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Please mod parent up. See Known Elephant

The following data was taken by my Magellan Sportrak Map while geocaching in Rock Rimmon State forest, superimposed on google maps. It shows the drive there, the walk in the woods, and part of the drive back.

http://throb.netspace.org/~bperk/demo.html

The data on the drive was better than I expected. I think the trees prevented the data from being as good on the hike, though you can see the clearing at the top of the hill near the cache in the satellite image (near Long Pond).

This would indicate to me that the data from this ~$200 GPS would be usable for some fairly decent mapping without an external computer. Since the track memory is limited to 2000 points you'd need to download from time to time.

Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary,
System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor,
Longing for the warmth of bed sheets, still I sat there doing spreadsheets.
Having reached the bottom line I took a floppy from the drawer,
I then invoked the SAVE command and waited for the disk to store,
Only this and nothing more.

Deep into the monitor peering, long I sat there wond'ring, fearing,
Doubting, while the disk kept churning, turning yet to churn some more.
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token.
"Save!" I said, "You cursed mother! Save my data from before!"
One thing did the phosphors answer, only this and nothing more,
Just, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

Was this some occult illusion, some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices undesired, ones I'd never faced before.
Carefully I weighed the choices as the disk made impish noises.
The cursor flashed, insistent, waiting, baiting me to type some more.
Clearly I must press a key, choosing one and nothing more,
From "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

With fingers pale and trembling, slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,
Praying for some guarantee, timidly, I pressed a key.
But on the screen there still persisted words appearing as before.
Ghastly grim they blinked and taunted, haunted, as my patience wore,
Saying "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

I tried to catch the chips off guard, and pressed again, but twice as hard.
I pleaded with the cursed machine: I begged and cried and then I swore.
Now in mighty desperation, trying random combinations,
Still there came the incantation, just as senseless as before.
Cursor blinking, angrily winking, blinking nonsense as before.
Reading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

There I sat, distraught, exhausted, by my own machine accosted.
Getting up I turned away and paced across the office floor.
And then I saw a dreadful sight: a lightning bolt cut through the night.
A gasp of horror overtook me, shook me to my very core.
The lightning zapped my previous data, lost and gone forevermore.
Not even, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

To this day I do not know the place to which lost data go.
What demonic nether world us wrought where lost data will be stored,
Beyond the reach of mortal souls, beyond the ether, into black holes?
But sure as there's C, Pascal, Lotus, Ashton-Tate and more,
You will be one day be left to wander, lost on some Plutonian shore,
Pleading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

Many more nerdly songs, including festive holiday-related ones, are collected in The Internet Songbook .

A psych journal dedicated to "failed" experiments. With psi as the 'icon'. Is this some wierd cover p by the Corps and Mr. Bester. Where's Lyta Alexander when you need her?

Yeah, I do get it. Psi, Psych, Psychology. No coverup here.

Wait? Is that silent approach of the Black Helicopters?

flashhack.c

I have a script ~/bin/mozilla that I use to run mozilla which has:

#!/bin/sh

export LD_PRELOAD=/whereever/it/is/flashhack.so

/usr/local/bin/mozilla $@

Compiling instructions are in the file.

It just makes sure to do a nonblocking open if you open the file /dev/dsp

Totally hacky, I take no resposibilty for any nasty side effects.

The printf ("foo!\n") is there purly for aesthetic reasons.:)

The Penguin

-Karl
---------------

... and I couldn't figure out how such strict rules about dominant and recessive genes could produce the variety of species we have. If dominant and recessive genes really were so binary in nature (D | R = D, R | R = R, D | D = D, etc) then unless there was more imbreeding going on, all recessive genes would've eventually gone away and we would all be the same.

The dominant/recessive model is only the simplest example of interactions between genes. Mendel was actually rather lucky/selective in finding a number of properties of peas that follow this model. In general, properties of organisms are determined by interactions between many different genes, each possessing any number of variants.

Good idea. Here's mine! Now I'd better go join the EFF. I noticed that their site is /.ed, though.

"Intelligentsia - 1920. [Russian f. L. intelligentia INTELLIGENCE.] The class consisting of the educated portion of the population and regarded as capable of forming public opinion."

This is a useful definition, and it should be quite clear that it doesn't describe Slashdot. Maybe some slashdotters, but y'all are too narrow in focus and too uninterested in public policy to qualify under either of the two above requirements. Slashdot is effectively a trade journal, for internal consumption by people in the info-tech biz. At its best it's energetic and informative; at its worst it's insular and self-congratulatory. Either way, what goes on here is not meaningfully of interest to anyone not already of the community in one sense or another.

The intelligentsia are those who write books, who control the various news media, whose ideas form the common body of law, whose advice is sought by politicians. They're generally scholars, writers, judges, sociologists, diplomats, economists, journalists, and occasionally politicians, bankers, scientists, artists, architects, doctors, or religious leaders. They are never (just) mechanics, engineers, secretaries, programmers, lawyers, homemakers, sysadmins, artisans, or any other sort of technician -- technical literacy may be necessary, but it's hardly sufficient. Those who are among the latter and want to be part of the intelligentsia need to join the former instead. Then, if you like, you can come back and tell Sterling you have something useful to offer the Viridians.

EtFb

Now look what you've done.
You've spawned a definition of foobar which is different from other foobars. From now on web searchers will be distracted from their search for the common ancestor of foobar by finding this foobar discussion. And now that you've created this foobar meaning, all other foobars will vanish.