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Matrox Parhelia 512 Preview
SpinnerBait writes "Finally, you don't have to sift through all the unreleased and unauthorized
bogus information around the net about Matrox's upcoming 3D Graphics chip,
called the Parhelia 512. Matrox has taken the wraps off their next
generation GPU and
this Preview over at HotHardware goes through its feature set with a fine
toothed comb.
They also give you a very rare glimpse inside Matrox's Montreal Headquarters,
as well as a look at some very impressive technology demos, rendered on their
new chip. Looks like impressive stuff for sure."
because I did it
Mandi's voluptuous curves emphasised the singlemindedness of a Reaganite generation. Her wholesome rump, which would do a farmer proud in even the most competitive Texan meat markets, once again interrupted my field of vision to the birds perching nonchalantly on the roof of the opposite building. Two years, three months, four days and one hour into my job at dotcomrevolution.com, and the word on the seventh floor was that the VC's were about to cut off our air supply. These gulls were my only break from the monotony of BSD server administration, and Mandi had to be punished for her countless intrusive hours at the photocopier.
"Your ass is blocking my view," I mumbled.
"What did you say?" she roared. Well, it was more an angry squeak than a raw. I just had to block out the irritating, high-pitched whine that characterised all Mandi's replies, and my instincts caused my right hand to jump onto the air conditioning knob for the server room, turning it up to full blast.
"You -- that again -- I'll -- the manager!" she continued, her voice drowned out by the healthy whir of the most expensive fans in Christendom. I looked at her and grinned. "I can't think -- that -- noise! Turn -- off now!" She was trying to keep her cool (an act made all the easier by the now exceptional air conditioning), but even a blind man could have felt the heat from her cheeks as they began to turn a rosy red with rage.
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Mandy," I responded. I guess she looked like more of a Dave than a Mandy, her smooth but noticeably dark follicles of facial hair contrasting with her pasty skin under the lifeless fluorescence of office lighting, but she would not have understood the reference anyway.
With that, I turned back to my console and resumed my xtank session. But what was this? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw water begin to drip out of the corner of Mandy's eye, while she was sitting in my assistant's chair. (Well, I called it the assistant's chair, I had not actually had an assistant since late 1999, when I selected him to be the scapegoat for my rather poor backup schedule.)
"Why must you always make fun of me? I'm just trying to do my job," she blubbed. Sitting close to me now, not even $10,000 of Taiwanese ventilation could block out her piercing tone. "Ever since I got this job the guys here have made fun of me for my shape, why can't they just respect me for who I am."
A change of heart that would have made Montgomery Burns proud caused me to stand up and walk over to the wreck. I wanted to explain this rationally to her, in terms of the mating habits of the human male, and the desire for a woman fit for childbearing and housework, but there was no time for that (it was ten minutes to five). "I'm sorry," I uttered, and rested my hand on Mandy's shoulder, fearing a lawsuit.
Mandy stood up, and without hesitation put her arms round me, whispering, "Thank you." I reciprocated, grateful for a secure office lacking in inside windows. Instead of letting go, she squeezed me harder, and her tears began to stain the shoulder of my designer shirt. I motioned to back away, and in doing so my hand slipped downwards, brushing against her behind.
"I'm not so repulsive, am I?" she questioned.
I was racking my brain for a diplomatic response. "I guess there are advantages to looking at you over the gulls and the hypnotising router LEDs," I confessed. "And unlike with the routers, I'm not called out when you break down. And you don't leave a mess on the roof..."
"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever told me," she interrupted. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
(I'm a geek. Do you have a girlfriend? Exactly.)
"I'm, um, er.. I'm playing the field," was my closest attempt at honesty without offending my manhood. "I dont like to deprive others of my attention by focussing too much on one person."
"That's a shame," she said, and then her tone of voice changed completely. "Because I was so hoping to score before next week's lay-off."
"NEXT WEEK?" There was no chance that I would be able to return my home-brewed Beowulf cluster of 'borrowed' workstations so soon, and I had expected at least two week's warning from management. "Oh, and I know about your Beowulf cluster," she whispered, "but I'm sure I can use my special relationship with your boss to make it easier for you to return the equipment. The question is, what can you do for me?"
to be continued...
Bet CounterStrike will cruise on that puppy!!!
Well, last night I saw the new Star Wasrs film, and believe me you, it rocks!
Let me explain.
A buddy of mine works at a digital theatre. He's often come through for me before, burning me divx copies of the newest releases, etc. Anyhow, last night he calls up and asks if I was busy, and if not, did I want to see AoTC. I figured he downloaded on of the pirate copies and jury-rigged it up to the digital projector, and eclined his offer, since I thought TPM was one of the worst movies ever (let's face it, "Dude Where's My Car" had a better storyline). He claimed it was the real thing though, and that DreamWorks SKG had screwed up and sent out some copies early. Furthermore, there would be half a dozen geek chicks that he would need some help with.
MY gf was out of town for the night, and I had just started recompiling the linux kernel (with Gunther Lutefisk's XFree86 kernel integration patch (so the framebuffer can run in ring 0 without the overhead of shared memory)), which would take all night, so I figured why not.
Boy am I glad I did. Steven Spielberg seems to have listened to the complaints from TPM. The visual effects are stunning, but this time here's a story to tell as well. Jar-Jar is no longer so annoying, and the crass commercialization is largely absent (ie - Senator/Princess Pagma Amadalia no longer drinks Pepsi). The timeless elements of forbidden love, teen angst, and lienation make for a moving story.
I suggest you watch it as soon as you can.
GOD DAMN! 21 fucking comments, and it's _ALREADY_ slashdotted.
try talking to Kyle at hardocp, he has some experience with this
Than.
...more processing power THAN my two PC's combined!
...I know less about them THAN all those US based company...
Thanks for your attention.
"Would it kill you to put down the toilet seat?" -- Maya Angelou