I've posted previously about my goal of building a gigantic dream home out of shipping containers. However, one thing that's become abundantly clear from the last few years of near-constant interstate and international relocations is that I accumulate way too much stuff, and could stand to simplify my life and reduce my overall footprint. One thing I've considered is getting a trailer or an RV, though I'm not sure whether that would give me enough room for the stuff I'd actually want to keep. However, as mobile as I've been, and could potentially be in the next few years, it might be nice to have a mobile home - not one of those manufactured homes that starts out mobile before becoming static, but an actual mobile home - that could be moved as necessary.
Via Facebook, I recently saw this article, which linked to this article. I'd probably go a slightly different way than either of these, but the idea is a good one. I could easily see taking a twenty- or forty-foot shipping container, wiring it up for electricity and climate control, installing a self-contained plumbing system, and then outfitting sleeping and living areas, a small kitchen, and a small(ish) bathroom.
I've previously mentioned CMOUTs and Allied Container, which make a variety of container-based structures for the military and other customers (plus there's Strategic Operations, which essentially decorates such structures). Safecastle also makes a variety of single-container shelters that would be similar to the concept that I'd be going for; the difference would be that my notional small home would be designed around portability, rather than survivability for the kind of conflagration that I doubt we'll ever see. (I've also looked at the Atlas Survival Shelters website, but they don't use containers, and they appear to have gone slightly off the rails.)
I've thought for a while that I need to follow my layout schematic of my dream home with a more detailed blueprint detailing wiring, plumbing, HVAC, and data lines. Maybe I should start with a small version based upon a single container? The effort continues.
Friday, 14 February 2014
Thursday, 13 February 2014
Travel Files: Debacle in Beirut
I've had some great opportunities to travel over the last few years. The worst vacation I ever took in my entire life was to Beirut, Lebanon. This is the story of that unforgettable debacle.
* * *
I'd always heard a lot of great things about Beirut; well, post-war Beirut. In January of 2012, my boss encouraged me to take some vacation time, so I scheduled a trip that included three full days there. I wouldn't say that I regret going there... But I also hope never to go back, and wouldn't dream of recommending it to anyone else.
An acquaintance of mine, Michael Totten, lived in Beirut for a few months during the Cedar Revolution. I consulted with him, and he recommended the Palm Beach Hotel. My first clue that Beirut might prove problematic was when their online booking system didn't work, forcing me to call to book. My second clue was when they called me during the first leg of my trip to inform me that my card had been "declined". I assured them that we could handle it once I arrived in Beirut, and went about the first leg of my trip. I also got a copy of the Hedonist's Guide To Beirut, which proved to be almost entirely worthless.
Once I landed in Beirut, I was flagged down by a cab guy. He hustled me into a cab driven by an intimidating Lebanese kid who spoke no English and, upon depositing me at the hotel, demanded $40 - twenty for the ten minute cab ride, and twenty for his "tip". I wasn't thrilled. Next up was attempting to settle the bill at the hotel. I figured that the card would work in person, but it didn't. At this point, I started to get a bit nervous. They sent me around the block to an ATM, which also wouldn't dispense money for me. At that point, I was really nervous. I pulled together all of the cash that I had on me, hoping that I'd be able to at least pay for one night to buy myself some time. I was able to come up with the money, in something like six different currencies - one of these being Iranian currency that I'd gotten from a money changer in the Gulf as a souvenir, and which the hotel wouldn't take because, and I quote, "That's Khomeini!" With the expectation that I might have to end my vacation early, I tried one more cash point at the Phoenicia, and was finally able to get cash without any issues. (Interestingly enough, although Lebanon has its own currency, it's apparently so unstable that they use and prefer American currency to their own.)
On my first full day in Beirut, I wanted to see Beirut's Roman ruins. Despite the worthless maps in my guidebook, I was able to find the Roman ruins of the Cardo Maximus, which are not only entirely inaccessible, but actually strewn with rubbish. Next on my agenda was the Roman baths, which were supposed to be fairly close. Unfortunately, most of the streetside maps had been destroyed. I ended up walking right past the street I needed to walk up, and probably walked a good mile in the wrong direction, then another mile or two in the wrong direction, and then began trying to get back to where I'd started from once I started seeing posters of Bashar al Assad, right around here. I finally made it to Khalil Gibran Park, where a guy offered to help me find what I was looking for. When I told him I was looking for the Roman baths, he said - and I quote - "I've lived in Beirut for thirty years, and I didn't know we had Roman baths." That turned out to be pretty pathetic, because they were about five minutes' walk from where we were standing, right where I'd passed by about two hours before. The baths turned out to be gorgeous, and extremely well preserved after having been buried for at least a millennium and a half. I took some pictures, and at that point I was pretty beat from the unexpected walking, so I ended up hanging out at a Starbucks for a couple of hours. I walked back to the hotel at that point, and I can't for the life of me remember whether I did anything else that night.
When I woke up on the second morning, I had horrible shin splints from all of that extra uphill walking the day before. As such, I wasn't really up for a lot of extra walking, so I decided to take Michael's advice and go to Monot Street. I took a cab, and had a lovely dinner at Le Relais de L'entrecĂ´te, a French steak-frites restaurant. I can only assume that it wasn't that particular meal that had me defecating my guts out in a hastily located bar's lavatory less than ten minutes after leaving the restaurant. Feeling none too great, I made my way back toward my hotel, and eventually just got another cab. I spent the rest of that night watching movies in my hotel room.
On my last full day in Beirut, I wanted to see the American University of Beirut, and specifically the AUB Archaeological Museum. The museum was really cool, and I enjoyed a stroll around the campus. (The book shop was fairly disorganized, but I grabbed a few souvenirs just the same.) I wandered back to the hotel, recouperated in my room for a bit, and then went to Gemmayze per Michael's recommendation. After wandering around for quite a while looking for a particular restaurant that was listed in my travel guide (but which I learned later had closed up shop quite a while earlier), I ended up eating at a pizza place before flagging down another overpriced taxi and heading back to my room for the night.
One of the hotel's taxi drivers was a former boxer whose name I think was Abu Saif, "Champion of Lebanon". His English was non-existent, but I was able to strike up a cordial relationship with him using my Arabic skills. We were able to arrange that he'd be the driver to take me to the airport, and after the number of fiascos I'd run into up to then, I was ready to leave. He got me to the airport, and I handed him a fifty dollar bill, expecting that he'd make change. He just looked overjoyed and hugged me, and at that point, I was done even fighting it, so I just let him take my money and made my way into the airport.
There was basically nowhere to sit, and nowhere to check in for my flight for the better part of an hour after my arrival. I kept asking, but nobody had any clue. It finally turned out that my airline shared a counter with some other carrier, so they finally opened the counter and I was able to check in. I went through the second security checkpoint, had lunch, and then went to sit near my gate. My attempt to read was eventually interrupted by some American guy who decided to tell me all about his life as a teacher in Saudi Arabia. Once it was finally time to board my flight, I did so. I was long since ready to make Lebanon an uncomfortable and fleeting memory.
Alas, that's not the end of my story. Upon arrival at my final destination, I grabbed my bags at the airport, only to find that my three knives, and only my three knives, had been removed from one of the pouches on my rucksack. I suppose it's possible that the security folks at my final destination confiscated them, but having flown through that particular airport a number of times, I highly doubt it. The Hezbollah jerks who operate Rafic Hariri International Airport stole my knives, including my original Leatherman PST, which they no longer manufacture. Can I prove they were knicked in Beirut, instead of my final destination? No. Can I do anything about it? No. Is that absolutely what happened? Of course it's absolutely what happened.
Beirut's a mess. There's a company called Solidere that's trying to redevelop parts of Beirut, and there are people who are protesting it for no good reason. There are perfectly fine buildings next to bombed out wrecks that ought to be knocked down and carted out. Nearly everyone I encountered was unhelpful, unfriendly, uninformed, or a combination of the three. The best things I can say about Beirut is that there was a smoking hot girl working the counter at the hotel, a smoking hot girl at that pizza place in Gemmayze, and a great archaeological museum and some beautiful Roman ruins that ultimately aren't worth visiting Beirut for. I can't recommend it to any other tourist when there are so many other great places in the Arab world to visit. It was the worst three vacation days I've ever spent. I should have stayed in the vacation spot where I'd come from for another three days...
But that's another story entirely.
I'd always heard a lot of great things about Beirut; well, post-war Beirut. In January of 2012, my boss encouraged me to take some vacation time, so I scheduled a trip that included three full days there. I wouldn't say that I regret going there... But I also hope never to go back, and wouldn't dream of recommending it to anyone else.
An acquaintance of mine, Michael Totten, lived in Beirut for a few months during the Cedar Revolution. I consulted with him, and he recommended the Palm Beach Hotel. My first clue that Beirut might prove problematic was when their online booking system didn't work, forcing me to call to book. My second clue was when they called me during the first leg of my trip to inform me that my card had been "declined". I assured them that we could handle it once I arrived in Beirut, and went about the first leg of my trip. I also got a copy of the Hedonist's Guide To Beirut, which proved to be almost entirely worthless.
Once I landed in Beirut, I was flagged down by a cab guy. He hustled me into a cab driven by an intimidating Lebanese kid who spoke no English and, upon depositing me at the hotel, demanded $40 - twenty for the ten minute cab ride, and twenty for his "tip". I wasn't thrilled. Next up was attempting to settle the bill at the hotel. I figured that the card would work in person, but it didn't. At this point, I started to get a bit nervous. They sent me around the block to an ATM, which also wouldn't dispense money for me. At that point, I was really nervous. I pulled together all of the cash that I had on me, hoping that I'd be able to at least pay for one night to buy myself some time. I was able to come up with the money, in something like six different currencies - one of these being Iranian currency that I'd gotten from a money changer in the Gulf as a souvenir, and which the hotel wouldn't take because, and I quote, "That's Khomeini!" With the expectation that I might have to end my vacation early, I tried one more cash point at the Phoenicia, and was finally able to get cash without any issues. (Interestingly enough, although Lebanon has its own currency, it's apparently so unstable that they use and prefer American currency to their own.)
On my first full day in Beirut, I wanted to see Beirut's Roman ruins. Despite the worthless maps in my guidebook, I was able to find the Roman ruins of the Cardo Maximus, which are not only entirely inaccessible, but actually strewn with rubbish. Next on my agenda was the Roman baths, which were supposed to be fairly close. Unfortunately, most of the streetside maps had been destroyed. I ended up walking right past the street I needed to walk up, and probably walked a good mile in the wrong direction, then another mile or two in the wrong direction, and then began trying to get back to where I'd started from once I started seeing posters of Bashar al Assad, right around here. I finally made it to Khalil Gibran Park, where a guy offered to help me find what I was looking for. When I told him I was looking for the Roman baths, he said - and I quote - "I've lived in Beirut for thirty years, and I didn't know we had Roman baths." That turned out to be pretty pathetic, because they were about five minutes' walk from where we were standing, right where I'd passed by about two hours before. The baths turned out to be gorgeous, and extremely well preserved after having been buried for at least a millennium and a half. I took some pictures, and at that point I was pretty beat from the unexpected walking, so I ended up hanging out at a Starbucks for a couple of hours. I walked back to the hotel at that point, and I can't for the life of me remember whether I did anything else that night.
When I woke up on the second morning, I had horrible shin splints from all of that extra uphill walking the day before. As such, I wasn't really up for a lot of extra walking, so I decided to take Michael's advice and go to Monot Street. I took a cab, and had a lovely dinner at Le Relais de L'entrecĂ´te, a French steak-frites restaurant. I can only assume that it wasn't that particular meal that had me defecating my guts out in a hastily located bar's lavatory less than ten minutes after leaving the restaurant. Feeling none too great, I made my way back toward my hotel, and eventually just got another cab. I spent the rest of that night watching movies in my hotel room.
On my last full day in Beirut, I wanted to see the American University of Beirut, and specifically the AUB Archaeological Museum. The museum was really cool, and I enjoyed a stroll around the campus. (The book shop was fairly disorganized, but I grabbed a few souvenirs just the same.) I wandered back to the hotel, recouperated in my room for a bit, and then went to Gemmayze per Michael's recommendation. After wandering around for quite a while looking for a particular restaurant that was listed in my travel guide (but which I learned later had closed up shop quite a while earlier), I ended up eating at a pizza place before flagging down another overpriced taxi and heading back to my room for the night.
One of the hotel's taxi drivers was a former boxer whose name I think was Abu Saif, "Champion of Lebanon". His English was non-existent, but I was able to strike up a cordial relationship with him using my Arabic skills. We were able to arrange that he'd be the driver to take me to the airport, and after the number of fiascos I'd run into up to then, I was ready to leave. He got me to the airport, and I handed him a fifty dollar bill, expecting that he'd make change. He just looked overjoyed and hugged me, and at that point, I was done even fighting it, so I just let him take my money and made my way into the airport.
There was basically nowhere to sit, and nowhere to check in for my flight for the better part of an hour after my arrival. I kept asking, but nobody had any clue. It finally turned out that my airline shared a counter with some other carrier, so they finally opened the counter and I was able to check in. I went through the second security checkpoint, had lunch, and then went to sit near my gate. My attempt to read was eventually interrupted by some American guy who decided to tell me all about his life as a teacher in Saudi Arabia. Once it was finally time to board my flight, I did so. I was long since ready to make Lebanon an uncomfortable and fleeting memory.
Alas, that's not the end of my story. Upon arrival at my final destination, I grabbed my bags at the airport, only to find that my three knives, and only my three knives, had been removed from one of the pouches on my rucksack. I suppose it's possible that the security folks at my final destination confiscated them, but having flown through that particular airport a number of times, I highly doubt it. The Hezbollah jerks who operate Rafic Hariri International Airport stole my knives, including my original Leatherman PST, which they no longer manufacture. Can I prove they were knicked in Beirut, instead of my final destination? No. Can I do anything about it? No. Is that absolutely what happened? Of course it's absolutely what happened.
Beirut's a mess. There's a company called Solidere that's trying to redevelop parts of Beirut, and there are people who are protesting it for no good reason. There are perfectly fine buildings next to bombed out wrecks that ought to be knocked down and carted out. Nearly everyone I encountered was unhelpful, unfriendly, uninformed, or a combination of the three. The best things I can say about Beirut is that there was a smoking hot girl working the counter at the hotel, a smoking hot girl at that pizza place in Gemmayze, and a great archaeological museum and some beautiful Roman ruins that ultimately aren't worth visiting Beirut for. I can't recommend it to any other tourist when there are so many other great places in the Arab world to visit. It was the worst three vacation days I've ever spent. I should have stayed in the vacation spot where I'd come from for another three days...
But that's another story entirely.
Tuesday, 11 February 2014
Favorite Passages from Wilfred Thesiger
One of the books I've read in the last couple of years (which is to say, it took me the better part of a year to finish it) is Arabian Sands by Wilfred Thesiger. Arabian Sands is his most famous work, followed by The Marsh Arabs. Someday, I may read The Marsh Arabs, but it'll be a few years. I took special interest in Arabian Sands after my 2012 trip to Oman, and used it extensively in one section of my postgraduate dissertation. I don't have page numbers for my two favorite quotes, which are probably hold the most enduring meaning for me.
I wouldn't have guessed before 2006 that I'd fall in love with the desert, but there's something addicting about a really good one. Aside from that, while writing my dissertation I used a number of quotes to illustrate the situation in Oman generally...
Next up, the US Army/Marine Corps Counterinsurgency Field Manual.
"The desert had already claimed me, though I did not know it yet."
[...]
"No man can live this life and emerge unchanged. He will carry, however faint, the imprint of the desert, the brand which marks the nomad; and he will have within him the yearning to return, weak or insistent according to his nature. For this cruel land can cast a spell which no temperate clime can match."
I wouldn't have guessed before 2006 that I'd fall in love with the desert, but there's something addicting about a really good one. Aside from that, while writing my dissertation I used a number of quotes to illustrate the situation in Oman generally...
"Oman is largely inhabited by the Ibadhis, a sect of the Kharijites who separated themselves from the rest of Islam at the time of Ali, the fourth Caliph, and have been noted ever since for their condemnation of others. The Ibadhis have always maintained that their Imam or religious leader should be elected. The Al bu Said dynasty which ruled Oman from 1744, and to which the present Sultan of Muscat belongs, succeeded, however, in establishing an hereditary succession, but its neglect of the elective principle had always been resented by its subjects. The growth of Omani sea power between 1784 and 1856, overseas conquests, of which Zanzibar was the most important, and especially the removal of the capital from Rustaq to Muscat on the coast, weakened the hold of the Al bu Said rulers over the interior of the country, while foreign treaties and outside interference added to the fanatical resentment of the tribesmen. In 1913 the tribes, both Ghafari and Hanawi, rebelled and elected Salim bin Rashid al Kharusi as their Imam. The Sultan of Muscat rapidly lost all control over the interior and by 1915 the Imam was threatening Muscat. His forces, however, suffered a serious defeat when they attacked a British force outside Matrah. The Imam was murdered in 1920, and Muhammad bin Abdullah al Khalili was then elected. In the same year the Treaty of Sib was signed between the Sultan and the Omani sheikhs, not between the Sultan and the Imam. By this treaty the Sultan agreed not to interfere in the internal affairs of Oman."... and Dhofar specifically...
- Arabian Sands, page 273
"The present Imam, Muhammad bin Abdullah, was now an old man, a fanatical reactionary and bitterly hostile to the Sultan and to all Europeans. The interior of Oman was consequently more difficult for a European to penetrate in 1948 than it had been when Wellsted went there more than a hundred years before; for both Wellsted and his three successors had travelled under the protection of the Sultans of Muscat who were recognized by the tribes in the interior."
- Arabian Sands, page 273-274
"Zayid, as Shakhbut's representative, controlled six of the villages in Buraimi. The other two acknowledged the Sultan of Muscat as their nominal overlord, as did the tribes who lived in and around the mountains northward from Ibri to the Musandam Peninsula, although in fact this area was independent tribal territory. Ibri itself and the interior of Oman was ruled by the Imam. His authority was strong in the mountains and in all the towns, but was weak among the large and powerful Bedu tribes of the Duru and Wahiba who live on the steppes bordering on the Sands."
- Arabian Sands, page 271
"Each of the Trucial Sheikhs had a band of armed retainers recruited from the tribes, but only Shakhbut had any authority among the tribes themselves, and he maintained this authority by diplomacy, not by force. There was no regular force anywhere on the Trucial Coast nor in Buraimi which could be used to support the authority of the Sheikhs. The Trucial Oman Scouts had not yet been raised, and although the R.A.F. had an aerodrome at Sharja it was only a staging post on the route to India."
- Arabian Sands, page 272
"Dhaufar belonged to the Sultan of Muscat, and he had insisted, when he allowed the R.A.F. to establish themselves there, that none of them should visit the town or travel anywhere outside the perimeter of the camp unless accompanied by one of his guards, and that none of them should speak to the local inhabitants."... after World War II. I found Arabian Sands both fascinating, and quite useful. Despite seeing himself as laconic, Thesiger had a way with words. His descriptions are vivid, and you really feel as if you're there in the Rub al Khali with Thesiger and his Bedouin guides. It's a great book, and I highly recommend it to anyone who shares my fascination with the romance of Arabia.
- Arabian Sands, page 43
"About 1877 Dhaufar had been occupied, after centuries of tribal anarchy, by a force belonging to the Sultan of Muscat, but in 1896 the tribes rebelled, surprised the fort that had been built at Salala, and murdered the garrison. It was several months before the Sultan was able to reassert his authority, which, however, has since remained largely nominal except on the plain surrounding the town."
- Arabian Sands, page 43
"Salala is a small town, little more than a village... When I arrived fishermen were netting sardines, and piles of these fish were drying in the sun. The whole town reeked of their decay. The Sultan's palace, white and dazzling in the strong sunlight, was the most conspicuous building, and clustered around it was the small suq or market, a number of flat-roofed mud-houses, and a labyrinth of mat shelters, fences, and narrow lanes."
- Arabian Sands, page 44
"It was obvious that, although the Qarra lived only a few miles from Salala, the Sultan of Muscat had little control over them. Arabs rule but do not administer. Their government is intensely individualistic, and is successful or unsuccessful according to the degree of fear and respect which the ruler commands, and his skill in dealing with individual men. Founded on an individual life, their government is impermanent and liable to end in chaos at any moment. To Arab tribesmen this system is comprehensible and acceptable, and its success or failure should not be measured in terms of efficiency and justice as judged by Western standards. To these tribesmen security can be bought to dearly by loss of individual freedom."
- Arabian Sands, page 46-47
Next up, the US Army/Marine Corps Counterinsurgency Field Manual.
Sunday, 9 February 2014
Defeating Technology: Podcast in Occultation
A while ago, I posted about finding hidden podcasts. I just had another victory. Last Summer, as I've mentioned previously, I discovered a female artist named Kristina Train. In that context, she was the featured vocalist in a Lexus commercial...
... in which she was performing a cover of Aretha Franklin's "I'm Wandering".
Last week, I discovered that, like those Chris Isaak podcasts I found before, Kristina Train performed a live set that was broadcast on NPR all the way back in 2009. I could see that it was still available, but once again there was no download link. I took way too much time last week trying to decipher the location of the mp3 file. I decided to give it another try this evening, and was about to give up and beg help from Facebook, when I looked at the webpage code again and decided to try one more thing, informed in part by looking back at the link to that Chris Isaak link, I was able to find the link and download the file. I haven't had a chance to listen to it yet, but I'm looking forward to it, and it'll be nice to be able to listen to it without being confined to my laptop. (I may even listen in the car!)
... in which she was performing a cover of Aretha Franklin's "I'm Wandering".
Last week, I discovered that, like those Chris Isaak podcasts I found before, Kristina Train performed a live set that was broadcast on NPR all the way back in 2009. I could see that it was still available, but once again there was no download link. I took way too much time last week trying to decipher the location of the mp3 file. I decided to give it another try this evening, and was about to give up and beg help from Facebook, when I looked at the webpage code again and decided to try one more thing, informed in part by looking back at the link to that Chris Isaak link, I was able to find the link and download the file. I haven't had a chance to listen to it yet, but I'm looking forward to it, and it'll be nice to be able to listen to it without being confined to my laptop. (I may even listen in the car!)
Saturday, 8 February 2014
Podcasts: Selections from the BBC
I get a lot of my podcasts from the BBC. I've ready mentioned Global News (Site; RSS) and Newshour (Site; RSS), which were two of the first podcasts I ever listened to. I also mentioned Xtra (Site; RSS), which I use for Arabic listening exercises; and Kermode and Mayo's Film Reviews (Site; RSS), which are pretty excellent because Dr. Kermode frequently goes off on excellent rants about how rubbish so many films are.
The BBC has some other podcasts I've taken some interest in over the years. The BBC does documentaries, all of which get archived. At the moment, the main page lists all of their documentaries since 2011 (Site; RSS), and they also have pages for their documentaries from 2007, 2008, 2009, and 2010, respectively.
Another great resource is the BBC Reith Lectures (Site; RSS). My favorite BBC Reith Lecture was the lecture series from 1981 by Sir Laurence Martin, entitled "The Two-Edged Sword, which was about nuclear strategy. Hear me now and believe me later, that 1981 lecture series was one of the best resources I utilized in my entire year in graduate school.
The BBC has all sorts of podcasts, most of which I'm entirely disinterested in, but some of which you might find interesting or useful. Go have a look.
The BBC has some other podcasts I've taken some interest in over the years. The BBC does documentaries, all of which get archived. At the moment, the main page lists all of their documentaries since 2011 (Site; RSS), and they also have pages for their documentaries from 2007, 2008, 2009, and 2010, respectively.
Another great resource is the BBC Reith Lectures (Site; RSS). My favorite BBC Reith Lecture was the lecture series from 1981 by Sir Laurence Martin, entitled "The Two-Edged Sword, which was about nuclear strategy. Hear me now and believe me later, that 1981 lecture series was one of the best resources I utilized in my entire year in graduate school.
The BBC has all sorts of podcasts, most of which I'm entirely disinterested in, but some of which you might find interesting or useful. Go have a look.
Tuesday, 4 February 2014
Clearing the Books
I own something on the order of five hundred books, maybe more. A few years ago, I spent a day or two cataloguing all of them. That list is woefully out of date, so at the moment I'm trying to go through a bunch of the books that I've taken from one place to another in my travels throughout America and the world, as many of these are absent from that master list. The ultimate goal of this effort is to produce a list that I can go through in order to decide what gets saved, and what gets culled.
My travels in the Middle East and Europe drove home the fact that I (and to a greater extent, we as Americans and Westerners) accumulate way too much stuff. For many years, I had a sort of pathological obsession with collecting books. My Kindle, other priorities for my budget, limited storage space, and the repeated exercise of having to move them from place to place has eased that obsession quite a bit. So, I'd like to get rid of a lot of the books that I've collected over the years - even some that I thought I'd probably keep forever, like the copies of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings that I read in college and intended that my kids would eventually read, but could probably be replaced with different copies later, or (as my friend The Bestie notes) even as E-books.
The first step is to get a definitive list. Then, I'll identify what I want to keep, and what I want to unload. After that, I'll figure out what I may be able to get money for, arrange to donate the stuff I can't sell, and go around to various used book shops in the area to try and unload the rest. I can think of about four used book shops in the area that I can bounce between, which could help me to recoup some of the expenses for books that I've accumulated over the years. I'll take a proverbial bath on them, which is a long-term lesson to be sure. Maybe one of these days, I'll be settled for long enough to put up three or four bookcases around a desk to make a sort of home office. In the mean time, with that many books, I have my work cut out for me.
My travels in the Middle East and Europe drove home the fact that I (and to a greater extent, we as Americans and Westerners) accumulate way too much stuff. For many years, I had a sort of pathological obsession with collecting books. My Kindle, other priorities for my budget, limited storage space, and the repeated exercise of having to move them from place to place has eased that obsession quite a bit. So, I'd like to get rid of a lot of the books that I've collected over the years - even some that I thought I'd probably keep forever, like the copies of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings that I read in college and intended that my kids would eventually read, but could probably be replaced with different copies later, or (as my friend The Bestie notes) even as E-books.
The first step is to get a definitive list. Then, I'll identify what I want to keep, and what I want to unload. After that, I'll figure out what I may be able to get money for, arrange to donate the stuff I can't sell, and go around to various used book shops in the area to try and unload the rest. I can think of about four used book shops in the area that I can bounce between, which could help me to recoup some of the expenses for books that I've accumulated over the years. I'll take a proverbial bath on them, which is a long-term lesson to be sure. Maybe one of these days, I'll be settled for long enough to put up three or four bookcases around a desk to make a sort of home office. In the mean time, with that many books, I have my work cut out for me.
Sunday, 2 February 2014
Topic: Shipping Container Housing
I've written previously about my efforts to design my dream home, the structural basis for which will be intermodal shipping containers.
I was first introduced to the concept of using converted shipping containers to build homes while working for the Army in California. As you can see from this view on Wikimapia, and these ground level pictures from Wikipedia (1, 2), the military uses lots of shipping containers to build villages for realistic urban warfare (MOUT) training, or for use as modular, purpose-built structures for locations where the military deploys overseas, or for various other purposes. A couple of the companies that provide these modified containers are CMOUTS and Allied Container. Other companies, like Safe Castle LLC and Atlas Survival Shelters, convert shipping containers for use as various types of emergency shelters. At least one company, Strategic Operations, provides conversion kits to alter the appearance of containers to make them more realistic for military training. Outside of military circles, there's a big Wikipedia article on shipping container architecture, and it's become a sort of darling of the environmentalist crowd due to its low cost and reuse of existing materials.
Posts on this topic will likely be sporadic, and I certainly won't be the best source on the Internet, but it's something I'm interested in and I'll be eager to share my thoughts and anything I find.
I was first introduced to the concept of using converted shipping containers to build homes while working for the Army in California. As you can see from this view on Wikimapia, and these ground level pictures from Wikipedia (1, 2), the military uses lots of shipping containers to build villages for realistic urban warfare (MOUT) training, or for use as modular, purpose-built structures for locations where the military deploys overseas, or for various other purposes. A couple of the companies that provide these modified containers are CMOUTS and Allied Container. Other companies, like Safe Castle LLC and Atlas Survival Shelters, convert shipping containers for use as various types of emergency shelters. At least one company, Strategic Operations, provides conversion kits to alter the appearance of containers to make them more realistic for military training. Outside of military circles, there's a big Wikipedia article on shipping container architecture, and it's become a sort of darling of the environmentalist crowd due to its low cost and reuse of existing materials.
Posts on this topic will likely be sporadic, and I certainly won't be the best source on the Internet, but it's something I'm interested in and I'll be eager to share my thoughts and anything I find.
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