Who? Well, it's the Stonecutters Masons Illuminati Knights Templar Members of the Eulogean Club. In case you haven't noticed, in the past overlord election both candates were members of Skull and Crossbones. I wonder what it was like to be freshly tapped bonesmen at the time of the election. There must have been no suspense: one way or the other there would be a bonesman president.

In my mind, as far as secret societies go, Skull and Bones is the coolest one. It found exactly the right balance of secrecy/publicity. What fun is it to be in a secret society that is so secret that nobody knows how cool it is? Bones have alway had a double standard: on one hand the members are sworn to absolute secrecy, on the other, the tapping process (invitation of new members) was almost always a very public act. Their meeting place is not a secret underground bunker, but a huge very well known, although mostly windowless clubhouse building, The Tomb. George Bush Presidential Library proudly shows a Bones yearbook photo, complete with a grandfather clock and (supposedly, but not likely) Geronimo's skull stolen from the grave by Prescott Bush.

Yearbook photos like this show up in the stranges places, like this livejournal community post. I was almost expecting to see Montgomery Burns (who's known to be a member) in those pictures.

The coolest amenity is not the Tomb or the loads of morally questionable and/or stolen stuff inside (there are reports that they stole and kept things like Elihu Yale's tombstone and eat off of Hitler's china). It's their own fricking private island. It's not in the most convinient or most secluded location - there are literally thousands of islands in Thousand Islands.

My favorite quote from "Secrets of the Tomb: Skull and Bones, the Ivy League, and the Hidden Paths of Power" is this:

Guests sleep in cots in cabins-granted, some of them are double-bedded cots -- if they can slumber through the blare of the tour boat that sometimes circles the island with a guide shouting through a megaphone, "And there is the secret island that belongs to Skull and Bones!"

Yes, being "secret" like this, famously and loudly is probably the Bones' greatest achievement. That, and the three Bonesman presidents of the United States. And the innumerable CIA directors, senators, judges and other notables.

Anyway, a lot of people own islands, most of which are cheaper than an average Manhattan 2-bedroom apartment. Computer scientist Ed Fredkin has one and so does denim fetishist inventor Dean Kamen. And a lot of societies, secret or otherwise have cool clubhouses (at Harvard, even The Harvard Lampoon has a cool castle). See, you don't need to belong to free-world-ruling elite to enjoy cool stuff like that.

Fancy societies with awesome amenities seem to be a perogative of those with Ivy League education. I really don't have that. It's wasn't Andover and Yale for me. It was Sheepshead Bay High School (one of the so-called dirty dozen, 13 worst schools in New York) and Brooklyn College.

I don't agree with those pooh-poohing American educational system, as my experience with it was very positive. In the high school I was able to take many college level classes with many outstanding teachers. And Brooklyn College is not on Princeton Review's top 10 best value colleges list for nothing.

eBay is such a horrible hassle these days. I tried selling a few things recently, and between the horrible UI, all the hassles with payments, answering questions and shipping it turned out to be a huge waste of time.

I am sitting on a small fortune of items I would like to get rid of, but I don't want to deal with strangers on Craigslist or going through the eBay rigomarole. An ideal solution would have been an eBay drop-off shop, but it seems that these went the way of the Dodo.

eBay drop-off store is an idea that many have tried, but it turned out mostly like Seinfeld's Michigan deposit scam.

In one episode Newman keeps trying to find a way to make a scheme that would bring New York cans and bottles to Michigan, which has a 10 cent deposit instead of New York's 5 cent one. Kramer keeps telling him that it would not work due to the transportation overhead, but finally Newman figures out a way to get a postal truck for free.

It seems that the time overhead is so high on running an eBay store is so high, that most of the bigger ones that tried it went out of business.

In reality the Michigan deposit scam is against the law, but it actully costs the state 14 million a year in lost revenues. It's doable.

eBay is showing Twitter-like incompetence in serving its customers. While Google gives its customers huge amounts of storage, email, and software for free, eBay can't seem to provide free image galleries and other useful services, selling out its customers to an unsavory bunch of third party providers. Image storage is not a very difficult technical problem, and neither is url shortening, but eBay and Twitter are still in the dark about it.

Instead of making selling on eBay easy, developing drop off stores, and making its service better eBay seems to be focused on buying and selling unrelated busenesses for billions of dollars (and losing money on it).

"Bureaucrat Conrad, you are technically correct -- the best kind of correct." (Futurama, 2acv11: How Hermes Requisitioned His Groove Back).

Today I would like to talk to you about an afflicion that affects a large number ot tech workers: a penchant for finding the most technically correct and the most useless way to answer one's queries.

Here's an example of my interaction with my favorite support engineer at our hosting company. We were chatting about DNS setup, and it was perfectly clear to him that what I meant to ask was "is it an A record or a CNAME record".

"2:31 PM me: what kind of a record is it?
2:31 PM him: A DNS record :)"

This brand of humor probably has its beginnings in early computer games, like Zork, where the computer would answer your questions only when they were asked "correctly". Techies often take this kind of humor to ridiculous extremes.

For instance, I have a high school friend, L. A brilliant programmer, he likes to think that it's hilarious to answer every single question this way. L lives in New York. I once was talking to another friend of mine, R, who is not a techie and who lives in Boston. I was telling her about L's penchant for being technically correct. I illustrated this phenomenon with an old Soviet joke:

"Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson went on a hot air balloon ride. A storm took the balloon above the clouds, and after a few days brought it down close to the ground. Below a man was herding sheep.

- "Where are we?" - Dr. Watson cried to him.
- The man looked at them and replied - "You are in a hot air balloon."

The wind once again picked up and pulled the balloon beyond clouds.

- "What do you think that man's profession is?" - asked Holmes.
- "Why, he's a shepherd" - answered Watson.
- "No, he's a computer programmer".
- "Why do you think so?"
- "Elementary, my dear Watson. His answer was technically correct, but absolutely useless. So, where do you think we are now?"
- "I have no idea - he didn't say, did he?"
- "We are in the Soviet Union."
- "Why?"
- "A computer programmer is herding sheep.""

My friend laughed, but I insisted that L was really like that in real life.

A few months later R called me and said, "You won't believe this story. I was in New York, walking down Brighton beach. I really needed to get some cash. I asked a passerby - "Excuse me, where's the closest ATM?". "Why, in the closest bank, of course" - he answered with a smile. R stared for a bit, and then said, "say, is your name L, by any chance?"".

It was indeed L, whom she randomly met in NYC.

I laughed, and told her another, old Jewish joke about search algorithms and certain applications of the Drake Equation.

"Two Jews, one young and one old, are riding Kiev - Odessa train. The old one is looking at the young one and thinking to himself -

"This young man, he's either going to get off at Zmerinka or at Odessa. You only go to Odessa to make money or to spend money. He's too young to make money and too shabbily dressed to spend money, so he's going to Zmerinka. You only go to Jmerinka for weddings or for funerals. Nobody died for a while, so he's going to a wedding. He's not carriying a present, so he's going to his own wedding. There are only two eligible brides - Sarah and Rebecca. But Rebecca just got married, so this means he's going to marry Sarah. Sarah is not very good looking and has a bad temper, so only a total putz would marry her. Now, who's a total putz in Kiev?"

- "Excuse me, are you Shlomo, Moishe Rabinowitz's son?" - he asks the younger gentleman.
"Yes I am, do you know me?" - says they youngster.
"No, I don't know you," - says the old man - "but I figured you out".