Technicality

31ST OF OCTOBER, THE YEAR 2007

INSTALLING PSYCOPG2 IN MAC OS 10.4 WITH MACPYTHON AND MACPORTS

For some foolish reason, I installed MacPython on a MacBook Pro (Intel) and installed PostgreSQL with MacPorts. When I tried to install psycopg2, I was getting it kept breaking when it couldn’t find the libraries Python said were probably in /opt /Developer/SDKs/MacOSX10.4u.sdk/ and Postgres said were /opt/local/. libz was being especially problematic.

My solution:

  1. In the psycopg dir, edit setup.cfg and add the line

    library_dirs=/opt/local/lib

  2. Add a symbolic link to patch weird zlib issues:

    ln -s /opt /Developer/SDKs/MacOSX10.4u.sdk/opt

    I know this is unpleasant, but it works. Got the idea from here.

Now the build should work. I still got warnings about arch conflicts, but I think this has something to do with it trying to build versions for both PPC and 386, and since I only need the 386 version, I blissfully ignore such warnings.

Books

15TH OF JULY, THE YEAR 2007

CROSS COUNTRY [...], BY ROBERT SULLIVAN

Cross Country: Fifteen Years and 90,000 Miles on the Roads and Interstates of America with Lewis and Clark, a lot of bad motels, a moving van, Emily Post, ... kids, and enough coffee to kill an elephantB-day pres from Ak, perhaps in honor of the one-year anniversary of my continent-spanning road trip last June. I flipped through it, thought it looked intriguing, but it was only when I took a closer look at it after returning to CA that I realized it was written by the guest on one of my favorite episodes of Fresh Air. There’s singing! Looking forward to it.

Books

15TH OF JULY, THE YEAR 2007

THE ROAD, BY CORMAC MCCARTHY

The RoadWhat’s this, literature? Must be Christmas booty. And indeed it is. I remember reading that Harold Bloom freaking loved McCarthy, and this book is ostensibly science fiction, regarding a father and son making their way across a post-apocalyptic wasteland, so it has to be sort of good right? Not really. What this book is is bleak. Really bleak. Occasionally horrific, always beautifully written, but monotonously, droningly bleak. I didn’t go in hoping for Mad Max or something, or even a plot. I just wanted a little more than constant, unending suffering. Maybe some hint at a thought, a message, beyond, “You can suffer more than you think . . . and canned peaches are actually kinda good.” Anyway, probably well above my head. Last McCarthy for me, thanks.

26TH OF JUNE, THE YEAR 2007

CARTOGRAPHY

Agh, been bad again. Another dry spell. I have had things to write about in the past month, but now they’re gone. Instead, I present you with a map my brother and I presented to my sister to guide her through her future haunts.

Marauder's Map of Williams

Map Detail

Cartographers