Slashdot Mirror
MSNBC on Infinera's Optical Chip
pnoti writes: "This article at MSNBC is a loose overview of Infinera's new chip with circuits that control the flow of light instead of the flow of electrons. 'If this chip performed as they hoped, it would shatter many of the theoretical limits regarding the behavior of light in optical communications networks.'" Update: 04/10 04:26 GMT by T : That's MSNBC, not The New York Times -- oops.
Beetlejuice, beetlejuice, beetlejuice!
Liberate your mind in two clicks or less.
fp
woohoo hey baby whoopy whoop
Is such an implementation of ICs reliable, when compared to the trusted-and-true silicon ICs of today? I mean, I understand the huge quest for faster and faster chips, but I hardly see this making an impact into the IC industry. Maybe 10-20 years down the road, but not now. Plus, the manufacturing has to be a lot more expensive.
yeah.
optical networking is cool.
optical networking is theoretically fast.
optical networking is theoretically as fast as the speed of light.
yeah.
Sign me up...
Intel Lasium?
Title of article says new york times, link points to msnbc... editors on crack yet again.
Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known. -- Carl Sagan
Yes but when will they have microchips than can control the flow of beer?
username: privatenospam
password: privatenospam
Slackware forever. Honestly, what else would you trust when it absolutely positively has to be stable, secure, and easy
Perhaps Slashdot might considering having some kind--any kind--of editorial process. At the minimum, have the article proofread by one other person before it gets posted.
And patents.
Yeah, Red Herring carried the story, and with a little lower "fluff factor". At least, it seemed to me . . .
The Gardener
--
other news, Microsoft bought out the New York Times Press. Get more information at nytimes.com/acquisition.
The story is on msnbc. Not really sure where the NYT comes in.
Monolinux reports that Mozilla 1.0RC1 is due within a week. This is surely News for Nerds and Stuff that Matters!
Nice FUCKING MODEL!!!!!!
[::honk honk::]
Beetlejuice, beetlejuice, beetlejuice....
indium phosphide valley?! Yuk!
"Fluff factor" my ass! It's an identical copy of the same article? What, different font size or something? Get real, karma whoooooooooooooore.
It's revealed that one can spy on another's computer activity by tracking the flickering light escaping from the cracks of the computer case!
Switzerland shifts out of Neutral
Tcd004
YES YES!!! Please post pr0n passwords, get moddes up, come on.. post em.. you know you want to ;)
PLEASE POST THEM
I cannot seem to load Jedi Outcast in lenis, fella. How for is the loading help here? Many users seem knowledgeable in the natalie portmans and the grits and the j00nix how can I play star wars my obsession on lenis penis?
Oh, Can I not? I am needing the help here, hella. I hope the fish has tansliterated well for justivce!
Well, they are certainly not the firsts to make photonic chips. Optical mux/demux (cascaded couplers) are routinely built as planar waveguides on semiconductor materials. However, the size of their chip seems really small, which suggests that they use photonic bandgap technology, which uses very small arrays of refraction index changes in which light at certain wavelenght can't propagate to make it perform tricks, like turning at 90 degrees on very small distance. However, I didn't saw any mention of this in the article. Anyone can confirm it is the case?
The stories are identical except you didn't have to keep clicking "next" to read the entire article on MSNBC. Nice attempt to discredit the article because of the association between Microsoft and NBC (MSNBC). I can't believe the moderators gave this troll +1, informative.
Serving on the company's board are Pradeep Sindhu, founder, vice chairman, and chief technology officer of Juniper Networks; Dan Maydan, president of Applied Materials; T.J. Rodgers, president and CEO of Cypress Semiconductor; Alex Balkanski, a general partner at Benchmark; and Vinod Khosla, a general partner at Kleiner Perkins.
I can't help wondering what they could have achieved in India, instead of coming to the US and helping make an already rich country richer.
If these guys are holding the key to such things...they do indeed have the motherfuckin' Holy Grail...
odium|||nunquam|||obticesco
They might have achieved enlightment. Or cholera. Or NUCULAR WEAPONS.
Perhaps even a spicier curry? Or a stinkier armpit? Or even a non biased opionion from an obvious sand-nigger-camel-jockey named "raahul_da_man"
Dirty towel head terrorist fag.
Slashdot is not the only publication with bad editors! To quote the article: "Though Infinera won't reveal the chip's cost, when built with manufacturing techniques used by chip makers like Intel and Advanced Micro Devices, it likely could be made very cheaply."
Well, not quite. You see, the article later mentions that Infinera used InP (Indium Phosphide) chips instead of silicon, probably because they needed it's superior electrical and optical properties. With InP, it's possible to make 100 GHz circuits, but not cheaply. Certainly not for the same cost as a modern, silicon CPU.
"Some of Infinera's 700 or so competitors"...
Even if they do it, the cost competition is gonna make sure they never make any money....
- Adam L. Beberg - The Cosm Project - http://www.mithral.com/
Doesn't forget that The New York Times and MSNBC are not the same!.
MONOLINUX : Where the editors can actually read!Well suppose one day everything that is electronic today becomes optical.
What will our test instruments look like? What will be the units of measure?
How is work done in an optical device? Will we have 'fiber buss bars' a la Outland that carry 'DC light' everywhere?
Will we have to break open circuits to measure things a la current probe?
Will there be optical equivalents of everything electronic or will the optical stuff be a specialized peripheral of electronic devices?
There are true optical switches (from Nortel, for example), although they're circuit switches for backbone links. An optical IP router is a ways off.
Couldn't this theoretically be thrown off by light nearby? Like internal LEDS for the power switch?
Indium Phosphide Valley, anyone?
And I thought I was tired of changing light bulbs already...
Darn the computer's dead... lemme check the light bulb.
I wonder if the size of the device will allow companies to recogize significant space saving costs.
It's elementary physics, really. You basically just have to tweak the harmonic resonance to the flux capacitor - and EUKEKA - photonic routing!
"What's it going to be then, eh?"
There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is
Pete, Georgie, and Dim. Dim being really dim, and we sat in
the Korova Milkbar making up our rassoodocks what to do
with the evening, a flip dark chill winter bastard though dry.
The Korova Milkbar was a milk-plus mesto, and you may, O
my brothers, have forgotten what these mestos were like,
things changing so skorry these days and everybody very
quick to forget, newspapers not being read much neither.
Well, what they sold there was milk plus something else. They
had no licence for selling liquor, but there was no law yet
against prodding some of the new veshches which they used
to put into the old moloko, so you could peet it with vel-
locet or synthemesc or drencrom or one or two other vesh-
ches which would give you a nice quiet horrorshow fifteen
minutes admiring Bog And All His Holy Angels and Saints in
your left shoe with lights bursting all over your mozg. Or you
could peet milk with knives in it, as we used to say, and this
would sharpen you up and make you ready for a bit of dirty
twenty-to-one, and that was what we were peeting this even-
ing I'm starting off the story with.
Our pockets were full of deng, so there was no real need
from the point of view of crasting any more pretty polly to
tolchock some old veck in an alley and viddy him swim in his
blood while we counted the takings and divided by four, nor
to do the ultra-violent on some shivering starry grey-haired
ptitsa in a shop and go smecking off with the till's guts. But, as
they say, money isn't everything.
The four of us were dressed in the height of fashion,
which in those days was a pair of black very tight tights with
the old jelly mould, as we called it, fitting on the crotch
underneath the tights, this being to protect and also a sort of
a design you could viddy clear enough in a certain light, so
that I had one in the shape of a spider, Pete had a rooker (a
hand, that is), Georgie had a very fancy one of a flower, and
poor old Dim had a very hound-and-horny one of a clown's
litso (face, that is). Dim not ever having much of an idea of
things and being, beyond all shadow of a doubting thomas,
the dimmest of we four. Then we wore waisty jackets without
lapels but with these very big built-up shoulders ('pletchoes'
we called them) which were a kind of a mockery of having real
shoulders like that. Then, my brothers, we had these off-white
cravats which looked like whipped-up kartoffel or spud with a
sort of a design made on it with a fork. We wore our hair not
too long and we had flip horrorshow boots for kicking.
"What's it going to be then, eh?"
There were three devotchkas sitting at the counter all
together, but there were four of us malchicks and it was
usually like one for all and all for one. These sharps were
dressed in the heighth of fashion too, with purple and green
and orange wigs on their gullivers, each one not costing less
than three or four weeks of those sharps' wages, I should
reckon, and make-up to match (rainbows round the glazzies,
that is, and the rot painted very wide). Then they had long
black very straight dresses, and on the groody part of them
they had little badges of like silver with different malchicks'
names on them - Joe and Mike and suchlike. These were sup-
posed to be the names of the different malchicks they'd
spatted with before they were fourteen. They kept looking
our way and I nearly felt like saying the three of us (out of the
corner of my rot, that is) should go off for a bit of pol and
leave poor old Dim behind, because it would be just a matter
of kupetting Dim a demi-litre of white but this time with a
dollop of synthemesc in it, but that wouldn't really have been
playing like the game. Dim was very very ugly and like his
name, but he was a horrorshow filthy fighter and very handy
with the boot.
"What's it going to be then, eh?"
The chelloveck sitting next to me, there being this long big
plushy seat that ran round three walls, was well away with his
glazzies glazed and sort of burbling slovos like "Aristotle
wishy washy works outing cyclamen get forficulate smartish".
He was in the land all right, well away, in orbit, and I knew
what it was like, having tried it like everybody else had done,
but at this time I'd got to thinking it was a cowardly sort of a
veshch, O my brothers. You'd lay there after you'd drunk the
old moloko and then you got the messel that everything all
round you was sort of in the past. You could viddy it all right,
all of it, very clear - tables, the stereo, the lights, the sharps
and the malchicks - but it was like some veshch that used to
be there but was not there not no more. And you were sort of
hypnotized by your boot or shoe or a finger-nail as it might
be, and at the same time you were sort of picked up by the old
scruff and shook like you might be a cat. You got shook and
shook till there was nothing left. You lost your name and
your body and your self and you just didn't care, and you
waited until your boot or finger-nail got yellow, then
yellower and yellower all the time. Then the lights started
cracking like atomics and the boot or finger-nail or, as it
might be, a bit of dirt on your trouser-bottom turned into a
big big big mesto, bigger than the whole world, and you were
just going to get introduced to old Bog or God when it was
all over. You came back to here and now whimpering sort of,
with your rot all squaring up for a boohoohoo. Now that's
very nice but very cowardly. You were not put on this earth
just to get in touch with God. That sort of thing could sap all
the strength and the goodness out of a chelloveck.
"What's it going to be then, eh?"
The stereo was on and you got the idea that the singer's
goloss was moving from one part of the bar to another,
flying up to the ceiling and then swooping down again and
whizzing from wall to wall. It was Berti Laski rasping a real
starry oldie called 'You Blister My Paint'. One of the three
ptitsas at the counter, the one with the green wig, kept push-
ing her belly out and pulling it in in time to what they called
the music. I could feel the knives in the old moloko starting
to prick, and now I was ready for a bit of twenty-to-one. So I
yelped: "Out out out out!" like a doggie, and then I cracked
this veck who was sitting next to me and well away and
burbling a horrorshow crack on the ooko or earhole, but he
didn't feel it and went on with his "Telephonic hardware and
when the farfarculule gets rubadubdub". He'd feel it all right
when he came to, out of the land.
"Where out?" said Georgie.
"Oh, just to keep walking," I said, "and viddy what turns up,
O my little brothers."
So we scatted out into the big winter nochy and walked
down Marghanita Boulevard and then turned into Boothby
Avenue, and there we found what we were pretty well looking
for, a malenky jest to start off the evening with. There was a
doddery starry schoolmaster type veck, glasses on and his rot
open to the cold nochy air. He had books under his arm and a
crappy umbrella and was coming round the corner from the
Public Biblio, which not many lewdies used these days. You
never really saw many of the older bourgeois type out after
nightfall those days, what with the shortage of police and we
fine young malchickiwicks about, and this prof type chello-
veck was the only one walking in the whole of the street. So
we goolied up to him, very polite, and I said: "Pardon me,
brother."
He looked a malenky bit poogly when he viddied the four
of us like that, coming up so quiet and polite and smiling, but
he said: "Yes? What is it?" in a very loud teacher-type goloss,
as if he was trying to show us he wasn't poogly. I said:
"I see you have books under your arm, brother. It is indeed
a rare pleasure these days to come across somebody that still
reads, brother."
"Oh," he said, all shaky. "Is it? Oh, I see." And he kept look-
ing from one to the other of we four, finding himself now like
in the middle of a very smiling and polite square.
"Yes," I said. "It would interest me greatly, brother, if you
would kindly allow me to see what books those are that you
have under your arm. I like nothing better in this world than a
good clean book, brother."
"Clean," he said. "Clean, eh?" And then Pete skvatted these
three books from him and handed them round real skorry.
Being three, we all had one each to viddy at except for Dim.
The one I had was called 'Elementary Crystallography', so I
opened it up and said: "Excellent, really first-class," keeping
turning the pages. Then I said in a very shocked type goloss:
"But what is this here? What is this filthy slovo? I blush to
look at this word. You disappoint me, brother, you do
really."
"But," he tried, "but, but."
"Now," said Georgie, "here is what I should call real dirt.
There's one slovo beginning with an f and another with a c."
He had a book called 'The Miracle of the Snowflake.'
"Oh," said poor old Dim, smotting over Pete's shoulder and
going too far, like he always did, "it says here what he done to
her, and there's a picture and all. Why," he said, "you're
nothing but a filthy-minded old skitebird."
"An old man of your age, brother," I said, and I started to
rip up the book I'd got, and the others did the same with the
ones they had. Dim and Pete doing a tug-of-war with 'The
Rhombohedral System'. The starry prof type began to creech:
"But those are not mine, those are the property of the mu-
nicipality, this is sheer wantonness and vandal work," or some
such slovos. And he tried to sort of wrest the books back off
of us, which was like pathetic. "You deserve to be taught a
lesson, brother," I said, "that you do." This crystal book I had
was very tough-bound and hard to razrez to bits, being real
starry and made in days when things were made to last like,
but I managed to rip the pages up and chuck them in handfuls
of like snowflakes, though big, all over this creeching old
veck, and then the others did the same with theirs, old Dim
just dancing about like the clown he was. "There you are," said
Pete. "There's the mackerel of the cornflake for you, you dirty
reader of filth and nastiness."
"You naughty old veck, you," I said, and then we began to
filly about with him. Pete held his rookers and Georgie sort
of hooked his rot wide open for him and Dim yanked out his
false zoobies, upper and lower. He threw these down on the
pavement and then I treated them to the old boot-crush,
though they were hard bastards like, being made of some new
horrorshow plastic stuff. The old veck began to make sort of
chumbling shooms - "wuf waf wof" - so Georgie let go of
holding his goobers apart and just let him have one in the
toothless rot with his ringy fist, and that made the old veck
start moaning a lot then, then out comes the blood, my
brothers, real beautiful. So all we did then was to pull his
outer platties off, stripping him down to his vest and long
underpants (very starry; Dim smecked his head off near), and
then Pete kicks him lovely in his pot, and we let him go. He
went sort of staggering off, it not having been too hard of a
tolchock really, going "Oh oh oh", not knowing where or
what was what really, and we had a snigger at him and then
riffled through his pockets, Dim dancing round with his
crappy umbrella meanwhile, but there wasn't much in them.
There were a few starry letters, some of them dating right
back to 1960 with "My dearest dearest" in them and all that
chepooka, and a keyring and a starry leaky pen. Old Dim gave
up his umbrella dance and of course had to start reading one
of the letters out loud, like to show the empty street he could
read. "My darling one," he recited, in this very high type
goloss, "I shall be thinking of you while you are away and
hope you will remember to wrap up warm when you go out
at night." Then he let out a very shoomny smeck - "Ho ho ho"
- pretending to start wiping his yahma with it. "All right," I
said. "Let it go, O my brothers." In the trousers of this starry
veck there was only a malenky bit of cutter (money, that is) -
not more than three gollies - so we gave all his messy little
coin the scatter treatment, it being hen-korm to the amount
of pretty polly we had on us already. Then we smashed the
umbrella and razrezzed his platties and gave them to the
blowing winds, my brothers, and then we'd finished with the
starry teacher type veck. We hadn't done much, I know, but
that was only like the start of the evening and I make no appy
polly loggies to thee or thine for that. The knives in the milk
plus were stabbing away nice and horrorshow now.
The next thing was to do the sammy act, which was one
way to unload some of our cutter so we'd have more of an
incentive like for some shop-crasting, as well as it being a way
of buying an alibi in advance, so we went into the Duke of
New York on Amis Avenue and sure enough in the snug there
were three or four old baboochkas peeting their black and
suds on SA (State Aid). Now we were the very good mal-
chicks, smiling good evensong to one and all, though these
wrinkled old lighters started to get all shook, their veiny old
rookers all trembling round their glasses, and making the suds
spill on the table. "Leave us be, lads," said one of them, her
face all mappy with being a thousand years old, "we're only
poor old women." But we just made with the zoobies, flash
flash flash, sat down, rang the bell, and waited for the boy to
come. When he came, all nervous and rubbing his rookers on
his grazzy apron, we ordered us four veterans - a veteran
being rum and cherry brandy mixed, which was popular just
then, some liking a dash of lime in it, that being the Canadian
variation. Then I said to the boy:
"Give these poor old baboochkas over there a nourishing
something. Large Scotchmen all round and something to take
away." And I poured my pocket of deng all over the table, and
the other three did likewise, O my brothers. So double
firegolds were bought in for the scared starry lighters, and
they knew not what to do or say. One of them got out
"Thanks, lads," but you could see they thought there was
something dirty like coming. Anyway, they were each given a
bottle of Yank General, cognac that is, to take away, and I
gave money for them to be delivered each a dozen of black
and suds that following morning, they to leave their stinking
old cheenas' addresses at the counter. Then with the cutter
that was left over we did purchase, my brothers, all the meat
pies, pretzels, cheese-snacks, crisps and chocbars in that
mesto, and those too were for the old sharps. Then we said:
"Back in a minoota," and the old ptitsas were still saying:
"Thanks, lads," and "God bless you, boys," and we were going
out without one cent of cutter in our carmans.
"Makes you feel real dobby, that does," said Pete. You could
viddy that poor old Dim the dim didn't quite pony all that,
but he said nothing for fear of being called gloopy and a
domeless wonderboy. Well, we went off now round the
corner to Attlee Avenue, and there was this sweets and cancers
shop still open. We'd left them alone near three months now
and the whole district had been very quiet on the whole, so
the armed millicents or rozz patrols weren't round there
much, being more north of the river these days. We put our
maskies on - new jobs these were, real horrorshow, wonder-
fully done really; they were like faces of historical per-
sonalities (they gave you the names when you bought) and I
had Disraeli, Pete had Elvis Presley, Georgie had Henry VIII
and poor old Dim had a poet veck called Peebee Shelley; they
were a real like disguise, hair and all, and they were some very
special plastic veshch so you could roll it up when you'd done
with it and hide it in your boot - then three of us went in.
Pete keeping chasso without, not that there was anything to
worry about out there. As soon as we launched on the shop
we went for Slouse who ran it, a big portwine jelly of a veck
who viddied at once what was coming and made straight for
the inside where the telephone was and perhaps his well-oiled
pooshka, complete with six dirty rounds. Dim was round that
counter skorry as a bird, sending packets of snoutie flying and
cracking over a big cut-out showing a sharp with all her
zoobies going flash at the customers and her groodies near
hanging out to advertise some new brand of cancers. What
you could viddy then was a sort of a big ball rolling into the
inside of the shop behind the curtain, this being old Dim and
Slouse sort of locked in a death struggle. Then you could
slooshy panting and snoring and kicking behind the curtain
and veshches falling over and swearing and then glass going
smash smash smash. Mother Slouse, the wife, was sort of
froze behind the counter. We could tell she would creech
murder given one chance, so I was round that counter very
skorry and had a hold of her, and a horrorshow big lump she
was too, all nuking of scent and with flipflop big bobbing
groodies on her. I'd got my rooker round her rot to stop her
belting out death and destruction to the four winds of
heaven, but this lady doggie gave me a large foul big bite on it
and it was me that did the creeching, and then she opened up
beautiful with a flip yell for the millicents. Well, then she had
to be tolchocked proper with one of the weights for the
scales, and then a fair tap with a crowbar they had for opening
cases, and that brought the red out like an old friend. So we
had her down on the floor and a rip of her platties for fun and
a gentle bit of the boot to stop her moaning. And, viddying
her lying there with her groodies on show, I wondered should
I or not, but that was for later on in the evening. Then we
cleaned the till, and there was flip horrorshow takings that
nochy, and we had a few packs of the very best top cancers
apiece, then off we went, my brothers.
"A real big heavy great bastard he was," Dim kept saying. I
didn't like the look of Dim: he looked dirty and untidy, like a
veck who'd been in a fight, which he had been, of course, but
you should never look as though you have been. His cravat
was like someone had trampled on it, his maskie had been
pulled off and he had floor-dirt on his litso, so we got him in
an alleyway and tidied him up a malenky bit, soaking our
tashtooks in spit to cheest the dirt off. The things we did for
old Dim. We were back in the Duke of New York very skorry
and I reckoned by my watch we hadn't been more than ten
minutes away. The starry old baboochkas were still there on
the black and suds and Scotchmen we'd bought them, and we
said: "Hallo there, girlies, what's it going to be?" They started
on the old "Very kind, lads, God bless you, boys," and so we
rang the collocol and brought a different waiter in this time
and we ordered beers with rum in, being sore athirst, my
brothers, and whatever the old ptitsas wanted. Then I said to
the old baboochkas: "We haven't been out of here, have we?
Been here all the time, haven't we?" They all caught on real
skorry and said:
"That's right, lads. Not been out of our sight, you haven't.
God bless you, boys," drinking.
Not that it mattered much, really. About half an hour went
by before there was any sign of life among the millicents, and
then it was only two very young rozzes that came in, very
pink under their big copper's shlemmies. One said:
"You lot know anything about the happenings at Slouse's
shop this night?"
"Us?" I said, innocent. "Why, what happened?"
"Stealing and roughing. Two hospitalizations. Where've
you lot been this evening?"
"I don't go for that nasty tone," I said. "I don't care much
for these nasty insinuations. A very suspicious nature all this
betokeneth, my little brothers."
"They've been in here all night, lads," the old sharps started
to creech out. "God bless them, there's no better lot of boys
living for kindness and generosity. Been here all the time they
have. Not seen them move we haven't."
"We're only asking," said the other young millicent. "We've
got our job to do like anyone else." But they gave us the nasty
warning look before they went out. As they were going out
we handed them a bit of lip-music: brrrrzzzzrrrr. But, myself, I
couldn't help a bit of disappointment at things as they were
those days. Nothing to fight against really. Everything as easy
as kiss-my-sharries. Still, the night was still very young.
old enough to set the table, old enough to pass the meat
YourMissionForToday: Quicktime probably won't help you find love
YourMissionForToday: I suggest becoming Spider-Man
coed.jpg: But I'm batman
YourMissionForToday: It might be time to transition your servers to Spider-Man. Netcraft's latest survey says that *Batman accounts for less than 1% of allservers on the internet
coed.jpg: Batman was fighting hax0rz when spiderman was shittin yellow
YourMissionForToday: Yes, but Spider-Man is infinitely more scalable, offers volume discounts for licensing and has new Sticky-Web(TM) software
YourMissionForToday: http://store.sun.com/catalog/doc/BrowsePage.jhtml; $sessionid$LPKWARRPH0GHLAMTA1ESTGT5AAAACJ1K?cid=80 487 refer to this page for more info
coed.jpg: spider-man is a hacked-together superhero. just some guy with a freak mutation. batman was built from the ground up by dedicated professionals and strong financial backing to be a quality superhero
YourMissionForToday: I won't deny that Batman was very much ahead of his time, and if this was 1996, I'd probably be recommending him. But this is 2002, Spider-Man's working better than ever, and capturing market share from tons of low and medium end businesses everywhere
coed.jpg: well first of all, market share is no indicator of a superhero's quality. just because there are millions of petty crimes for spider man to make right doesn't mean he's a better superhero. meanwhile, batman has better resources tailored specifically for doing his job well. he's the real superhero for mission-critical applications
YourMissionForToday: You can't deny Spider-Man's continued profitibility year after year. He squashed Dr. Octopus and was hailed as the savior of Wall Street. Meanwhile, Batman is hacking around in his garage, trying to tweak his Batmobile hour after hour. Is that really the superhero you want to send to your clients?
YourMissionForToday: http://www.sun.com/desktop/products/graphics/sunvi deoplus.html
coed.jpg: are we trying to save Wall Street or the people of Gotham City? I dunno about you, but when i'm at the hands of a villain i don't want to put my life in the hands of some teenager who happens to know something about fighting crime. i want a trained professional who makes it his job to offer stable and robust crime-fighting powers.
coed.jpg: and it's not like batman's license is as restrictive as people make it seem. in fact, spider-man's license is probably even more restrictive. he wants you to call him no matter what the crime. batman's license may not require the revelation of bruce wayne's identity, but i'm still free to make use of batman's products to meet all my needs. and personally, i don't care if bruce wayne keeps himself a secret, as long as he's the best fighter of crime
YourMissionForToday: The truth is, Batman just isn't very scalable. He's great for low-end crimefighting such as your Joker or Riddler, but if he were to take on guys like the Shocker or Venom, you could expect hours of configuration headaches as he picks out the correct tool from his Bat-arsenal. With Spider-Man, all the tools you need are already pre-loaded
coed.jpg: i think you're confusing "scalable" with "bloated." spider man isn't better just because he has to carry every single one of his limited and hackish tools with him everywhere he goes. Yeah, batman is a more sophisticated crimefighter, with a wide variety of specialized tools. but how often is a crime ever really a surprise? batman actually knows something about the criminal he's fighting, and he takes the time to plan out his strategy. yeah, spiderman is fine for a wide variety of small-time applications, but when it can't be done with spidey-sense, you need the console back at the bat-cave. don't blame batman if you can't figure out what you're doing before you try to fight a crime
YourMissionForToday: Spider-Man's not overloaded with tools. For example, he only uses the Spider-Man belt signal if its appropriate for his job. In addition to the industry acclaimed Spider-Sense(TM), he also developed his own webbling fluid in house, which is provided free to all customers, regardless of volume. Can Batman make any claims like that?
coed.jpg: come on, batman INVENTED the utility belt and just about anything you'll find on one today. that's what happens when you back a project with some private funding. Granted, it's cool that spiderman has the webbing built right in. but you can't deny batman's more modular approach. you always know batman's tools will work with one another, which can't always be said for spiderman. his web can stick to some impossible things, but not everything. but there's not much that batman can't grapple if he has the right hook.
YourMissionForToday: Batman's glory days are long past. I mean, sure he invented the utility belt, but when has he UPDATED it? I wouldn't be surprised to find a Bat-Hourglass in there! LOL!
coed.jpg: funny, i didn't think spiderman had a timepiece whatsoever
YourMissionForToday: during normal operation, Spider-Man is in view of number of clocks? Why waste space when he doesn't have to
coed.jpg: Yeah but what happens when there are no clocks? Batman's utility belt with his bat-clock comes in mighty handy. but the point here is not clocks, it's about whther you want a robust crime fighting system or a flashy newcomer that hasn't quite got all his powers sorted out yet. i mean which would you rather have, some kid that can swing from buildings with his own excretions, or the bat-copter?
YourMissionForToday: Let's not let this degenerate into mere flaming.
Liberate your mind in two clicks or less.
For this to be any good, the signal path must be pure optics, e.g. the same photon must go all the way thru the switch, and just be routed around. That means the switch would have to understand the rays of light out my 100baseFX network, or fibrechannel bus, and deal with it in photonic form.
;-)
This solves EMF issues, and other nasties. Electronics could be used for low speed control, and indicators, but fibre be used for ALL high speed stuff, including PCB traces and everything else.
Anybody developed optical solder yet...
-twb
you'll find that the Red Herring story continues on after the MSNBC article stops.
with silicon, and can the same fabrication plants acutally work on both materials?
They continue to look for additional ways to make optical communications even cheaper through applications of their integrated photonic circuit.
___
Wow, Infinera seems to be on to something here. It is a company based solely on making a product, making it better, then trying again to make things work better. I wonder what Micro$oft would have to say if they heard of this idea.
"Do you remember how we won the Second World War?
We cracked their codes and we never let them know."
        --Dr. Robert Thibodeau
Be a man! View at -1
acm.cs.uwec.edu
I read the article -- verbatim -- in Red Herring's printed rag. There's no meat to that article. What exactly is it that this thumb-sized chip does, and how/where will this device be used (to reduce cost, or increase functionality, or increase circuit density per rack, or...) in the optical systems being deployed by the optical carriers?
Does this chip offer SONET layer switching (or muxing/demuxing)? SONET layer Performance Monitoring? Does it bring anything to the DWDM playing field, in either the long-haul or metro arenas?
Optical carriers buy optical transmission and switching systems, not components, with accompanying network management platforms to operate, integrate, and manage it.
I ask again, where's the beef? As it is, this is just a glorified press release.
Andy
...This one keeps the flow going pretty steadily. :-D
CAn'T CompreHend SARcaSm?
what we need are isolinear chips and optronic relays
maybe throw in a few bioneural gelpacks
Does he rate an imposter?
it will become reliable with time. IC industry folks need to keep all options open.
But while the current theory holds that mass is invariant, the particle's _energy_ (which, when you think about it, is what you're worried about anyway) is most certainly not invariant. Since these little fellows are zipping along at a literally astronomic clip, even the "massless" photon has energy. IIRC, experiemental data held the mass of a photon as being something like 3.9x10^-(12?15?) that of the already quite svelte electron... ;-))
Electric fields generate magnetic fields, and both can in theory interfere with the propagation of electromagnetic waves, which are the other side of the photon coin (really, at that level, what is a wave? what is a particle? they're two ways of looking at the same thing. actually this is valid all size levels, but the wave/particle duality effects for anything larger than an angel's behind is vanishing, incredibly, stunningly small)
Besides, I was under the impression that quantum tunneling was the origin of some of the migration patterns in (or should I say through?) circuits. The lighter a particle is, the more prone it is to this "now I'm here, FOOLED YA! now I'm there" behavior... I'm too lazy to go dig up my pchem text, i'm sure somebody will follow up with a more precise explanation and some of the relevant equations. (I'm not a particle physicist, just a chemist, but we do rub elbows occasionally, much like every now and again a molecular biologist will talk to the chemists next door
This is not to say this isn't a cool advance. It's just that I'm even more curious now as to how they got the magic chip to work, given what I imagine the physical and technical hurdles were...
News for Geeks in Austin, TX
For those who can't remember this movie here is a short summary:
Adam Maitland (Alec Baldwin) and Barbara Maitland (Geena Davis) drown as a result of a car accident. They come back as ghosts and must haunt their old house. They are dismayed when they find out that the artsy fartsy Deitz family and their gothic daughter are now living in the Maitlands' home. The Maitlands hire looney ghost Beetlejuice (Michael Keaton), to rid the Deitz family from their house, but he has other plans. I won't spoil the plot, but this movie is a must see classic. The movie has an original feel, excellent soundtrack, and is absolutely hilarious. Definatly Michael Keaton's best work. Still waiting for a sequel....
There are plenty of test and measurement equipment available for the optical market. Look around Agilent's T&M lightwave page.
Unfortunately no. But that woudl be cool to breadboard a optical circut. Unfortunately we have to resort to special cutting and polishing tools just to connect a few components together.
How to piss a optical network admin off: go to the long haul switch and yank a few wires out, they will be there for hours redoing all the lines.
*Sigh*...
This InP technology is not going to be replacing Si anytime soon. Si is wonderful and there's still quite a bit more we can squeeze out of it before we've reached the limits of such technology. This company is using InP because like many III-V semiconductor compounds, it has good optical properties.
If the original poster had taken the time to actually read the thing, maybe he would have realized that this is an important step forward in terms of optical switching and networks. This device performs one or more of the functions necessary for this type of work (there are 5 of 'em if I read the article right). Silicon is no good in this regard since it's an indirect gap semiconductor.
> Yes but when will they have microchips than can control the flow of beer?
I don't know about that, but AI thought experiments include a device that mimics a human brain made via buckets of water, poured. I suppose buckets of beer could work just as well keeping the brain moving along at a steady clip.
"Has [being a kidnapped teenage girl, raped repeatedly for months] changed you?" - Katie Couric to Elizabeth Smart
Hrm, If the SSSCA passes as is, it will dissallow "electonic digital" devices from being used without copy protection. But it dosn't say anything about optical digital devices :P
autopr0n is like, down and stuff.
With silicone, can the same fabrication plants actually reproduce Pamela Anderson?
Star Trek: Voyager is dying.
Yet another crippling bombshell hit the beleaguered Star Trek: Voyager community when last month Nielsen confirmed that Star Trek: Voyager accounts for less than a fraction of 1 percent of all viewers. Coming on the heels of the latest Netcraft survey which plainly states that Star Trek: Voyager has lost more market share, this news serves to reinforce what we've known all along.
You don't need to be a Kreskin to predict Star Trek: Voyager future. The hand writing is on the wall: Star Trek: Voyager faces a bleak future. In fact there won't be any future at all for Star Trek: Voyager because Star Trek: Voyager is dying. Things are looking very bad for Star Trek: Voyager. As many of us are already aware, Star Trek: Voyager continues to lose market share. Red ink flows like a river of blood. Tuvok is the most endangered of them all.
Let's keep to the facts and look at the numbers.
Star Trek: Voyager producer Rick Berman states that there are 7000 viewers of Star Trek: Voyager. How many fans of Tuvok are there? Let's see. The number of Star Trek: Voyager versus Chakotay-specific posts on Usenet is roughly in ratio of 5 to 1. Therefore there are about 7000/5 = 1400 Tuvok fans. Tuvok posts on Usenet are about half of the volume of Chakotay-specific posts. Therefore there are about 700 Tuvok fans. A recent article put Seven of Nine at about 80 percent of the Star Trek: Voyager fanbase. Therefore there are (7000+1400+700)*4 = 36400 Seven of Nine fans. This is consistent with the number of Seven of Nine Usenet posts. Due to the troubles of Paramount, abysmal ratings and so on, Star Trek: Voyager was ended as a series and the syndication rights were sold to another troubled company. Now that company is also dead, its corpse turned over to another charnel house. All major surveys show that Star Trek: Voyager has steadily declined in the ratings. Star Trek: Voyager is very sick and its long term survival prospects are very dim. If Star Trek: Voyager is to survive at all it will be among hardcore Star Trek nerd fucks who are hoping to see Seven of Nine in a bikini. Star Trek: Voyager continues to decay. Nothing short of a miracle could save it at this point in time.
Star Trek: Voyager is dying.
What these guys are doing is hardly unique. Take a look at Luxtera.
hot grits, linux, freebsd, M$, conspiracy theory, the shrub, beowolf cluster, and ___ post.
I'm a troll and proud of it mod me -4
can you process with this chip? or is it only good for switching and stuff.