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Pheromone Robotics
An Anonymous Coward writes: "This is the official text I just came across: "The HRL Pheromone Robotics program aims to provide a robust, scalable approach for coordinating actions of large numbers of small scale robots to achieve large scale results in surveillance, reconnaissance, hazard detection, path finding, payload conveyance, and small-scale actuation." But it's the spooky image that grabbed *me*..." Here's some more on the pheromone-sniffing robots pictured, and some more information about making robots that hunt in packs. The page has not been updated for a while, but it's worth seeing.
first post! go trolls!
I'd never be able to escape those robots on a bad gas day....
stink mcshitz
I have to sing and dance for my wages.
Right outside this lazy summer home
You ain't got time to call your soul a critic, no.
Right outside the lazy gate of winter's summer home,
Wonderin' where the nut thatch winters, wings a mile long
Just carried the bird away.
Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world.
The heart has its beaches, its homeland and thoughts of its own.
Wake now discover that you are the song that the morning brings.
The heart has its seasons, its evenings and songs of its own.
There comes a redeemer and he slowly too fades away.
There follows his wagon behind him that's loaded with clay.
The seeds that were silent all burst into bloom and decay,
Night comes so quiet, it's close on the heels of the day.
Sometimes we live no particular way but our own.
Sometimes we visit your country and live in your home.
Sometimes we ride on your horses, sometimes we walk alone,
Sometimes the songs that we hear are just songs of our own.
Shout out to everyone baking with the dead on a fine saturday afternoon. Damn shame slashdot filters out messages that contain guitar tab.
Color flashing, thunder crashing, dynamite machines.
I just saw a picture of this five year old girl, she was wearing nothing but a diaper and a t-shirt, it made me so horny
I troll it up, when I'm going to be gone for a day or more. I don't even feel the temporary IP ban.
I troll it up when I'm not gone too. Yea for multiple accounts.
1) Do you have a website? If so, what is the URL?
2) Do you like They Might Be Giants?
3) Do you miss wearing diapers?
4) What OS do you use?
I claim this FP in the name of people who log in.* g o a t s e x * g o a t s e x * g o a t s e x * g g o / \ \ / \ o a \ a t `. : t s` \ s e \ / / \\\ -- \\ : e x \ \/ --~~ ~-- \ x * \ \-~ ~-\ * g \ \ .--------.___\ g
o \ \// ((> \ o
a \ . C ) ((> / a
t /\ C )/ That's\ (> / t
s / /\ C)my FP (> / \ s
e ( C__)\___/ // _/ / \ e
x \ \\// (/ x
* \ \) `---- --' *
g \ \ / / g
o / \ o
a / \ \ a
t / / \ t
s / / \/\/ s
e / e
x x
* g o a t s e x * g o a t s e x * g o a t s e x *
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
When I saw the words "Pheromone" I instantly thought about robots which could smell. I could just see the blue screen of death now... "If you think I'm continuing without you wearing deodorant, you're dreaming!"
I was going to tell you about this website. I hope you enjoy it.
"Pheromone Robotics
Members of the robot
swarm spread out to search space.
The HRL Pheromone Robotics program aims to provide a robust, scalable approach for coordinating actions of large numbers of small scale robots to achieve large scale results in surveillance, reconnaissance, hazard detection, path finding, payload conveyance, and small- scale actuation. We intend to accomplish this
by developing innovative concepts for coordinating, and interacting with, a large collective of tiny robots. Borrowing techniques used by ants and termites, our robots exhibit emergent collaboration. Inspired by the chemical markers used by these insects for communication and coordination, we exploit the notion of a "virtual pheromone," implemented using simple beacons and directional sensors mounted on each robot. Virtual pheromones facilitate simple communication and coordination and require little on-board processing. Our approach is applicable
to future robots with much smaller form factors (e.g., to dust-particle size) and is scaleable to large, heterogeneous groups of robots. We plan to provide robustness by requiring no explicit maps or models of the environment, and no explicit knowledge of robot location. Collections of robots will be able to perform complex tasks such as leading the way through a building to a hidden intruder or locating critical choke points. This is possible because the robot collective will become a computing grid embedded within the environment while acting as a physical embodiment of the user interface. Over the past decades, the literature on path planning and terrain analysis has dealt primarily with algorithms operating on an internal map containing terrain features. Our approach externalizes the map, spreading it across a collection of simple processors, each of which determines the terrain features in its locality. The terrain processing algorithms of interest are then spread over the population of simple processors, allowing such global quantities as shortest routes, blocked routes, and contingency plans to be computed by the population.
The user interface to this distributed robot collective is itself distributed. Instead of communicating with each robot individually, the entire collective will work cooperatively to provide a unified display embedded in the environment. For example, robots that have dispersed themselves throughout a building will be able to guide a user toward an intruder by synchronizing to collectively blink in a marquee-style pattern to highlight the shortest path to the intruder. Through the use of augmented reality, robots will be able to present more complex displays. Users wearing a see- through head-mounted display and a head-mounted camera that detects and tracks infrared beacons emanating from the robots will be able to see a small amount of information superimposed over each robot. Each robot will, in effect, be a pixel that paints information upon its local environment. The combination of this world-embedded interface with our world- embedded computation means that the results of complex distributed computations can be mapped directly
onto the world with no intermediate representations required.
webmaster@hrl.com
Last Update: April 18, 2001
©
Copyright 2001, HRL Laboratories, LLC
OK- I've been on Slashdot for a while now. At first I read it for the links, which were great. Then I started reading comments. I didn't post for a long time. I watched the moderation system evolve into what it is today.
But the fact is, Slashdot is broken. If you're not familiar with the most moderated thread on slashdot, go here. Without going into too much detail, nameless Slashdot editors 'threadslapped' an entire thread of comments under the comment entitled "The first Slashdot troll post investigation." Every post there goes to -1, Offtopic within minutes it appears.. which is why I'm not posting this comment in that thread.
When I first read this, I was pissed - isn't Slashdot's moderation system "user based" as CmdrTaco has insisted on since the beginning? CmdrTaco has ALWAYS recommended a moderation system that was completely controlled by the users. He said he was against manually intervening.. until he admitted to bitchslapping users because he didn't like them. But that's old news and if you've been on Slashdot long enough, you know it's par for the course.
Let's compare: Why does Slashdot suck while K5 continues to be a good community? Don't forget that K5 editors reserve the right to kill comments and even ban users. Rusty is the first to admit that K5 is NOT a democracy. Still, the two biggest differences are users moderating story submissions, and the fact that you can SEE who moderated each comment, if you want. These two features are enough to prevent this kind of thing (wholesale downvoting of comments) from ever happening on Kuro5hin.
Is it hypocritical to disapprove of Slashdot's editors, while praising K5's editors, even though they have always reserved the right to dictate the content of their site? Yes. But do I care? No, I don't care. The fact is that Slashdot's editors are a bunch of hypocrites themselves. CmdrTaco, champion of "your rights online," violated his own philosophy by sticking his nose in a "user moderated" forum. Jamie McCarthy doesn't post stories often, but this comment on K5 makes you wonder if he wasn't behind the systematic downmodding.
From his comment: "But if editors (who of course have unlimited mod points, we've said this before) happen to notice off-topic threads taking over stories, we moderate them as such. Duh."
Ah.. but where do you admit to that, Jamie? Not in the Slashdot FAQ.. (no, admitting it on K5 does not count). Actually, the FAQ says "Slashdot is committed to the idea of a completely free and open forum." CmdrTaco wrote that, over a year ago. A completely free and open forum that silences an entire discussion because one person didn't like where it was going.
A couple things before I post this and lose all my karma (btw it's just a number and I don't care how much I have). This moderation wouldn't bother me so much, if it wasn't for all the (justified) bitching and moaning from the editors when MS wanted to get a comment taken off of Slashdot. Now they have the gall to do the same thing themselves, without any public comment? I think this deserves a front page 'sorry' from whichever editor did it.
You'll notice I didn't use the word censorship once. This isn't censorship! You don't have a god given right to post to Slashdot. The editors can do what they like. I prefer to look at the site as a sort of failed human experiment. In these comments, you can find humanity at its most eloquent and compassionate (read the 'Hellmouth' stories again. It's worth it. They are that good). You can also find, well, mindless garbage that gives real trolls a bad name. But in the end it comes down to the editors. They're the bread and butter of a site like this, and they used to be good. Many of us have watched this community die, thanks to them.
Well, that's just my take on the matter.
Do you eat Ramen Noodles? Do you like to eat them with hot sauce? Do you like to eat them while listening to "They Might Be Giants"? Do you like eating them while you are wearing a diaper? Do you use AOL Instant Messanger? Are you italian? Are you American? Are your feet cold? Is there snow outside? Why is the sky blue?
Hey ooh.
Sheets of empty canvas.
Untouched sheets of clay were laid spread out before me as her body once did.
All five horizons revolved around her soul. As the earth to the sun.
Now the air I tasted and breathed has taken a turn.
Ooh, and all I taught her was everything.
Ooh, I know she gave me all that she wore.
And now my bitter hands shade beneath the clouds of what was everything.
All the pictures have all been washed in black. Tattooed every day.
I take a walk outside. I'm surrounded by some kids at play.
Oh, I can feel their laughter. Oh, so why do I sear?
Ooh, and twisted thoughts that spin around my head.
I'm spinning. Oh, I'm spinning.
How quick the sun can drop away.
And now my bitter hands cradle broken glass of what was everything.
All the pictures have all been washed in black. Tattooed everything.
All the love gone bad turned my world to black.
Tattooed all I see. All that I am. All I'll be. Yeah.
Uh huh... Uh huh... Ooh.
I know someday you'll have a beautiful life.
I know you'll be a star in somebody else's sky but why, why, why can't it be, oh, can't it be mine?
Oh... Ohh yeah oh.
Do do do do do do do (x20 total) Yeah... Yeah...
Hi. (x6)
Yeah. (x3)
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
yes, heterophiles are the cancer of this planet.
-Alfred Jodocus Kwak
This is old news. I personally find it amusing that this thread-slapping has turned some disused UID's from the old days into trolls. We all know that Malda is feeling stressed out by being berated constantly by what ammounts to complete strangers (us trolls). I personally speak for me alone when I say I do it out of boredom. I neither know Rob Malda, nor care anything for him.
It is funny to post offensive content to this site. Period. I enjoy it. I do not care if I or everyone else get modded into oblivion, by the janitors or the other users of this system. I have real issues to care about. If I get banned at home, I post at work (and vice versa).
Another funny concept is community . Community it where you live. I know I am as guilty as many of you. I sit on my expanding ass in front of one of my machines for far too many hours a day. I still do not consider any "place" made totally of bits in a database to be my comunity. I would just as easily waste my time elsewhere like I have since my 1st net connection in 1994, or my pre-/. existance circa late 1999.
Many of us are taking shit WAAAAY too seriously. Kick back, have a bacardi limon and coke and kiss the missus. I know I make my wife a computer widow way too much.
Thank you for your time, and for reposting this shit verbatim.
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
Ants are very simple creatures that working collectively in groups to accomplish fairly complicated tasks using mostly smell.
Modeling behavior along these lines and allowing simple creatures to relay very simple state messages with each robot repeating it to others would allow behavior and information to be propagated and acted on even in hostile situations. (Only short range communication is possible for instance.)
ie If the robots are searching for something and one finds the target it could alert the others around it and they could repeat the message and alter their behavior accordingly - if required. Eventually the alert would filter across all robots and reach "home" at which point a response could be propagated back to the successful creature the same way.
If your creatures are too simple there are limitations, however. If you put certain acids on ants other ants will assume they're dead - the smell trigger - and carry them to "dead ant" pile even if they're struggling. The "un-dead" ant will be carried back to the dead ant pile repeatedly until the smell wears off.
=tkk
Bill Gates - Creationist?!?
Due to FAA regulations concerning persons in lavatories, the plane had to circle the destination airport until it was dangerously low on fuel before it was allowed to land. Service crews finaly freed the woman by opening the toilet's external waste removal valve.
Let this be a lesson to all, especially in the geek community, many of whom are overweight: ALWAYS STAND BEFORE FLUSHING THE TOILET ON AN AIRLINER!
Do you eat Ramen Noodles? Do you like to eat them with hot sauce? Do you like to eat them while listening to "They Might Be Giants"? Do you like eating them while you are wearing a diaper? Do you use AOL Instant Messanger? Are you italian? Are you American? Are your feet cold? Is there snow outside? Why is the sky blue? Are you a moderator who is going to waste a mod point on me? MOD posts up, not down!!! HA, diaper.
Yes.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
Yes.
Yes.
No.
Because.
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
Pheromone Robotics
We are developing techniques for coordinating the actions of large numbers of small-scale robots to achieve useful large-scale results in surveillance, reconnaissance, hazard detection, and path finding. Inspired by the chemical markers used by insects for communication and coordination, we exploit the notion of a
"virtual pheromone," implemented using simple beacons and directional sensors mounted on each robot. Virtual pheromones facilitate simple communication and coordination and require little
on-board processing. Collections of robots will be able to perform complex tasks such as leading the way through a building to a hidden intruder or locating critical choke points. This is possible because the robot collective becomes a computing grid embedded in the environment. The user interface to this distributed robot collective is itself distributed. Instead of communicating with each robot individually, the entire collective works cooperatively to provide a unified world-embedded display. Our methods need no explicit maps or models of the environment, and require no explicit knowledge of robot locations yet they still allow such global quantities as shortest routes, blocked routes, and contingency plans to be computed by the robot population.
This site desperately needs more racist content. So here is the first racist post. Enjoy!
So the moral of the story is...Don't rub steak all over yourself.
Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto,
Mata ah-oo hima de
Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto,
Himitsu wo shiri tai
You're wondering who I am-machine or mannequin
With parts made in Japan, I am the modren man
I've got a secret I've been hiding under my skin
My heart is human, my blood is boiling, my brain I.B.M.
So if you see me acting strangely, don't be surprised
I'm just a man who needed someone, and somewhere to hide
To keep me alive-just keep me alive
Somewhere to hide to keep me alive
I'm not a robot without emotions-I'm not what you see
I've come to help you with your problems, so we can be free
I'm not a hero, I'm not a saviour, forget what you know
I'm just a man whose circumstances went beyond his control
Beyond my control-we all need control
I need control-we all need control
I am the modren man, who hides behind a mask
So no one else can see my true identity
Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto, domo...domo
Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto, domo...domo
Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto, domo...domo
Thank you very much, Mr. Roboto
For doing the jobs that nobody wants to
And thank you very much, Mr. Roboto
For helping me escape just when I needed to
Thank you-thank you, thank you
I want to thank you, please, thank you
The problem's plain to see: too much technology
Machines to save our lives. Machines dehumanize.
The time has come aat last
To throw away this mask
So everyone caan see
My true identity...
I'm Kilroy! Kilroy! Kilroy! Kilroy!
Proof of the gay-linux conspiracy!
Intro:
Yah Blessed
Yah man black people
African people just one love and one joy you know
Blessed
Them is the black man and black woman kingdom you know
Check it
So we go
Chorus:
A lot of people don't got no good in a them and me see it
The wicked a go drop off like ripe leaf
Nuff a them no got no love in a them, how you do it ?
That mean you wouldn't give the ghetto youths food fi eat
Nuff a them no got no love in a them and me see it
The heathen a go drop off like ripe leaf
Nuff a them no got no love in a them, how you do it ?
Verse 1:
That mean you would a scorn the ghetto youths well
Well a who got the matches ?
Who got the gasoline ?
Youths clear the passage
Cause a fire me deh dash
Like a macca marijuana
Tell them me ask
Nuff a them a it me find out
Nuff a them a happen
Nuff boy turn your friend just through cash
Laugh and a pretend then a stab you in the back
Well me humble, a wait,
Meekly a watch into the fire
Way deh blaze nuff a them a keep back
You run gone go dig you pit and set up them trap
A bear wolf a go under the lock
So King Emmanuel put on me turban wrap
So them yah time Babylon you must get lash
Like a tomato you must get splash
Them a chant bout me poor through me clothes full a patch
And through them pull a door and got a key to them lock
Well Babylon Jesse Christ him blackk
Chorus
Verse 2:
Find out the devil send them fi me hang them
Well Babylon you lose cause I nah pretend
Well a who go bend them fi me come straight them
Caan follow I, nor the Lion in a the den
Tell me now a who go friend them fi me go shame them
With Selassie I free Emmanuel anthem
Well then a who go strenght them
To misled Jah children
Babylon this never yet no problem
Yow, a some skunk them
Come we go dump them
The wicked man tell me who do you praise ?
The Alien
In them yah time yah
Me sey a them they got to bless
Fire got to bless
Chorus:
Verse 3:
Well then I live for Jah all my days
And if a no King Selassie you deh praise well the heathen a go rage
Fire me deh blaze
So me tell them sey
Them a the real hypocrite
Them caan take me fire them a walk and a spit
Through no wicked I no subject did nah commit
Them only rob the poor then go bow to the rich
Me find out a hatred nuff a practice
Mister Scrapehead just come fi you justice
Cause everyday you devise some mischief
Now rude boy you ready cos things done sleve
Chorus / Repeat Verse 1
Color flashing, thunder crashing, dynamite machines.
This makes me wonder if robot hunting might become a new "sport". You know the classic scenario of many villains wanting to hunt humans because they're the only game that's difficult enough to bring down. Maybe we'll hear about a new kind of high-class robot safari? Heh, then we can all be evil-eccentrics without the guilt, or the evil...
--I hate big sigs.
checkfon var forma elk dai hekka ek jarfal
Imagine hacking these robots just by farting near a swarm of them ;)
Here is a site that wake your racist inner child.
Israel A. Wagner's home page about Ants, Robots and Computation is here and it's a great and interesting compilation of data on this topic. Absolutely recommended.
I'd love to flick this girl's clit.
Are they just posers or the real thing?
What rubbish. This is jewish science at its worst. This kike would be better off counting money at his shrine (bank).
For more information on the ability to accomplish complicated tasks with simple rules take a look at this book The Computational Beauty of Nature.
Very informative book, lots of good explanations, diagrams, and the code for his software is available on the website. As a plus he seems to have written the book using free software which he acknowledges at the end of the book). His programs run under linux. He has some very well done graphics (even some dual-image stereograms) which were created with gunplot. I highly recommend this book.
Die Beschäftigung mit Superstars, mit diesen unerreichbar überglänzenden Gespenstern der Medienwelt, hat etwas Trostloses und zugleich Abenteuerliches. Es gibt da einen Reiz, eine Oberfläche, die man sofort versteht und die einen in die Tiefe einer neuen, auch gesellschaftlichen Wirklichkeit zieht.
... I did it again"-Videos - wer sich heute so stylen will wie sein Lieblingsstar, der muß nicht mehr durch unzählige Boutiquen geistern, die Outfits ungefähr zusammenstellen, sich vielleicht lächerlich machen, wie in den 80ern. Heute geht das Popstar-Spielen per Mouseklick. Und weil das so ist, braucht sich, nebenbei bemerkt, auch kein Mensch mehr darüber zu wundern, dass sich Style" als Ausdrucksmittel abgenutzt hat. Es sind die Körper, die die Hürden nehmen müssen und die kommunizieren. Es geht nicht darum, Britneys bauchnabelfreies Top aufzutreiben, sondern darum, dafür zu sorgen, dass man einem dieser sogenannte Casual Look" auch tatsächlich steht.
Britney Spears ist das berühmteste Mädchen-Gespenst der Gegenwart - und sie will die nächste Madonna werden.
Als Britney Spears vor rund zwei Jahren in einer katholischen Schuluniform die Charts enterte, ein blondes Kunstgeschöpf, gemacht, um das natürliche Mädchen von nebenan zu mimen und uns alle glücklich zu machen, wirkte sie wie eine Vorbotin einer neuen Zeit.
Man war/ist noch die Girl-Stars der 90er-Jahre gewohnt. Von Madonna bis zu den Spice-Girls, von Hole bis zu Lil Kim: sie alle richteten sich mit einer spielerischen Mischung aus Spaß und Sarkasmus in ihrer Geschlechterrolle ein. Nicht so Britney: sie will nicht subversiv entlarvend sein, sondern seriös echt. Und sie mimt die Jungfrau, die versucht, sexy zu wirken, nicht die Schlampe, die gerne für eine Nacht wieder ein Engel wäre. Und zwischen Jungfrau und Hure oszillieren bekanntlich alle Rollen, die das Pop-Patriarchat für Frauen bereitstellt. Darüber hinaus rückt Britney, ganz wie ein korrekter Teenager, ständig irgend etwas zurecht - nicht ihren beständigen In-Look allerdings, der sitzt fest, sondern ihr Image. Glaubt man Britney, so handelt Lucky", das theatralischste Stück Bubble-Gum des Jahres - ein Lied wie eine ganze Folge Seifenoper -, gar nicht von ihr, sondern von einem einsamen Hollywood-Star. Und nein, also Hit me Baby, One More Time" - das hat doch nichts mit Sex zu tun! Auch die sexy Outfits nicht. Und dann die Sache mit den Brüsten, die nicht schönheitsvergrößert, [Britney, 12.4k] sondern von selbst gewachsen sind, angeblich; aber lassen wir das. Es ist schließlich verdammt unzivilisiert, jungen Frauen unablässig auf Brustwarzen und Waden zu schielen. Blenden wir uns also lieber wieder ein in Britneys Girl Next Door"-Posing. Der Alltag eines Pop-Superstars - er unterscheidet sich, laut Britney, nicht die Brechbohne von dem eines ganz normalen Mädchens. Auch ich, sagt die kleine Lady und lächelt süß, brauche morgens nur eine halbe Stunde im Bad. Das ist erfrischend! Und hat wie alles an Britney zwei Seiten: eine augenscheinliche und eine alberne. Aber auch das ist Pop, wenn auch keinesfalls unschuldig oder naiv wie eine Jungfrau. Und überhaupt kommt Britney Spears einfach ein bisschen humorlos rüber. Wobei es in dieser Welt der disziplinierten Cheerleader wohl auch nicht viel zu lachen gibt. Wer will schon den ganzen Tag Knäckebrot essen und sich Muskeln antrainieren, die er dann gar nicht benutzen darf im wirklichen Leben? Oder sehe ich das zu verbissen? Cheerleader-Girls bestreiten endlich das Hauptprogramm - und alle Mädchen wollen ein bisschen so ausschauen wie Britney. Mehr als 2000 Zuschriften hat die Bravo erhalten, als sie kürzlich einen Britney-Spears-Doppelgänger-Wettbewerb ausrief. Das silberne Space-Outfit, der Casual Look mit bauchfreiem Top oder Rot im Stil des Oops!
Für Britney Spears ist das natürlich praktisch. Britney braucht nicht mehr Teil einer Girl-Group zu sein, Britney hat Doubles, Girl-Armys all over the world. Aber Britney gibt es ja auch gar nicht wirklich. Sie ist ja nur ein Kunstprodukt, ein Märchenfee-Pokemon vielleicht. Vom Cheerleader-Universum kommt sie, uns zu zeigen, wie die Welt da draußen ist. Unterstützt von Produktmanagern, die, wohl auch per Mouseklick und Meinungsforschung, herausgefunden haben, dass junge Mädchen zwischen acht und fünfzehn sich mit so etwas - mit genau so etwas wie Britney - identifizieren wollen. Damit sie auch morgen noch kraftvoll in den kalorienarmen Apfel beißen können. Auch Britneys Songs überlassen nichts dem Zufall. Dear Diary", ein Stück, an dem sie mitgeschrieben hat, klingt so, als habe die 18jährige Teen-Queen tatsächlich im Tagebuch ihres Fans geblättert: Dear diary - today I saw a boy and I wondered if he noticed me. It took my breath away." Und das hat auch etwas Rührendes - wie es überhaupt schön ist, den Habitus eines Highschool-Girls so eins auf einer CD zu finden, including Gekichere und hochbestürzte Telefonate mit der besten Freundin. Dieses sehr Euphorische, das man so toll findet an Teenager-Girls, schwingt mit in Britneys Songs. Aber auch das Schweigen. Denn manchmal singt sie statusgemäß atemlos, als habe es ihr die Stimme verschlagen.
Ausgestattet mit einer pfadfinderhaften-genauen Wegbeschreibung stolpere ich durch ein sonniges Bremen, vorbei am Hintereingang eines Parkhauses, immer auf der Suche nach der VIP-Lounge. (...) Die Straße vor der Stadthalle ist abgesperrt und vollgepackt mit Fans. Sie wirken sehr gesittet und ruhig. Fast wie Erwachsene harren sie der Dinge, die da kommen. (...) Jetzt sollen die Mädchen Britney Spears ist geil" ins Mikro eines Radioreportes rufen. Vergnügt schreien sie los. Sind die alle lesbisch?" argwöhnt ein pubertierender Junge, kopfschüttelnd. Es ist eben doch ein ungewohnter Anblick, wenn junge Mädchen für eine Geschlechtsgenossin, und nicht etwa für eine Boygroup schwärmen. Ein paar Meter weiter singen meist weibliche Fans hingebungsvoll She's so lucky, she's a star, but she cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart" in die Kamera eines Fernseh-Reporters und amen dabei Britneys geschmeidig-roboterhafte Tanzeinlagen nach. Den Text von Lucky" können hier alle auswendig, es scheint sowieso das Lieblingslied der Fans zu sein. (...) Weil es ein Lied über ein trauriges Mädchen ist, das mit dem Ruhm nicht zurechtkommt", behauptet Katrin, 10, Wimperntusche auf den Augenlidern. (...) Die elfjährige Natalie trägt Kajal und Lippenstift. Ich bin jetzt doch beeindruckt. In diesem Alter mußte ich mich noch heimlich im Gartenhaus schminken. Vielleicht wird das in Zukunft immer so sein, vielleicht ist das jetzt schon die Zukunft: Willkommen in der Welt des Kindermarketings. Nur Babys und Kleinkinder bis fünf sind noch nicht zugelassen zum segensreichen Paradies der weiblichen Selbstverschönerung. (...)
Und vielleicht, denke ich, während ich Britney später im Konzert beobachte, wie sie diese abgehackten Tanzeinlagen bringt, kurz innehält, dann weitertanzt - als müsse, wer schön sein will, stillstehen und tanzen zugleich -, vielleicht ist sie wirklich das All-American-Girl-Next-Door", das den Traum verwirklicht hat, den großen. Und nebenbei den Artikulationsverlust ihrer jugendlichen Fans zum Ausdruck bringt. Eine Art 21st-Century-Michael Jackson.
please close/lock this thread
LET'S REBUILD THE TWIN TOWERS IN N.Y. . . . & STICK ANOTHER PAIR IN KABUL!
I'm madder than a window washer with a busted squeegee over people who don't think we should rebuild the World Trade Center.
I say we rebuild them double - put two Twin Towers in New York and two more smack in the middle of Afghanistan. And we oughta throw in a replica of the Pentagon in downtown Kabul for good measure.
The sight of those towers rising over the sand dunes will drive Taliban terrorists insane for years to come.
When they look up and see the new Twin Towers staring down at them, they'll realize they took their best shot at America - and we came back stronger than ever.
And at the same time the new towers will serve as a shining symbol of hope for friendly Afghani people who were happy to see America come to their rescue.
When we finish building the new Twin Towers over there we can let the good people of Afghanistan have free tours - and even ride in the elevators up and down all day long.
I say we should even let one of them cut the ribbon at the opening ceremony. Heaven knows they suffered under the Taliban long enough - they deserve a break.
Once the buildings open for business, we'll reserve the top 10 floors of each of the towers over there for our military operations - Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines - just in case.
And the FBI and CIA can put high-powered spy-cams on the top floor to keep an eye on everything. From that high up they can monitor just about anything going on in that part of the world, because there are no other tall buildings to block the view.
Then if Saddam Hussein or anyone gets any wise ideas, we can launch our bombers from the top of the towers and drop an A-bomb here or there to snap everyone back in line.
Chances are we won't even need to build offices in the new Pentagon. The building can just serve as a memorial - and a big five-sided reminder of why we swept away the Taliban like garbage.
And so the new Twin Towers and Pentagon can never be destroyed, we'll make them out of super-strong reinforced steel - the kind we use for nuclear plants and prisons.
That way Osama bin Laden can hit them with rockets and missiles and even bomb the basement - and not even knock a picture off the wall!
Now if only Tom Ridge could figure out which end is up...
And Bush would come clean about the "pretzel" incident.
acorrding to this anonymous post (it may have already been deleated by the time you read this post), OSDN is experiencing some major feduciary problems. As the post speculates, the only hope for /.'s survival is to cut back on reasources: editors, story comments, or perhaps just fuck jon katz up the ass with a big black dildo. Why does god always take the good websites?
Rob Malda has barely made any effort to fully describe the process of selecting Slashdot moderators. What little information that has been supplied is an outright lie. The story of Malda's moderation system is far more insidious than merely separating wheat from chaff.
Last night, as I leaned over to give my Natalie Portman poster a tender kiss goodnight, I was psychically cast into a hypnotic trance. While entranced, my spirit guides delivered unto me the tale of the Slashdot moderators. Prepare to have your faith in Mr. Malda and moderation shaken to the core.
Not long ago, Rob Malda was an outcast teenager. He did well in some of his classes, but was terrible with English. As is so often the tragic case today, his teachers passed him anyway, just to get rid of him. Since Malda had no real life, he spent much of his time on the computer (of course), and watching the public-access cable channel. It was there that Malda heard of the mysterious Mongolian monks.
Malda was watching his favorite talk show, "Elizabeth Claire prophet." the guests that night were a group of monks based in Mongolia. The monks described how they had been traveling to china to trade some of their cute teen daughters for Natalie Portman memorabilia. The monks had traveled no more than three days when they noticed a brilliant light in the daytime sky. The light grew larger. In addition, larger. And larger. Soon the sky was completely hidden, from horizon to horizon, by a giant metallic disk.
The monks were taken aboard the craft and placed under some sort of alien mind-control. There, they were given the deepest possible insights into the nature of man, the universe and god. A week later, the alien beings returned the monks to the earth and vanished forever.
The monks considered the area holy ground and constructed a new temple there, not bothering to return to their old monastery. They took their daughters as wives and began their own commune of worship, based on the teachings of the aliens. The monks practiced meditations, which unleashed powerful spiritual forces within them. As the wives bore children, the community grew.
Malda was intrigued by the spiritual insights received by the monks and excited by the idea of incestuous pleasures. Unfortunately, the monks had no internet connection and so Malda could not email them. Without hesitation, Malda booked a flight and left for Mongolia. The plane ride was long and tiring, but his curiosity kept him driven.
After a month of searching, Malda finally located the commune. Initially, he kept a safe distance, for fear of rejection. He studied the monks from afar. Malda had heard stories of the monks' bizarre meditations, which gave them extraordinary powers. Malda was somewhat skeptical of these stories at first, until he saw the truth first-hand.
In the week, that Malda studied the monks; he witnessed the breaking of every natural law. He was astonished as he watched the monks levitate, create pockets of lush weather within the commune and communicated with spirit forces. Malda grew more and more excited and he devised a plan for meeting them.
Malda knew the monks would respect him if he could display his own "magical" powers. He was determined to win their confidence, and he had with him all of the necessary tools. He approached the commune confidently. The monks greeted him with skepticism at the gate. Malda took a deep breath and began his show.
Using an Aibo, a can of jolt cola and an inflatable sex doll, Malda shocked the monks with his display of magical powers. The monks accepted him into the commune. Malda's head was shaved and he was given a robe and a room. The monks warned Malda to stay away from their daughters-wives.
The monks methodically taught Malda the word of the great messengers. He learned eagerly at first, but soon grew bored with his life in the commune. Malda's life was further stressed when his blow-up doll suffered a puncture-wound and became useless. A few days later, his Aibo's power dried up. With no pet and no woman, Malda slowly grew crazed.
Malda had hit rock bottom. His penis chafed from dry-hand masturbation and the cold, dry climate. One dark night, he snuck into the kitchen and convinced one of the daughter-wives to join him in his room. Malda was quite relieved that he would finally get some female tenderness... for the first time in his life. He was so excited; he almost closed the deal prematurely.
Unluckily for Malda, the daughter-wife's father-husband was expecting her in bed at that particular moment. The women were expected to be with the monks at a very specific time for retirement. The monk went on a violent rampage throughout the temple, ending with Malda's room. He flung open the door to behold his daughter-wife half disrobed and lying on top of Malda. Malda looked up at the monk and gasped. The daughter-wife giggled.
The monk unsheathed his sword and the daughter-wife was beheaded on the spot. Malda kicked the unviable head away from him and jumped out of the bed. He backed himself into a corner, terrified. The monk approached him with sword raised. Just as he reached striking distance, he dropped the sword and collapsed, crying for the loss of his daughter and the betrayal of his adopted son. Malda was dishonorably discharged from the commune.
Malda wandered into the forest and took shelter in a cave. He spent the next five days curled up in a fetal position, feeding on bat guano and insects. The bitterness and hatred consumed Malda. Once again, he was an outsider. He decided that this time, he would not be trampled on.
Malda wandered for three days until he came upon a small village. He entered the shop of the local blacksmith and killed the ironworker by bashing him in the head with the Aibo. Malda crafted himself a massive machete. He took apart the Aibo and used its quality Sony components to enhance the machete with a nuclear driven flaming mechanism.
Malda returned to the commune. He took one last look at the peaceful community, and then hit the ignition switch on his machete. The weapon screamed like a thousand tortured souls as it ignited with flame. Malda then inserted the rechargeable battery from the Aibo into his rectum. Malda stormed the compound, beheading all of the monks and devouring their brains, thus capturing their souls into the battery in his anus.
The sky turned the color of blood and a great storm of pestilence swept over the village. Malda barely escaped before the commune was decimated by the hand of god, thus purging the terrible evil that had been committed. His face stained with blood and his heart stained with the forces of evil, Malda returned to the United States.
Malda was crazed with power. He devised another insidious plan. He would build an army of mindless followers, which he would use to bring the world to its knees. He would use an online site for the tech-savvy elite to build this army. But he needed a way to control the chaotic masses that would come flocking to his new site. He needed his generals.
Malda prowled the streets of his hometown, enticing male prostitutes with promises of cheap crack cocaine and sexual favors. Once the prostitutes agreed to join Malda in his basement, he would tie them up and place the Aibo battery, upside down, in their rectum. He would then abuse the hapless victim with words of derision and samples of his writing.
The abuse was so severe, that the spirit of the victim would be broken and the soul of one monk would be absorbed from the battery. The resultant creature was not a man, nor a zombie. It was some pathetic monstrosity. The beaten souls of the monks were enslaved to Malda's terrible evil. They depended upon his evil powers for sustenance. Malda labeled his terrible, elite guard the "moderators."
Malda's site grew quickly in popularity and the moderators enforced blandness and conformance with a heavy hand. No good army has room for an individual. The moderators are psychically connected to Malda and know his word. That word is enforced on Slashdot. The subtle moderations effectively warped the minds of those who visited the site and grew addicted, due to the powerful evil force exuded by its words.
Today, Malda sits in his office, strumming his electric guitar, waiting for his army of darkness to ripen.
Yep looks like slashdot still sucks
I thought we already had pheromone-seeking robots. There called girls.
Watch out for those scent-tracking mechanical hounds.... Run, Montag, run!
1:9/-1:63! Way to go fellas!
Journals appear to have been removed now.
HTTP/1.1 200 OK Date: Sun, 20 Jan 2002 00:59:47 GMT Server: Apache/1.3.20 (Unix) mod_perl/1.25 mod_gzip/1.3.19.1a X-Powered-By: Slash 2.003000 Connection: close Transfer-Encoding: chunked Content-Type: text/html; charset=iso-8859-1
OK
The server encountered an internal error or misconfiguration and was unable to complete your request.
Please contact the server administrator, pater@slashdot.org and inform them of the time the error occurred, and anything you might have done that may have caused the error.
More information about this error may be available in the server error log.
From Count Zero: "They set a slamhound on Turner's trail in New Dehli, slotted it to his pheromones and the color of his hair. It caught up with him on a street called Chandni Chauk and came scrambling for his rented BMW through a forest of bare brown legs and pedicab tires. Its core was a kilogram of recrystallized hexogene and flaked TNT." Sleep sweet, everybody...
Is Ray Bradbury psychic, or what? I mean, think about it: that book was written 50, 60 years ago, and it's still pertinent today. Just about the only thing that was off was the year the story took place-- 1990. But apparently, it was only off by about 15-20, because we could be living in that story in about 5-10 years, I'd say. *shudders* Really makes you think!
BTW, if you haven't read the book yet, READ IT!!
"It is a greater offense to steal men's labor, than their clothes"
Here's a section from the article that explains basically what I just tried to explain.
I don't mean to be flame bating or anything, I just thought the writeup was a bit confusing/misleading...that or I'm just an idiot and didn't understand what they submitter meant.
Ugh..Here we go again...
The HRL Pheromone *DING* Robotics program *DING* aims to provide a robust *DING* , scalable *DING* approach for coordinating actions of large numbers of small scale robots *DING* to achieve large scale results in surveillance *DING* , reconnaissance *DING* , hazard detection *DING* , path finding *DING* , payload *DING* conveyance *DING* , and small-scale actuation *DING* *DING* *DING* . We intend to accomplish this by developing innovative *DING* concepts for coordinating *DING* , and interacting *DING* with, a large
collective *DING* of tiny robots *DING* . Borrowing techniques used by ants and termites *DING* , our robots exhibit emergent *DING* collaboration *DING* . Inspired *DING* by the chemical markers *DING* used by these insects for communication *DING* and coordination *DING* , we exploit *DING* the notion of a "virtual *DING* pheromone," *DING*
implemented *DING* using simple beacons *DING* and directional sensors *DING* mounted on each robot. Virtual *DING* pheromones *DING* facilitate *DING* simple communication *DING* and coordination *DING* and require little on-board *DING* processing. Our approach is applicable to future robots with much smaller form factors (e.g., to dust-particle size) (hah, yeah right-- *DING* )and is scaleable *DING* to large, heterogeneous *DING* groups of robots.
We plan to provide robustness *DING* by requiring no explicit *DING* maps or models of the environment, and no explicit knowledge "explicit knowledge? What, the robots watch porn movies? *DING* of robot location. Collections of robots will be able to perform complex tasks *DING* such as leading the way through a building to a hidden intruder *DING* or locating critical choke points. *DING* This is possible because the
robot collective *DING* will become a computing grid *DING* embedded *DING* within
the environment *DING* while acting as a physical embodiment *DING* of the user interface What the FUCK are you talking about? *DING* . Over the past decades, the literature on path planning and terrain analysis *DING* has dealt primarily with algorithms *DING* operating on an internal map containing terrain
features. Our approach externalizes *DING* the map, spreading it across a collection *DING* of simple processors *DING* , each of which determines the terrain features in its locality *DING* . The terrain processing algorithms *DING* of interest are then spread over the population of simple processors *DING* , allowing such global *DING* quantities *DING* as shortest routes, blocked routes, and contingency *DING* plans to be computed by the population.
The user interface *DING* to this distributed robot collective *DING* *DING*
*DING* is itself distributed *DING* . Instead of communicating with each robot individually, the entire collective will work cooperatively *DING* to provide a unified *DING* display *DING* embedded *DING* in the environment *DING* . For example, robots that have dispersed themselves throughout a building will be able to guide a user toward an intruder by synchronizing *DING* to collectively blink
in a marquee-style *DING* pattern to highlight the shortest path to the intruder. Through the use of augmented *DING* reality *DING* , robots will be able to present more complex displays *DING* . Users wearing a see-through *DING* head-mounted *DING* display and a head-mounted *DING* camera that detects and tracks infrared *DING* beacons emanating *DING* from the robots will
be able to see a small amount of information superimposed *DING* over each robot. Each robot will, in effect, be
a pixel *DING* that paints *DING* information upon its local environment. The combination of this
world-embedded *DING* interface *DING* with our world-embedded *DING* computation means that the results of complex *DING* distributed *DING* computations *DING* can
be mapped *DING* directly onto the world with no intermediate *DING* representations *DING*
required.
I think I broke my dinger.
Bowie J. Poag
So, if any of you big linux coders have a nice version of Pacman for Win32, please pass it along this way. I promise not to do anything bad, like reverse assemble it, oops, spoke too much. BYE! Please, get back to me.
that's just nasty....
it's also not true.. fucktard.
Basically its a ton of cameras.
Use visual recognition to detect stuff like troop movements....
Or just use cameras+ human watching + set coordinates already.
Picture vietnam movies, with the guy radioing for a mortar strike.
Now picture no one in harm's way, but the cameras and coordinates for mortar strikes are at Mr. God's hands.
Later: Camera + visual recognition = Missle Guidence system
Later: Camera + High powered AA guns + some elementary physics = anti aircraft guns
But here's the kicker... If you network ALL the cameras, so you know information everywhere, then you can calculate things better...
Its like automagic driven cars, the more networked, the more you see around JOE BOB in his big ol truck... Because of networking alerts you to whats around it... The more you know.
God spoke to me
A Microsoft gag in a story about pheromones! You, sir, are history's greatest comedian.
...The U.S. have sent them after President Jiang Zemin already, look out!
The idea for the pack hunter sounds like a basic neural network with BEAM robotics. You can get a fairly good idea what BEAM(Biological, Electronic, Aesthetic, and Mechanical) is all about at http://www.solarbotics.net .
Basically, the philosophy of BEAM is that all robotics can be made from imitating the form of nature, and all can be made from the same basic components. You start by replicating single cell organisms and insects, and eventually progress to neural networks. The cool thing about BEAM robots is that they're entirely automated. You don't have to program their behavior, they works by "instinct."
If you want to make your own BEAM robots, just read some of the tutorials on http://www.solarbotics.net . Just don't be tempted to start with a complex robot. The idea behind BEAM robotics is to start simple, and work to complex. All you will need to start is a basic understanding of electronics and some cheap electronic components, which can usually be found at RadioShack(or by tearing apart old household appliances.)
I have no desire to reach nirvana.
... helping the US be more of an automated imperialist. This may be clever, but even if it is, it makes me sad that in a country with so many problems, some of our greatest minds are used to create smarter tools to kill and opress.
The insect/pheromone analog functioned more as a metaphor than anything. The underlying engineering seemed to be a rehash of the old digital/analogue information 'theory'. Nothing new but old sci-fi allusions.
heuristic algorithm seeks stochastic relationship
The "pheromone" business is no big deal. That's how creatures too dumb to make maps mark their world. The territory is the map.
Can you imagine a cluster of these babies!?
I never thought that would actually come up seriously.
Dacels Jewelers can't be trusted.
Quote "But it's the spooky image that grabbed *me*..."
Yeah, a picture of little robots is real spooky. I bet this guy's shadow gives him a heart attack.
I am aware of this project quite a long time, since I'm working on a similar project called "Swarm-Bots" [web site www.swarm-bots.org]. According to me their use of the term "pheromone" is not more than a catchy adjective to label their work. The research, as displayed on their web site, does not take many ideas from the ethological studies of ant colonies. For instance the robots communicate directly with each other, NOT through the environment, which is what ants use pheromone for. To me, it is merely an integration of the dynamic programming technique with mobile robots coupled with VR display interface. For those new to the subject, there is a new approach, called "swarm intelligence" that aims to create intelligent systems from a group of distributed simple agents. An excellent description of this approach is available in the "Swarm Intelligence: From Natural to Artificial Systems By Eric Bonabeau, Marco Dorigo, and Guy Theraulaz" . In this approach, the agents communicate through the environment, called stigmergy, to achieve group level tasks. There is no centralized control, yet the whole system is very scalable and robust. I hope to report some news on the progress of the Swarm-Bots soon.
.. what those little shoebox-sized black robots in
Star Wars were doing.. Now I know: checking up on Stormtrooper B.O.!
I don't think they understand, I'm nobody. and Nobody is perfect. Therefore, I am perfect. HA HA HA! HA HA HA@ I am so l33t
build a little birdhouse in your soul
Anyone remember the character in Gibson's Idoru who could tell people apart by their cyberspace footprint? PackHunter seems to make me think of this. Targetted marketing anyone?
are both good, but they both smell. Or osmething? the paohs thing about teh open sarcs
asource opened source???
Feed The Sponge
So you know, the HRL webpage has been updated.
She sat at the window watching the evening invade the avenue.