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Most interesting is the rigging! This suspention reduces flopping about as the whole thing would have to lift and spin to tip sideways. Ingenious! Although, a very old idea...

Yup! They do it too! ... of course not x10 specifically, but still cool. What is nice is using video through the view finder (or close thereof) to get better still photos from the camera on the rig.

Those along waterfronts know that daily patterns of onshore and offshore breezes can aid in getting good wind.

Brooks Leffler pioneered the art with a magazine (!!!) that he still has back issues of. He even sells stabilizing tails. The most stunning pictures in my opinion have been by the vastly-experienced Chris Benton... he inspired my finally getting into this. $100 for the kite, $80 for the camera, $100 radio+misc, and you're up and going.

Those along waterfronts know that daily patterns of onshore and offshore breezes can aid in getting good wind.

Brooks Leffler pioneered the art with a magazine (!!!) that he still has back issues of. He even sells stabilizing tails. The most stunning pictures in my opinion have been by the vastly-experienced Chris Benton... he inspired my finally getting into this. $100 for the kite, $80 for the camera, $100 radio+misc, and you're up and going.

Raymond and Meg waited anxiously for over an hour while the doctors rushed to save Patrick's life. Pacing the waiting room, Raymond did most of the talking while Meg listened. She played with her hair nervously and fidgeted with her clothes, but commented often enough to indicate that she was listening. He knew he was speaking nonsense, but if he didn't keep talking, keep pacing, he knew he would go crazy with worry. Several times, he wandered down the hall for more coffee.

He had been as excited about taking on this assignment as Patrick had been but now more than anything he wished they hadn't bought that issue of the Atlanta Review and hadn't read the article written by Margaret K. Miller.

The police had arrived at the Sheffield residence about fifteen minutes after the ambulance and paramedics. Charles Sheffield, after being treated for a mile concussion, had been arrested and was currently being detained at the county jail. Although extremely tired, Raymond was too preoccupied with the possibility that his friend might die to allow himself to rest.

He did not tell Meg that he was overwhelmed with guilt. Why had he left the house? he should have went for a walk with Meg and Sam. Then he would have been there when Sheffield showed up--and he could have come to his friend's defense. How could he ever forgive himself if Patrick died?

Finally, Doctor Egan, came out to talk with them, stopping Raymond's internal chastisement, at least temporarily.

"How is he?" Raymond asked through trembling lips. Meg stood to stand, arms nervously folded across her chest, and hear the news.

"He's slipped into a coma," Doctor Egan replied. "It may be quite some time before he regains consciousness."

"If he ever does?"

Hesitantly, the doctor nodded. "The arm needed twelve stitches. He lost a lot of blood, but he's undergoing a blood transfusion which should take about another thirty minutes."

"What about any possible brain damage?" Meg asked.

"It's too early to tell the extent of any lost brain functions, but his EEG came out normal. Our main concern is his windpipe, which was nearly crushed, and at this point, we don't even know whether or not he'll be able to talk ever again. We will know more when we have the chance to thoroughly examine the results of the tests. I've placed him in ICU. His condition will be constantly monitored. Do you know who did this to him?"

"Yes. It was the owner of the house in which we were staying in. He was furious, because he believed we were trying to break up him and his wife."

"Is there any truth to that?"

"None whatsoever."

"I helped his wife get a job," Meg informed the doctor. Charles Sheffield saw that as a threat. I don't know what decade he's living in, but in the nineties, it's acceptable for wives to work and in many cases, necessary."

"What were you doing in his house?"

Flustered, Raymond looked away from the doctor and stared out the window. "Well, it'd be a little difficult to explain."

"I don't have any right to pressure you for an answer, but whatever it is you best think it over thoroughly. Sheriff Yeltsin will be by shortly to take a full statement from the both of you. I hope you plan to cooperate with him," Doctor Egan continued. He sighed heavily, obviously perturbed by the incident. "Does Mr. Marland have any family I can call?"

"His mother is still living, and he has a younger sister. Ah. . .I believe you'll find their numbers in his billfold."

The doctor nodded and left the room.

Raymond returned to his pacing, wondering if the police were now informing Lisanne Sheffield that her husband had attempted murder.

About forty-five minutes later, a nurse approached them to let them know that they could see Patrick for a few minutes. Anxiously, they followed the nurse down the corridor to ICU.

Raymond had heard and understood Doctor Egan, and yet he was not fully prepared for the sight of his friend with all sorts of machinery hooked up to keep him alive. Patrick appeared lifeless, despite that the machine monitoring his heartbeat and another showing his EEG patterns, were giving out near-normal readings.

A nurse, hovering in the doorway, watched as Raymond clutched Patrick's hand and silently prayed. When he was done, she said, "Two more minutes, Mr. Steele."

He nodded without looking up at her. Not letting go of his friend's hand, he prayed that Patrick would return his grasp.

Returning to the waiting area, Meg and Raymond sat down with another cup of coffee, and closed his eyes. The image of his friend lying helpless in the hospital bed would not leave him alone.

"Excuse me," a man said and Raymond and Meg looked up to see a heavy set man with a badge, which read Sheriff Yeltsin, pinned to his jacket. "Are you Raymond Steele?"

"Yes," Raymond answered hoarsely.

"And you are Meg Miller?" Meg nodded.

"I need to talk to the both of you one at a time. Ma'am if you don't mind, I need to ask you to step out of the room for a while."

"I think I'll go browse the gift shop for a while," Meg offered before leaving.

"Do you mind if I sit down beside you?" the sheriff asked. Raymond shook his head and the sheriff took his seat. "I'm really sorry about your friend, but I must ask you a few questions. When we questioned Charles Sheffield he told us that you and Patrick Marland were staying in their home, but they wouldn't say why. Can you explain what happened?"

"I'm not sure I can, but I'll try. Charles Sheffield believed that Patrick and Meg were trying to convince his wife to leave him. Meg went to visit Lisanne at their hotel room once, because she was worried about her. She didn't like the way Sheffield was treating her."

"How was that?"

"He was overly protective like he wouldn't let her out of his sight. So Meg went to talk with Lisanne, because she thought if there was any real trouble going on in their marriage, maybe Lisanne would open up to another woman. Meg found out that Lisanne wanted to get a job, but Charles strongly discouraged it. Meg convinced her to stand up for herself. It was quite incredible really that Lisanne found the perfect job right away. Meg went to visit her there at the plant shop, and Lisanne was happy there. I don't understand why any man would object to his wife finding a job that she really enjoys to occupy her time."

"I agree with you. My wife has been a member of the workforce for the past twelve years. As hard as it is for you or I to understand, many men during the fifties and earlier thought a woman's place was in the home doing the housework and taking care of the kids. Unfortunately, even in the nineties there are a few men left of that school."

"There is no excuse for that!"

"And you believe this is the only reason he attempted to kill Patrick Marland? Raymond nodded. "Why him? It sounds as though Meg Miller was the main one involved here."

"I'm not an expert on criminal motivation, Sheriff. I can only guess that he attacked patrick, because he saw patrick as the one in charge of our operation. Besides, maybe it all fit in with Sheffields' warped idea of male domination. He could have been thinking that Patrick was responsible for Meg's actions because he didn't keep her on a tight enough leash."

"Okay. That's a fair answer. You still haven't told me why Sheffield allowed you in his house. You did, however, let it slip that the Sheffields were staying in a hotel room. Just why was that?"

Raymond grappled for a moment between ideas of telling the sheriff lies, partial truths or the whole truth. Eventually his moral values won out. "The Sheffields hired Patrick and I to investigate a series of unexplainable events, which they believed could only be the direct result of a haunting."

"Ghosts?" Yeltsin questioned skeptically.

"Yes, and Patrick and I concurred. There is a substantial amount of spectral activity occurring in their home."

"I see." His tone was still quite dubious.

Mr. Sheffield wanted Patrick and I to monitor his house for any unusual activity. And whether you believe it or not, we did witness things that could only have a supernatural explanation."

"Let me guess, you boys think you have some psychic connection with the afterworld."

"It's the truth," Raymond replied adamantly. "I have proof on video tape. There were two ghosts in that house, Ben and Karen Simms." He paused, beginning to cry, quiet, uncontrollable sobs.

Yeltsin placed a reassuring arm around Raymond. "I know how difficult this must be for you. Take a moment to catch your breath."

"I'm sorry," Raymond apologized several seconds later. "I've been trying so hard to remain calm, so I can make it through this night. "I never thought anything like this would happen."

"Did you witness Charles Sheffield attack your friend?"

"No. I was out for a drive. I didn't return until he had hung Patrick, and Meg had knocked Sheffield unconscious with a liquor bottle."

"I see, then I'll ask for specific details from her. You aren't planning to leave this town any time soon, are you?"

"No!" Raymond snapped. He intellectually understood why the Sheriff had asked the question, but it still sounded absurd. The thought of leaving his friend's side when Patrick was fighting death never crossed his mind. "I'm sorry," he said in a quieter tone. "It's just that I'm so worried about my friend. You have to understand that I'd do anything to help him."

"Of course, I do. I hope your friend pulls through. If you'll excuse me, I need to speak with your friend now." The Sheriff tapped Raymond reassuringly on the shoulder before standing up and walking away.

* * *

Al exited the imaging chamber and rushed passed a startled Gooshi and into the room where Sam's body was kept. Though he prayed Sam had leaped out of Patrick, he feared that Sam was fighting for his life. Sam had met with danger enough times before, but never had he clung to life so tenuously.

Al could not see Sam. The team of doctor's on the Quantum Leap project were hovering over Doctor Beckett's body, attempting to revive him.

"How is he?" Al asked, wanting to touch his friend, but knowing he needed to keep his distance so the doctors could do their job. They'd already hooked up a electrocardiograph and were now checking for any signs of brain activity.

Dr. Beeks glanced at Al. "He's in a coma," she replied. "We'll know more in a couple of minutes."

Al placed his cigar in his mouth, but didn't puff on it. Instead, he let it hang, limp in his mouth as he watched helplessly while his friend fought to stay alive. He didn't know if Sam's soul was here in 1999 or back in the past with Patrick. But whenever the time traveler was, Al could not help him.

"We're not picking up any brain activity," one of the doctors exclaimed. "I think we're losing him."

No! Al screamed internally. This can't be happening! Sam was supposed to leap out to somewhere safe if his life was in danger. HE promised that to Patrick.

Gentle, feminine arms wrapped around Al's waist to comfort him, but he didn't turn to look at the woman. He couldn't look away from his friend.

"Al, I think you better get some rest," Tina said. "They won't stop trying, not until they've tried everything. You know that."

"I know that, but what if they try everything, and nothing works?" Finally, he did look at his lover. "I can't rest," he said. "I don't know what I can do, but I can't rest."

"Okay," Tina nodded, "I understand."

Shamelessly, Al broke into tears. "If he's really dead, then I have nothing left. My entire life for the past several years has revolved around Sam and the Quantum Leap project. I'm nothing without him. Nothing without Sam."

* * *

Before his leaps had always been instantaneous, but this leap seemed prolonged, almost has though he were hovering through not only time, but space as well. God, what is happening to me? he tried to scream, but could find neither the voice nor the body from which to propel the words. Had he destroyed the space-time continuum as he knew it?

Then somehow he suddenly knew where he was and why he was there. He needed to remain calm and rational, because wherever Patrick was, he now needed Sam's help. Their roles had reversed. It was time to return the favor, for Sam to play the guide.

For a long time, he remained in that strange void, floating . . .floating. . .

Until he heard a voice, indiscernible at first, but quickly growing louder. "Can anybody hear me?" Patrick asked in a frightened voice.

"Yes," Sam replied. "I'm right here beside you." He reached out to touch Patrick reassuringly, and Patrick flinched, obviously afraid of the darkness.

"But I can't see you!"

"Don't let that scare you. You're safe where you are."

"Where am I, then?"

"You're in between dimensions," Beckett answered. "God created this crevice where neither time nor space exists, to give us a chance to recover from our ordeal. When we are physically, emotionally, and spiritually prepared, we'll slip fully into a dimension."

"If we're here, in between dimensions, then we must be dead. We've failed!"

Sam had never experienced failure in a leap and had to admit that he had been starting to believe that he couldn't fail. This was a highly unusual circumstance--even for Quantum Leaping, he had to admit. It was riddled with contradictions and paradoxes. Somehow he now knew that they were meant to initially fail all along. . .so they could meet with an even bigger success.

"No, Patrick, I don't believe we're dead. I think we are in some type of coma-induced limbo. And we haven't even failed--not yet. There was a part of the equation that I don't think you considered--didn't even realize as a possibility. You assumed that you would have to be dead to crossover into other dimensions, so I did not even look for a near-death scenario. Now that it has occurred, and we realize the error--Patrick, we have to examine why it is a positive turnabout that we met with partial failed in our dimension."

"It is my failure, because I am the more experienced psychic. I was supposed to guide you and prepare you for any possible outcome. In that, I failed."

"That only proves you're human--like the rest of us," Sam said in a warm tone. "I understand why God allowed you to slip into a coma and for us to get stuck in this limbo. We met with partial failure, because he needs you to live out those other lives. As painful as it will be, it is your destiny to help each of those worlds begin to make positive changes. In a way, it's a lot like my leaping from lifetime to lifetime putting right what once went wrong. You will remember everything, not from life to life, but if you succeed--when you return to your life as Patrick Marland. The knowledge will aid me in my life's primary mission--writing. Who knows maybe a Pulitzer Prize is part of your destiny after all."

"I'm scared," Patrick said, shaking violently. Sam placed reassuring arms around the other man. They remained that way for a long time, with Patrick crying softly into Sam's chest.

Sam had no sense of time, but he imagined that hours passed. Sometimes, he and Patrick spoke, while at other times they spent long moments in silence. Eventually, Sam felt something tugging at him and realized he was being taken to a different time--and place.

He felt a strong pull forcing him inside another host. Who am I? he wondered, oddly sensing Patrick's aura nearby as though he were still one with the psychic.

He tried to move, discovering that his limbs were strapped securely to a spit. He wiggled his hands to loosen the rope, but it wouldn't budge. He moaned as unbearable pain rose from his abdomen. He realized it was a lot like he felt after Thanksgiving dinner--only a lot worse. After he overcame his initial shock, Sam realized that there was a tube, pumping a yellow-brown liquid, running down his throat. He started to gag and his throat swelled around the tube, cutting of his air supply. I'm going to die, Sam thought.

A tall man, nearly seven feet tall rushed up to Sam, and sticking his fingers in Sam's mouth, forcefully reopened the victim's air passageway. Chuckling, he gestured toward another man, who eagerly joined him. The first man licked his lips and chuckled again, a laugh that seemed to carry with the wind for miles. Through the corner of his eye, Sam could see a huge pot with a blazing fire underneath. He had the sinking feeling that that pot was meant for him. Oh God, they're cannibals! he screamed internally. He suddenly remembered what he had read in Patrick's journal. This was supposed to be Patrick's destiny. Not mine! Not mine!

As the men grabbed either end of the spit and lifted it, Sam bizarrely felt eager for the boiling pot, wanted to experience the agonizing death. Before they reached the pot, however, the flashing blue light hurdled him into his next host and out of danger.

"Oh boy," he exclaimed as he realized he was now the tall man, carrying the victim to the boiling pot. The thought of watching someone boil to death revolted him, but he didn't dare stop. What would the other cannibals think? More importantly, what would they do if he refused to participate in their ritual? Besides, he knew this destiny had to be carried out no matter how torturous it was for him or Patrick. He had to continually remind himself that it was for the good of this world. Although at the moment, he couldn't see how.

"Be careful," a woman exclaimed. "If you drop it, you'll contaminate the meat!"

Sam glanced in her direction, trying not to show his disgust. He wished Al would show up with some advice or that he would leap again. He was in another dimension, one where time passed at an accelerated rate compared to his world. Al probably couldn't find him, probably couldn't travel to this world even if he could find Sam. Worse, Al probably thought he was dead. Upon arriving into the void, he had realized that Patrick, in their world, had slipped into a coma. Now he wondered if he had also slipped into a coma so he could enter into this dimension.

"If you don't cook the meat soon, sire," a man piped up. "I shall start an entreaty to have you denounced as head."

The crowd began chanting, a low almost inaudible verbiage. Sam's nerves rang with deja vu as he remembered the eery vision he'd had on the landing.

He tried to will himself to bring the victim's body closer to the boiling water. He stared into the pot and thought of lobsters screaming as they were being cooked alive and knowing this would be ten times worse. "I can't," he tried to say, but before the words were fully expelled, he leaped yet again.

This time, into a small child watching the ritual assassination from a distance. He tried to hide his eyes in the skirt of a woman who must have been the boy's mother, but the mother reached down, tilting his head away from her skirt and slapped him briskly across the cheek.

"You'll watch," she said, "and you'll enjoy every succulent moment of it."

He watched, barely controlling the urge to vomit, as the victim screamed in agony. Sam struggled to break free from the woman's grasp, but she held on firmly. A moment later, he escaped when the pulling of the leap stole him from her and the cannibals' world.

However, around six months ago I read a horiffic account of her six years in the North Korean prison system by a woman named Soon Ok-Lee and I was so appaled and so angry that something like this could go on on this planet that I suddenly became very interested in North Korea. I have a lot I'd like to share, so please forgive me if this post is quite 'information dense'.

First, I'd encourage all of you to read Ms. Lee's account. There is a condensed version of it at this URL (caution, not for children.. it may even give you adults nightmares..)

US Senate Testimony of Ms. Soon Ok Lee North Korean prison camp survivor

There are many other defector testimonies available too. They make fascinating if chilling reading, as does anything having to do with North Korea. All I can say is that North Korea is an enigma of sorts. An entire country operated like a cult. It is a cult in which to question the insane narcissistic ruler Kim Jong-Il is often to die. You dont believe me? Read her story!

Which brings me to the reason why I am posting. Kim Jong-Il's hold on North Korea, I think, is fragile. It depends on a very tight "blockade on information' coming in to the country. Can Slashdot readers think of any way to get news of the outside into North Korea ? Because if we could.. we could rid the world of a madman comparable to PolPot or Hitler or Stalin..

For some background on NK's techniques of control, read the following:

The Official Propaganda In The DPRK: Ideas And Methods

The Repressive System And The Political Control In North Korea

Here are some other resources: Two other defectors stories..

http://monthly.chosun.com/html/200201/200201280001 _1.html

http://monthly.chosun.com/html/200006/200006130003 _1.html

NK Human Rights website

North Korea's strategy

Anyway, please check them out, and please do something for human rights in North Korea today. They are human beings like ourselves and they are suffering.

I daresay that any of us outspoken geeks who found ourself suddenly transplanted into North Korea would soon find ourself in the position Ms. Lee. found herself in. Except that she lived and we would die for that ill-considered remark. She was one of the only people to ever be released from an NK death camp. She risked (and is risking) her life to tell her story.. Maybe we can help in some way.. Breaking the blockade of information coming into North Korea would help destabilize Kim Jong-Il. With all the technology available to the West, there has to be away.. And it would be nonviolent, since eventually HIS OWN PEOPLE would kill him..

He is one of the most evil people who have ever lived. Dont fall for the lies.. He is fooling so many people... he will never 'open up' he is afraid the world would find out about his crimes and NK's 'killing fields'. It is all an act. A lie.

One idea I had was to float toilet paper into North Korea on leaky balloons.. Most North Koreans have never seen toilet paper. Lets show them that the rest of the world is not trying to kill them. We want to help free them.

I'm one of them. And you know what: I don't care. Here's why:

Music is our birthright. It has been around for far longer than any of us have. Every culture has developed their own music, often very unique and distinctive. It is a human heritage we should be proud of, music can inspire and influence many emotions and express our dreams and fears. It joins people together in a common bond that we all enjoy.

In the past 100 years, technology has been developed to deliver pre-recorded music. From these inventions an entire industry has grown. The term "record label" comes from the fact that artists would go to the labels (who had the required equipment) to get their music cut to vinyl. The label would then reproduce the record and give the artist a good cut of the profits. The "label" attached indicated who had produced the record.

Fast forward to the 60s. Pre-recorded music is getting very popular, e.g. The Beatles. Live musical performances are becoming rarer as alternatives to live music are becoming cheaper and more accepted into society.

As the labels gain more and more power over the next 30 years, they start to realise that they have a large influence in what people listen to. Shops begin to be forced to promote certain albums with threats like "sure, you can sell this, but you must also sell this other product in a prominent place in your store". Eventually radio is given the same blow, the stations begin to lose control of what they can play. Currently, Clear Channel control/own an unbelievable chunk of the radio market. You can't play their music unless you stick to their rules. You can't have your music played on their stations unless you paid them. When was the last time you heard a discussion or even the mention of p2p technology on commercial radio?

This control of the market leads to the "industry" we have today. There are only 7 companies that control almost all of the media you can access. Everything is controlled and managed. Have you ever listened to the radio to hear a song from an artist that you haven't heard from in a while, only to find that they have new material that gets announced a few days/weeks later? That's them at work, playing the older stuff to get you ready for the marketing.

Over the past 40 years, the profits to be made are staggering. CDs are incredibly cheap to manufacture, yet they are able to price-fix the market due to their control. This control of the industry keeps the small acts and labels (indies) down. Even the current "indies" in the "charts" are owned by the large companies and them using that name is an affront to what it means and stands for. The true indies are still there, but only a select few people ever hear about them, mostly through word of mouth. When was the last time you went to a record store and listened to music from an act you haven't heard of before?

In the past few years, things have only gotten worse. The Billboard charts is a catalogue of music for you to buy, nothing more. The acts that consistently make it are the same old drivel; bubble-gum pop for the masses. Yet, the makeup of these charts comes from sales and radio play. Limiting the data sources to only stick to major retailers that are already under control controls the "sales". The radio play is also very controlled as we have already seen. What sort of a system is that to run a popularity chart? A fixed and corrupt one.

What really gets to me the most however, is the fact that the artists get a ridiculously small cut of these revenues. They get tied into disgraceful contracts that control everything they do for years, and when it's over the industry, not the artists, own the rights to their work. Artists only really get rich through touring, that's where their profit lies. Many acts have had major hits/albums and ended up very poor or even owing the record labels money.

Over the past few years, technology has advanced to the point that anyone can easily record, promote and distribute music. This scares the music industry more than the loss of sales through piracy. Internet radio has turned people onto acts that they would have never heard of had they limited themselves to traditional media. My own personal tastes in music have evolved completely away from the commercial music out there. My hatred of the industry came long after I "abandoned" it, my tastes merely evolved based on what I have access to. They have now lost a customer. Me.

Every time you download a song instead of buying it, you are contributing to the downfall of this bastardisation of an industry. It interests me that they once compared p2p to "downloading communism". Cold War politics and the lack of understanding of the difference between Soviet totalitarism and true communism aside, the only thing that sounds like the negative impression they are trying to convey on p2p is ironically their own control of the industry. Downloading music is a statement against it. If the legal/moral issues bother you, don't download from the major labels. Get yourself onto Shoutcast Internet Radio and start listening to the genres that interest you. Grab a pen while you are at it and note down the names of the acts you like. Download some of their songs to see if you like them. If you do, support them by buying albums, merchandise and live performances. Especially the live performances.

But don't buy Brittany because it's "cool". It's not, your just following the rest of the sheep and "cool" is never defined by following other people. Even the "alternative" scenes, like the gothic Marylyn Manson culture is merely an extension of this market, but the kids into it believe they are expressing their individualism by dressing like each other and listening to the same music as each other!

A few companies should not be allowed to dominate the development of one of the most creative fruits of human culture. They should not be allowed to bribe government (what else are "campaign contributions"?) into making laws that protect their backward and repressive business models. Civil disobedience is a valid way to protest laws you don't agree with, as long you don't cause harm to others. It is technically impossible to stop p2p without complete centralised control and censorship of every single person in the worlds internet access. That is never going to happen. Anyone that doesn't get that belongs in the past like the dinosaurs they are. Where would we be today if the railroads had halted the development of the aeroplane because it harms their business model? Don't let the music industry do this to something as important as music. Please. Think of the children.

I had to go look up what the heck "Duchamp's ready-mades" meant, and I assume I'm not alone. here is a link rodentia forgot to dig up.

wanted: stupid G.W. Bush quote

Oh you mean like this: Do not rotate?

Labor strikes used to be broken up with armed troops

This is true, but misleading. This makes it sound like the strikers were being forced at gunpoint to return to work. They were not. The troops were used to protect workers (or "scabs") who were hired to replace the striking worker. It was common practice in the late 19th century and early 20th centuries for striking workers to physically assault the scabs, or even to seize the factory by force and refuse to allow anyone else in.

Sources:
http://www.detroit300.org/detroit300curriculum/dl_ pdf/D/D6.pdf
http://www.labornet.org/viewpoints/meister/sitdown .html
http://www.fortunecity.com/tinpan/parton/2/casey.h tml
http://sunsite.berkeley.edu/London/Writings/WarOfT heClasses/scab.html

I realize that a thrill for everyone '80s related is quite now quite common (look at the MAME craze), but really, getting excited about the DDR? What, do these fans drive Trabants and Wartburgs while singing Die Partei hat immer Recht?

Visio already runs under WINE, along with the rest of MS office. I don't use it (native Linux apps meet my needs), but I did install it for just such a question :-)

Oracle, ODBC and DB2 Template Library

I've used it many times in the past (talking to Oracle, MS Access, SQL Server, etc).

Actually the problem is our SPELLING SYSTEM, which boggles the mind. We have far too many symbols for a much smaller number of sounds.

I have a blog novel, Check it out

This page says that Solitaire was included already in Windows 3.0 which was released in May 1990.

Don't bother. Nick butchered the origninal episodes and neutered the new ones they made to fit into their kiddie vision. You can read about the whole story of how it happened here (at least as long as the bandwidth holds out). Or you can try to find the same story in pages of links (or cached) from Google

My point got across....my spelling isn't perfect.

My apologies go out to all the english majors who find my last post offensive.

Blame it on the Ritalin.

Remove blade, perform seppuku.

We also haven't heard your opinion on the televised Star Wars Holiday special.

Is (2^2^22)+1 composite or prime?

At the time this was computed it was the longest computation ever performed for a 1-bit answer (roughly as intensive as rendering a full-length Pixar film).

Site contains a link to Indiana Jones fan fiction disguised under the heading "the greatest game of all time."

My eyes! It buuuurns!

Jodie Shaw

Ever since the 9/11 I have seen more and more sigs and posts indication Christian affiliation. This can be nothing but a backslash against the perceived threat of another major religion. GWBs "crusade" talk and simplistic "good and evil" mindset hasn't helped either.

This trend must be stopped now! Support your local freethinkers!

"I don't know that Atheists should be considered as citizens, nor should they be considered patriots. This is one nation under God." -George Bush

Sorry but, this is "on topic" (in a round about sort of way. They mentioned Natalie Portman. I started thinking about her perky nipples in Episode 2. And, so I'm posting a picture of her topless: http://members.fortunecity.com/oops59/natalie_port man2301003.jpg Enjoy!

that getting a fake tan was so complicated.

Now I know how Wonko the sane felt

Hello. I have an idea on my shelf for a one-hand qwerty replacement keyboard. I thought it up back in early 2001. It resembles MessageEase in a way, but I prefer my idea to theirs. I think it has the potential to "change everything" - not to be dramatic. Problem is, I don't know how to proceed. I don't have the money or connections to get a protoype manufactured. I do, however have a half-completed prototype I've been working on out of some disassembled QWERTY keyboards. If any of you would like to take this idea and run with it, or have any ideas of how I can make this a reality, please let me know. My name is Steven Shultz I can be reached at 2e@2e.org I put up this site back in April 2001. Since then I've developed a new, more efficient (in my opinion) key layout, but the overall look is the same.

The following is taken from http://bennyhills.fortunecity.com/hardy/203/nonbel iever/page50.html . I don't know if it's valid or not.

When George Bush was campaigning for the presidency, as incumbent vice president, one of his stops was in Chicago, Illinois, on August 27, 1987. At O'Hare Airport he held a formal outdoor news conference. There Robert I. Sherman, a reporter for the American Atheist news journal, fully accredited by the state of Illinois and by invitation a participating member of the press corps covering the national candidates had the following exchange with then Vice President Bush.

Sherman: Surely you recognize the equal citizenship and patriotism of Americans who are Atheists?

Bush: No, I don't know that Atheists should be considered as citizens, nor should they be considered patriots. This is one nation under God.

I would certainly be interested if you can substantiate that claim about MS-DOS. In a little googling all I could come up with was Microsoft Xenix on 68000 at

You're right that portable OSes have assembly in them. But portable software must be built portable from the start, so that for example the application programmer is shielded from directly calling those assembly routines. MS-DOS was never built with portability as a consideration. Portability would not be possible without emulation.

Because, yeah, you couldn't change it before. Yeah.

Second, imagine some radical group in the US. posting instructions on how to hijack some planes and fly them into skyscrapers on the internet. Don't you think your FBI would shut these sites down as soon as words gets out? There goes your "free speech"... q.e.d.

The really funny thing is that this is all documented very well in any number of books at your local public library, like The Running Man (for the crashing) and various other true and fictional books to describe how to do the hijacking itself. The average American has seen plenty of movies that involve airplane hijackings; figuring out how to do it yourself (note: this is not something I'm advocating here) would not be that difficult. Especially if you don't even use guns to do it.

In the U.S. you can still buy The Anarchist's Cookbook even! But you may have to go to court to defend that right, just like xs4all is in this case. So there is no absolute freedom of speech without at least the money to back it up.

Actually, there's a patch that lets it work in win2k. Highly unofficial, but it works.
Find it here:
Patch Link
I liked this game so much I mail-ordered it from some offshore corporation or something. Screw Blizzard, this is MUCH better. Because it has no less then THREE different elf races, hehe.

OK so I'm posting this far to late to get it modded up, but anyway....

For those of us Pocket PC owners who've seen that it's been ported to Palm and are upset with the lack of a PocketPC version, well there is one!!:

Nethack 3.3.1 for Windows (98/NT/2000/CE)

This kicks ass! Handheld support for ARM, MIPS, and SH3, good job Alex!

For more general PocketPC gaming news, check out Pocket Gamer

As for other cool retro stuff for the Pocket PC, check this out: FreeCiv port of Pocket PC, not yet released but coming soon hopefully. Here are a few screenshots to keep you going 'til they give us something to download (watch out for the popups though)

Happy gaming,

ManxStef

Dude, you've never seen that GIF with the Budweiser chicks? It's a classic.

Today it's Sokoban... beware, for before you know it it'll be Elite.

Nope. Actually it fell 9th of November 1989. Which the Americans write 11/9, and the Europeans 9/11 (Europeans write the day before the month).

Some years ago, I read about a kid who built a neutron gun out of the Americium from smoke detectors. Here is a link to the story.

What is Traumatic Masturbatory Syndrome?

Although purists cast disdain upon the 'disposable' series *Sailor Moon*, I am nevertheless a fan and found it actually quite fascinating to see how the show had been edited to be suitable for the Western teenybopper demographic.

There's a lot of latent sexual subtext (homoerotic or otherwise) which is glossed over in the NA dubbing. For example one of the villains, Zoesite (sic), who is actually an effeminate male in the Japanese version, is presented (and dubbed correspondingly) as a female, in the NA dubbing. Similarly, when in civilian clothes, Sailor Uranus seems to be an effeminate man in love with Sailor Neptune. In costume she's female. The ambiguity isn't really dealt with.

As well, there are occasional violent scenes which are cut out or slightly abbreviated. Presumably this is not judged suitable for the desired NA demographic.

But you can still catch the odd scene or bit of dialog that's left in where you say to yourself, "what?!" That is, the sexuality of the characters is somewhat ambiguous.

While I'm on the topic of ambiguous sexuality in anime, this site has some brief overviews of homosexuality and transgenderism (don't know if that's a word, but you know what I mean) in anime.

I want these. I already have the Gnomes of Zurich and the Shriners. Soon my hierachy will be complete, oh yes.

Don't worry, there are not links to Goatse

Here are many more interesting Microsoft bashing articles for your enjoyment:

1
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8

And here is an article that asks if Microsoft-bashing good for you.

I used to look down on Christmas, until I realized that Santa (the Coca Cola Santa, that is) had nothing to do with the traditional Christmas. I've come to appreciate Christmas as an excuse for generosity and fellowship, but I will never be reconciled with the selfishness and wastefulness the fat idiot in the trademark red suit represents.

So I think a couple of quotes are in order. First, some dialog from Buffy:

Willow: Santa always passes me by. Something puts him off. Could be the big honkin' menorah.
Tara: Oh, did you write him a letter?
Xander: What'd you ask for?
Dawn: Um, guys? Hello? Puberty? Sorta figured out the whole "No Santa" thing.
Anya: That's a myth.
Dawn: Yeah.
Anya: No, I mean, it's a myth that it's a myth. There is a Santa Claus.
Xander: The advantage of having a thousand-year-old girlfriend. Inside scoop.
Tara: There's a Santa Claus?
Anya: Mm-hmm. Been around since, like, the 1500s. He wasn't always called Santa, but you know, Christmas night, flying reindeer, coming down the chimney -- all true.
Dawn: All true?
Anya: Well, he doesn't traditionally bring presents so much as, you know, disemboweled children, but otherwise...
Tara: The reindeer part was nice.

..is that they recommend to do all this "...with free implementations of win32 (Wine)...".

This is plainly hilarious.

I know that cygwin will compile under Wine. But using it under Wine to run dpkg ... the idea is just beyond my mind!

Let me quote the whole parragraph:

This port is meant to run on any win32 implementation. Some win32
implementations are free (wine, reactos), others are not (microsoft).
free implementations are of course recommended and cygwin is proven
to work fine on wine.

Who had the idea in the first place? Terry Gillian? Pratchet? Benny Hill? Jay Leno? Chiquito de la Calzada?

Who's to say? The government; of course. Let congress make a new EPA, the Excellent Programming Agency, staff it with the unemployable embarrasing nephews of congresscritters and lobbyists, and turn our entire industry over to them.

Let's just go ahead and give them sidearms so they don't have to waste time with all that outmoded "due process" crap in fulfilling their duties. (Yes, the EPA does have armed agents.)

Perhaps we can just throw this in under "Homeland Security"; after all, anyone (without buckets of cash to hand) trying to profit from shoddily engineered software is surely a terrorist, or at least as bad as one, not?

Well, kinda. Back in the late 80s/early 90s, Primus fans used the term "sucks" in an ironic fashion. It was kind of an inside joke -- ie, Primus fans would have bumper stickers that said "PRIMUS SUCKS", t-shirts etc. It was a heavily sarcastic way of showing your fanness, typical of the early 90's rejection of corporate culture (grunge, etc.-- Ah, take a moment to remember the glory days before all TV and advertising was wry and tongue-in-cheek and corporate marketers didn't know how to handle "Generation X".)

Seeing as it was originally a joke slogan meant to confuse non-"true" Primus fans, it makes no sense to use it as an example of how the general public might get confused-- that was the whole point!

W

For "Lurking Horror," warez won't do you any good. You'll need a login/password from the documentation just to get out of the first room. I recommend BUYING a copy. Sources have been compiled here.

This guy did it as a project. And This guy apparently felt his effort was worth a web-photo album about his computer "Woody".

I also remember reading an article in Wired a couple of years ago about a company that was doing high end PC's what were encased in mahogany and teak and other stuff like that, but I can't find the company now. I gues it's for the executive who has everything and doesn't actually need anything.

Honestly, I think making a computer case out of clay, adobe or ceramics might be better and cheaper. Additionally, there would be a reduced fire hazard and the materials are available onsite. I also think Paper Mache might be good for laptops (weight, you know). Of course, you'd have to have a KILLER fan to keep it from bursting into flames and you'd most certainly have to keep it out of the rain, but there you go.

Google found this name along side "spam" quite quickly.

Link: Pamela.net Spammer - Mark Joyner