Random Thoughts


Yeah, that’s all. Nothing more. Just lamenting the lack of an Xbox 360 for the next two weeks.

Oh fine, here’s an unrelated… thing: Eddie Izzard, mass-murdering fuck-heads, tea and cake.


Mathematician 1: I have three sons. Their ages add up to 13. [Looks around] And the product of their ages is equal to the address on that building there.

Mathematician 2: Anything else?

Mathematician 1: My oldest son has red hair.

Mathematician 2: Ah, I know their ages.

What are they?

A husband and a wife of 30 years are being interviewed and are asked how they managed to keep a family together all this time. The wife responds: “It’s all about a clear separation of labor. My husband makes the big decisions and I make the small ones. I choose what’s for dinner, what school our kids attend and what house to get. My husband decides when to declare war on China.”

This really should not have come as a surprise for me, but I was amazed at how different people can interpret the above joke to further advocate their own personal views and opinions. Meh.

The mirror test (Wikipedia article here) is a method of measuring self-awareness by verifying if an animal is able to recognize itself in a mirror. But, really, I don’t see this as anything monumental. It’s not so much testing self-awareness as testing the complexity of the physical model that the organism maintains. (What I am here calling a physical model is the conceptual model of the world we necessarily maintain in our minds. This is the model that allows you to, for instance, walk around your house without concentrating too much on your surroundings, as you know where everything should be and was, the last time your model was “updated”. Unless you have little furry creatures in your house and they are liable to run under your feet.) The mirror test seems to only gauge if the subject’s physical model is robust enough to properly map the external environment to self when faced with contradicting visual input. Nothing more.

Currently listening to Pink Floyd.

Tried to write haiku, failed when couldn’t count syllables. Is there a damn trick to this? The poem started with “the freaking kid”. Is “kid” two syllables or one? Can’t tell.

The kid behind me keeps kicking the seat. Freaking kid. He used to kick my neighbor’s seat, but then the neighbor said a few words to the parents. And now I get to put up with this nonsense. Such is life?

Started reading “Cryptonomicon” just now… What the feck? Did the kid just drop one? Certainly smells like it. I hate flying.
Anyway, started “Cryptonomicon”. Got to the part where Lawrence is having that strange dream while Turing gets an umlaut. Decided to pause. Don’t really care for the strange-dream portion of the book. Can’t wait for Randy’s introduction.

Tried to code a bit, but small lunch tray and the relative proximity of others’ elbows made this a “fail”. So now I get to plan what features my GPS logger app will have instead of actually coding it.

Coding’s more fun.

Listening to Bon Jovi right now. Will switch to Pink Floyd soon enough. Forrest was right, “Wish You Were Here” is a better album than “Dark Side of the Moon”. Though only in the “if I listen to a million and one albums, 500 thousand will be DSotM, 500 thousand and one will be WYWH” sense. Still.

Q:What’s worse than a kid kciking your seat?
A: A smelly kid kicking your seat.
Q: What’s worse than a smelly kid kicking your seat?
A: A smelly, crying kid kicking your seat.

Should be in Chicago in twenty minutes. Rather “should have been”. Or “should have be”? What the hell is the tense form for a late flight?


Found this amazing Flickr user, Deborah Chen, through a random search: was looking for “bionic bunny”, stumbled on some of her photos. Great photos, excellent composition, interesting colors, beautiful models (photographer herself included, of course). Just about the only gripe I have with her work (aside from wishing I could do something similar) is that sometimes the 1970’s-coloring is overdone. Here’s an example of where I think it’s appropriate, Argonaut, and here’s one where I think the photo was fine without the effect, Castro.

PostSecret for 9/13/2009

stay_smallerI wish I was there for my cat.

mousepoop_smallerAlright! Good for you!

Get Fuzzy

The brilliance that is Get Fuzzy is sometimes hard to describe to the non-believers. Below is a comic that shouldn’t need much explanation. Sunday edition comics are large, so click for the full image.


Random thought

There is no such thing as “life”. If we’re looking for anything in this universe, it should be beauty. Possibly more on this topic later.


Well, anyway, enough internet for this morning, laundry’s done, I can finally go get some dim sum and read.

Currently listening to: Gomez, “Bring It On: 10th Anniversary Collector’s Edition”.

Currently reading: “The Dreaming Void”, by Peter F. Hamilton

Just three post-cards to examine today.


Well, if you’re gonna believe in God, might as well believe in one who sounds like freaking Liam Neeson. Personally, I might have also tried Sean Connery, James Mason or Jeremy Irons, but yeah, it essentially has to be someone with a British-like accent. Ooh, I almost forgot: Alan Rickman.


OK, that’s just… fucked up. I’ve heard of lots of messed up things that happen to kids, and this mind-fuck is seriously weird. I’ve got no idea why they did this (and trust me, I’ve been contemplating theories since last night), but I’d just like to slap this guy’s parents around like two pinatas.


A popular motif, where one of the partners is going to leave just as soon as the kids are gone, all someone cheats, or they’re ready for it economically. I wish them the best of luck, of course. Whatever it takes to be happy, right?

Currently listening to: Led Zepellin‘s “Stairway to Heaven“, “Whole Lotta Love” and “What Is And What Should Never Be” and of course Pink Floyd:

A Lester Burnham Momentâ„¢ is one that is that is epitomized by this quote, spoken by Lester himself:

It’s a great thing when you realize you still have the ability to surprise yourself.

An un-Lester Burnham Moment is similar, in that you do surprise yourself, but it’s not great at all.

For instance: the day is going along splendidly, you’re happy, not a care in the world, take a long lunch, go pick up some kittens in the afternoon, enjoy the sunny weather, etc. Then, on the way home, you have an un-Lester Burnham Moment, and you’re surprised that you’re still blah blah blah. And suddenly the thought of driving your car at 70 MPH into a wall seems like a great idea. And you realize that you’re incredibly pissed about this surprising you. And then you remember that if it wasn’t for buying that damn condo, you could be in Japan now, or California, or somewhere on the East Coast, basically as fucking far away from Washington as possible. And you think that, if nothing else, getting away from Redmond could make you happy. And that’s what ends up coloring a perfectly good Wednesday.

But then you have a few beers, watch an episode of House, vent on the internet and realize that life isn’t too bad. It just has its ups and downs, and the kill-me-now moments, and the wonderfully peaceful lulls, and the indescribable pangs of pain…

…and then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life…

Cheesecake and ketchup. Lobster and caramel. Eminem and Elton John. Cartman and Urkel. Two great things that are amazing on their own, but suck when they are taken together.

Beer and vicodin are like that: first, they’re great and you’re thinking to yourself “wow, this is the highest I’ve ever been legally”. But then, in a few hours and the following morning, when your head is splitting from a killer hang-over, you’ve just got one thing on your mind: “FUCK, that was a mistake. Good thing I didn’t sign her public key.”.

But then you take a number of Excedrin, go back to sleep for a few hours and wake up perfectly refreshed.

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