three or four shows at UCLA in the early 90s that I am quite certain were terrible). A lot of these shows were simply awful. My set-ups were often too long. I was incoherent and rambly. There were premises with no punch lines. My diction was poor. My speech was peppered with useless “Ums” and way too many “So…” transitions.

My set-ups were filled with lies. For example, in my very first show, I had a set-up that talked about something that happened when I was married. But I’ve never been married, so when I listened, I just sounded like a lying idiot. I guess I couldn’t figure out any other way to set it up, but I mean, come on, that’s just lazy.

I was surprised how many jokes I still use were in these early eras, although many have been improved beyond recognition after going through quite a few iterations.

I also talked quite frankly about the shoulder surgery I went through in August of 2005, and it was really interesting to hear what I had to say both before and after the surgery. It was almost like I was doing it more for me than for anyone else.

Early on, I’d leave my voice recorder on a table when I went up, and I often ended up in the background. Once in a while someone sitting near my recorder would make a comment about a joke or something that I’d strain to evaluate. Or other comics would see the recorder and leave a cute message for me. I don’t know if they realized I wouldn’t hear it until 2008.

I would really strongly recommend recording all your shows. Bring the recorder up to stage with you, and just put it on the stool with any notes you might have. It might seem weird, but if you don’t make a big deal out of it, no one cares. You don’t have to listen to it, but if record all your shows, you at least have the option.

Near the end of my trip, I fast forwarded to listen to some sets I have done in the past few weeks. I was so relieved to hear how much better they are. I really have improved noticeably. I mean, this is no surprise; you would expect that practicing something several times a week years would yield improvement. But it was a relief to actually have some evidence.

I suppose I’ll review my second year of comedy on the drive back. Fourteen more hours of torturous self-realization. I can’t wait!

I’ve created a couple more git depots with some rather old code that has been written and open sourced for quite some time… but just never shared.

One is a simple C-based command-line utility to quickly fix line endings for text files. It can read and write text files that have DOS, UNIX or Mac line endings. It’s very simple and quite peppy, and does a simple check for binary files before proceeding, so you can use it with confidence. It’s called “fixle”… very quick to type, fast to use. It replaces files in place. Developed on Mac OS X, it should work on any UNIX.

http://github.com/richardkiss/fixle/tree/

Another is a pair of Core Audio utilities for Mac OS X that provide a sort of “device” for audio: speakerpipe (which lets you dump data to the speaker) and mikepipe (which dumps data from the mike).

http://github.com/richardkiss/speakerpipe-osx/tree

Ideally, the functionality in speakerpipe should be integrated into the Mac OS X build of the very useful command-line utility sox so it can play sounds on the Mac. (Hmm, some browsing of the project seems to indicate that this functionality is coming.)

Both of these were written years ago and just never released into the wild. I release them, with BSD-style licenses, with the hope that they will be useful. No warranties though suckah!

It’s not too often that one gets the chance to experience a sensation that is completely new and unexpected, and even less often that it comes from completely mundane circumstances. But it happened to me.

The other day I was having dinner with my comedian friend Ben at a Thai restaurant in Sunnyvale that shall remain nameless. We had been there for a few hours, and had already finished eating, just discussing a multitude of topics. I was rocking my chair a little bit, when suddenly, something seemed wrong.

I felt as though I was losing control. Like something was wrong. Maybe there was an earthquake, or I was having a stroke, but I couldn’t hold myself up. I started to lilt to the left, then sink lower. Not in a symmetrical way. I was completely confused and baffled as to what was happening, and not just on a conscious level — my body had no intuitive knowledge how to respond or stay up.

Soon, I found myself, sitting on the floor. Balance restored, I finally felt normal again. It was just a few seconds, but it was remarkably bizarre and weird. I looked around in an effort to figure out what happened.

It quickly became obvious that the left front leg of my chair had failed. It had twisted off and broken. Not cleanly, either. It was as though the leg had rotted or been eaten by termites, and finally been weakened enough to just slowly give up.

I was completely uninjured, and confused enough that I was not even embarrassed.

Ben pointed out that the detached leg looked like a pepper mill, so I picked it up and mimed doling out fresh pepper in the way that fancy waiters do (although not generally at a Thai restaurant).

I swapped the broken chair with another at a nearby table, and we resumed our conversation.

On the way out, Ben, being nonstandard, said to a waiter “You’re sorry that happened,” and the waiter, who was not quite fluent, responded with “That’s okay.”

Surreal.