Two pieces of background info

A recent comment clued me to the fact that I haven’t provided much background info on some of the things I do (and post on) – assuming that both people who read my blog are already in the know. Seems like I may have more than a handful of readers, so I’ll try to fill in some of the blanks.

I’m a falconer. Click here for a good definition of what falconry is. I have a six year old male Red-tailed Hawk and a sixteen week old female Peregrine Falcon. Brick, the Red-tail, hunts rabbits, snowshoe hare, squirrel and pheasant; I plan to fly Luz, the Peregrine, on ducks on the salt marsh. My falconry bullet point list:

  • Falconry. Look at the word. Notice it does not contain the letter “d” or the letter “t”. I don’t know if it’s a local thing or not, but if I hear someone pronounce it falcundry one more time…
  • Q: You let the bird go? A: Yes. Q: And it comes back? A: So far. Every time we go hunting there is the chance that – if I haven’t prepared properly – I could come home without the hawk. Lost birds are no joke – falconers try like hell to find them – but that risk is a necessary part of the sport.
  • Q: So it’s a pet? A: NFW. I’m not all that sure what a pet is, to be honest with you. I have dogs – they work for/with me every fall when we go bird hunting and the rest of the year have duties around the house (basically, do as I ask) and are demo dogs when I teach dog obedience classes. There are periods each year when they are in charge – if they tell me there’s a woodcock in the alders I damn well believe them. Pets? I guess, but I don’t think of them that way. The birds? Definitely not. I make myself useful to the hawks when we’re out hunting; we strike a bargain – if the human produces slips (opportunities on game), then the hawk will stay interested.
  • Q: It brings the game back? A: No. (We’ll put aside some of the things I’ve heard you can do with Merlins). Carrying (flying off with the game) is a vice – a bad thing. They stay put and allow you to approach them (it’s called ‘making in’).
  • You may have gotten the sense already that falconry is a vocabulary-rich undertaking. True. Even better, much of the vocabulary has been essentially unchanged for hundreds of years – rich gravy for lovers of good words.

If you are interested in finding out more about the sport, permit me to recommend Stephen Bodio’s A Rage for Falcons. It’s a fantastic overview – not a how-to (those exist too), but a why-to.

Folks who don’t know from falconry, please understand that writing the paragraphs above was more than a little stress inducing. Folks who do know – if there’s something you don’t like, or that you’d like to add, please comment.

*

My nom-de-blog, Dr. Hypercube – what’s up with that? First, I’m neither an MD nor a PhD. Also, not multidimensional (beyond three + time). A year ago, as I was starting to blog, I was also setting up a test network. I needed a bunch of host names and rather than do something boring, I decided to use monster names. It was a decent sized net (VMWare rules!); I went to the Kaiju Big Battel web site to replenish my monster supply. From there, it was no leap at all to Dr. Cube – my first modification, Dr. Tesseract, was just too obscure. Hey, presto – Dr. H!

Hooray for Kaiju: professional wrasslin’ moves + crazy monster suits + cardboard buildings in the squared circle = hilarity.

On the subject of anonymity – I thought originally that it might be a good idea. As I did more and more blogging, I cared about anonymity less and less. At this point, if you want to know my real name it’s about four clicks away.

Update – ‘The squared circle’ is the way pro wrasslers refer to the ring. Real wrestling (no make-up, completely trashed ears) is done on a mat within a circle. The pro show is done in a (modified for bounce, I think) boxing ring- a square. Those two factoids plus high school geometry yield a great phrase for the likes of Mean Gene Okerlund.

Update on Dinah

She’s settling in well – still up twice in the night for a pee break, usually midnight and three. I’d forgotten just how quickly puppies change at this age. She’s gone from falling over herself every tenth step to trotting through the woods behind the big dogs and hopping over small logs like she knows what she’s doing. Some pictures of her for your amusement…

The arrival:

*

*

On duty at work:

*

Expect most pictures, for the next few months at least, to be of a sleeping dog. When she’s awake, I usually don’t have time to snap away.

Saturday AM cleanup

A very neat artist/caddis collaboration (via ectoplasmosis). I guess at nugget and wire scale the density of gold isn’t an issue. Any fisherpeople visiting New Hampshire in late June should make a point of getting up to Errol to catch the Alderfly hatch – Alderflies are medium-large caddis that emerge in huge numbers. Also – I’ve got to get a subscription to Cabinet!

*

Goldfarming was a popular topic last week. I heard a reasonably good explanation on NPR in the context of South Korean gaming and some law-making around same. Then a BoingBoing post (great title – “Gold-farmers beat ad-ban by spelling URL in dead gnomes”) pointed me at this crazy video.

*

Charlie Stross weighed in with a great little essay about explaining the video above to someone from the distant past – say, 1977. I can’t end a goldfarming item without a hat tip to Cory Doctorow’s great story on the topic – Anda’s Game.

Finally, on a personal note, things are going well (knock wood) with Luz, preparations are being made for the shorthair pup, and the summer is flying by. My energy has been very critter directed over the past few weeks – expect posts to be either linky (like this one) or snapshots of falcons, dogs, etc.

Puppies!

Posting’s been light, and is likely to continue that way. I had to take time to post a few pictures of this morning’s puppy meet ‘n greet, though – clicking on any of the images below will take you to the Flickr photoset (rather than embiggening the picture, as is the usual mode).

My two – at least at this moment – faves:

*

Rogue wave of pups (or is that wave of rogue pups?) swamps the S.S. Briar:

*

*

*

Pinned in the timestream

Driving home from the airport with Luz last Thursday night, I had an unusual internal experience. Unusual for me, at least – maybe this happens to other people all the time (though I think I’d hear about it). We were driving north on 95, well into the northern suburbs; it was dark and I was poking along. Being the worrywart that I am, I started reviewing all the preparation I’d done for Luz’s arrival – especially that morning’s final “is everything in place?” inventory. That’s when the feeling hit me – the prep work happened in a previous lifetime. I’m not going all Shirley MacLaine here; what I mean is that in the hours between preparation and the drive north, my life shifted, jogged sideways, rolled slowly over a curb. I had a strong feeling of time racing by – my truck, tootling towards home, was not only moving through space, but also through time. “Well, duh”, saith you and “I know, I know”, I respond – but very rarely do I get the sense of time’s passage so concretely. I had an intense sensation of ‘the present’ being a membrane – or better yet, a shock wave – one moment thick and I was (and am) pinned to this surface translating the future, as it arrives, into my past by experiencing, sifting and storing. I’m sure there’s a name for what I experienced (“whoa, dude”, perhaps), and the Bo tree it wasn’t, but it was strong and – at least from where I sit – interesting.

The More You Know

“She” referenced in the post below is an immature Peregrine Falcon. She’s mostly pealei and weighs a little more than a thousand grams. I’m manning and taming her following the suggestions made by Ronald Stevens in Observations on Modern Falconry.

Boston’s Logan Intl. Airport has always been tough to navigate, but after years and years of arrivals, depatures, pick ups and drop offs, I had it pretty well mastered. Now, in the aftermath of the Big Dig and Ted Williams Tunnel project, I’m back to square one. Thursday night’s trip to the cargo center at Logan was highlighted by an involuntary 2 way transit of the Splendid Splinter (aka Corpsicle) tunnel ($3 toll, thank you very much) and beaucoup white knuckle driving. When I know where I’m going, I can do a pretty good job of getting into a Boston driving headspace (aggression punctuated by near psychotic behavior); when I’m unsure about turns or really need to get somewhere, I become one of the herbivores, cut out of the herd and slaughtered by predatory cabbies. Sigh.

A Very Nice Morning

That was a thoroughly satisfactory start to the day! It began with Boone and me taking a quick trip into Durham for coffee. I brought the laptop with me in hopes of finding a stray wifi signal – and I did. So, we relaxed at a table for a bit; I drank my java and web surfed and Boone shmoozed up the passers-by.

*

Two recommendations from the breakfast surf (from the same thought provoking blog – Crooked Timber) :

  • The Bugs Bunny/Saki connection for any Edwardians out there (I have someone in mind). Mmm, Filboid Studge!
  • A good entry point into the Gorman/Encyclopedia Brittanica dustup (I’m still reading the posts) aka Neo-Luddite Quasi-Mandarins vs. Creationist Global-warming-denying Maoist Hive-mind-wannabe Dirty Haight-Ashbury Hippies in Some Sinister Borg-like Collective. On the same topic, Clay Shirky’s post on Keen’s Cult of the Amateur is worth a read.

The tone of Gorman’s remedial lecture implies that educators now devote the better part of their day to teaching students to shove pencils up their nose while Googling for pornography. I do not believe this to be the case. (It would be bad, of course, if it were.) *

When we got back to the house, Boone relaxed in his crate in the truck while I took Janey for a run. A note on dog juggling – I have realized that I just can’t let Boone come on runs. He has tendonitis/arthritis/something screwed up in one of his hind hocks and the only way to keep it from bothering him (and to keep him from worrying it) is to limit his crashing around. This is a dog who has paid his dues – I am not interested in making things hard on him either physically or mentally. Crating him up and taking Janey out would not be a good thing, but taking him out for coffee and then leaving him where he can’t see the girl and I heading out – that works. I’m not sure what I’m going to do this fall when it’s bird hunting time – he’ll need to come along – I guess I’ll cross that bridge…

Janey had a good jaunt – she’s old enough (7) that I can’t run her into shape in the fall, so I’m paying attention to keeping her in decent condition over the summer. We got back to the house, dogs went on their tie-out in the yard while I got the Red Tail out to weather and watered some plants. We (canines and I) are now back in – dogs are sleeping, I’m finishing up this post – it’s 9:45 and I’m off to work on some projects!

Gyr

A friend’s young gyrfalcon. I’m always amazed by how playful – even puppy-like – young gyrs are – this beastiegirl is no exception.