On Saturday the 14th at 4AM UTC/GMT we will be upgrading the operating system of our network load balancers to a newer version, one that will allow us to use both CPUs! Nifty, because multiprocessing is nice.

Since we have 2 load balancers, the plan is to upgrade 1 at a time, and there really should be very little impact to our website. Hopefully you won't notice a thing and I'll get to go back to the hotel and watch some wonderful late night infomercials.

We've got a lot of exciting projects coming up for 2010 and we're hoping that we'll be able to deliver them all to you, that you will find it useful/cool/lovely and then you will use the site even more. Behind-the-scenes work like this will give us the capacity to handle the anticipated traffic, so expect a few more maintenance windows especially in the beginning of next year as we've got some neat ideas to improve performance around here! We had the recent 30-45 minute outage yesterday due to one of our logging databases filling up disk space -- not so great design coupled with my human error in handling the initial problem -- and it looks like we're going to finally have some resources to eliminate stuff like that. I can't wait!

As usual, I will be updating status.livejournal.org before and after, just in case you are not able to reach our main website during the work.

I don't believe that I ever told this story about my grandfather, whose name I inherited. My grandfather served as an Army Air Corps 1st Lieutenant in the Pacific Theater. He flew a P-51 Mustang in the 110th Tactical Reconnaissance Squadron (whose nickname was "The Musketeers"), and logged in over sixty missions, during which he became an "ace."

The young fellows in his squadron would sometimes play tricks on one another to break up the monotony of long missions: they would sometimes duck below the cloud cover and pop up in front of another buddy's plane to spook him--an inverted kind of leapfrog. It was during such a lull that one of his squadron ducked below the cloud cover to be greeted by a fusillade of Japanese gunfire, both hand weapons and mounted anti-aircraft. The squadron was flying through a narrow, steep valley at the time; they were essentially trapped, and had to run the gauntlet of the entire valley to escape. Many of his fellow pilots panicked and pulled up into the worst of the crossfire, and were quickly killed. My grandfather kept his plane low to the ground and hit the throttle as hard as he could; despite this, his plane was completely torn to pieces by all the gunfire. Out of his ten-man squadron, only he and another pilot made it out of that valley.

They made their way out over the sea, where the other plot bailed (not clear if he was picked up later or not). My grandfather gave serious thought to bailing himself, but instead decided to attempt to get his plane back to the base--a tricky thing, since one of his landing gear wheels was pinned inside the wing by Japanese ammunition. His cockpit's glass canopy was shattered to the point of being opaque, save for a small five-inch clear spot on the lower left of his windscreen.

He made his two-wheeled approach to the jungle landing strip, whereupon his Mustang cartwheeled until it came to rest upside-down in a ditch, breaking his two front teeth. They righted his plane so that my grandfather could get out. This is when he discovered that he made the right decision: apparently, a bullet had rammed across his cockpit and took out the straps of his parachute, which slid off his back as he stood up. He then looked over his shoulder at the useless parachute, and his plane riddled with hundreds of bullet holes (they gave up counting after 300). He then passed out.

Anyway, that's the family lore.

The 110th Tactical Reconnaissance Squadron, aka "The Musketeers." My grandfather is circled in red. Note the cowboy boots. Cocky little bastards, the lot of them. The Air Corps took shorter men because they tend to hold up under high "g" maneuvers that would cause most taller men to pass out.



The Squadron's Logo.



A 110th TRS P-51. My grandfather named his "Donnie Allen," after my grandmother and father, who was an infant at the time.



~W

sixwordstories
Whether you're in the mood for a creative challenge or you're short on time or attention span, this semi-addictive community is perfect for those who find flash fiction way long. Once you get the hang of it, you won't be able to stop. The prince turned into a frog. The girl ran home to mother. Tough to write. Easy to read. It's a double threesome of fun.

dailyfoodie
Delicious, ambitious, and occasionally nutritious dishes make for an eclectic, all-you-can-eat feast. Whether you're searching for recipes for your next dinner party or you're jonesing for a late-night brownie fix, your cravings are sure to be well sated. A warm and inclusive community that welcomes all orientations, from carnivores to vegans, from gourmands to junk-food junkies. Guaranteed bias-free, food-positive, and pan-epicurian.

This Wednesday, The Corduroy Club will be holding its grand annual meeting. More information here.

Seeing these boys tonight at Record Collector in Bordentown, NJ. My grandmother used to play spoons and thimbles/washboard in a jug band. I'm a sucker for the stuff. Anyone who can't tap a toe to this stuff needs a fun transplant.

The empire strikes back

In recent weeks, we've taken huge steps towards blocking spam accounts on LiveJournal. In fact, we've suspended as many as 30,000 accounts in a single day! We've implemented several pre-emptive measures to prevent the creation of spam accounts, and we've honed our detection of suspicious content. Spam bots are a crafty lot, so we'll continue to refine our tactics and keep up the good fight to keep you safe from spam attacks on LiveJournal.

RSS feeds again

If you're addicted to xkcd_rss, icanhaschzbrgr, or other syndicated feeds, we're pleased to report that we've resolved the update error that was mucking up your RSS feeds. While content was being pulled correctly, it wasn't being posted to the feeds themselves. Late last week, we finally nailed down what we hope was the root problem, so content should post properly. We thank you for your patience.

Wii have killer CSI Deadly Intent contests!

c_s_i

If you're a gamer who loves CSI, have Wii got news for you! c_s_i is sponsoring killer contests. Simply post a question to a member of the CSI crew. The winner will get a free copy of CSI: Deadly Intent for Nintendo Wii (with a retail value of $39.99) and get their question answered by a member of the CSI writing team! There's also a fantastic monthly contest. To enter, join c_s_i, play the online version of CSI: Deadly Intent, and respond to a two-part query for a chance to win a Wii! Entries will be judged on composition and originality. Sorry, but you must be a U.S. resident and over 18 years old to participate. Check out the rules here.

Enveloped in postcards

Last week, we asked you to send in postcards to help us decorate our drab concrete walls. Here's a photo of the results so far! Thank you so much and please keep them coming! You can mail them to Frank the Goat, Esq., c/o LiveJournal, Inc., 539 Bryant Street, Suite 210, San Francisco, CA 94107. Be sure to include your username, since we'll be giving ten random users paid account credits.

Photos of the week

If you haven't visited our new LiveJournal photo community, you're in for an amazing visual trip. LiveJournal users from around the world will take you on a scenic journey to everywhere. Post your own pictures or kick back and enjoy at lj_photophile. You can view some of this week's awesome photos after the jump. Please start tagging with geographic location, since we'd like to track all the places around the world represented in this community. Keep on commenting too!
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Becky was a friendly acquaintance whose paintings I admired. Tragically, Becky was killed in October 2004 while she was changing a flat tire on I-95. She was just 28 years old.

Becky's portraits are now on display at The National Portrait Gallery in Washington DC, which open s this weekend. It's gratifying to see her work get the attention it deserves.

Just thought I'd see if anyone wants my skull after I'm done with it. I'm not planning on being buried, anyway, and I'd rather it go to a friend. All you have to do is write up a pitch/proposal on what you'd do with it. The winner gets my fat noggin upon my demise. Now go!

There's no polite way to broach this topic, so I'll just ask: what's your take on men shaving their bits? I'm told by my lady friends that it's now become de rigeur. I've never given it much thought before, but now I find myself in the position of being regarded as a middle-aged dude with a big bush. Thoughts?

I discovered today that while beaver scat is essentially sawdust, it is still quite slippery.

This gentian nearly glowed amid the dead vegetation. Found it growing on a cedar bog riverbank, which struck me as an odd place to find one. Seemed to be the very last in bloom this season.

Only found one fragrant water lily bloom today, too. Got chilly out there.

"It takes a certain kind of courage for a man to go into a battle with rouged cheeks, wearing a chiffon scarf and waving a copy of Vogue — and quite another to go back under fire to snatch a wounded comrade. I don’t know what bias this exposes, but it’s hard to imagine both forms of bravery inhabiting the same person. Yet they did in Neil Roger, a London couturier before and after serving in World War II, a major wag, a tireless flâneur, a glittering social bauble, a wasp-waisted dandy...the list goes on. To say that "Bunny," as he was widely known, was from another era is only to state the depressingly obvious."

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