it's not simple, but neither is it extremely difficult. the factors he cites are important, and sang froid is much more important than technical analysis if you're playing with your own money. however, from one example you can conclude basically nothing.
if just 1,000 people all invested their entire savings in a single double-zero roulette roll, you're almost guaranteed to have a few very lucky winners. does this mean it was a good idea? and is it that unreasonable to think there are about 1,000 similar people who tried exactly what this person did, and failed?
there really is no baseline here for a meaningful comparison, and some people do just get lucky. there's that old joke about applying to work for N banks and making a different prediction about a fixed set, S, of stocks to each one; if N=2^|S|, you'll sweep one of them, guaranteed.
having a large liquidity pool also simply lets you make high-risk investments that others literally can't. there's nothing intrinsically wrong with this, but neither should you conclude that individual merit is the driving factor.
the article is a puff-piece. the better question to ask about articles like this is "why are they making a big deal out of it right now?". you sometimes get some interesting and disturbing connections, especially when the correlations unfold in the following few months. it rarely has much to do with the putative content.
oh, don't bother. you can't resolve every stupid nitpick people bring up, and even if you did no one will bother reading past the "+5, Insightful" nitpick anyway.
on OS X it's just cmd-space to bring up the spotlight, and then you start typing "terminal" until it auto-completes, which is probably after "ter" (or even "te" unless you use textedit often). spotlight is awesome.
uh-huh, there are plenty of other folks with engineering degrees and good grades who are doing great at life.
it should be obvious to anyone with intelligence that intelligence is not in itself sufficient for, well, pretty much anything. why don't you tell us what the real problem is?
well, yeah, children are dumb; even, or especially, the smart ones.
however, Livius said "I've still seen very few environments where [intelligence isn't a liability], and all of those only well after childhood."
for a grown adult, this is just pathetic (without mitigating factors, at least). even Spock could occasionally pretend not to be autistic when it was to the advantage of his commission.
Or maybe you're not actually that smart. Or maybe you never bothered to learn how to change things, perhaps due to some inefficient ethics you were indoctrinated with?
these "safety bunkers" are called "lobbies" by normal people. you know, how gas stations have air-conditioned stores inside where you can buy coffee and soda? you can still afford gas, can't you?
it doesn't really matter whether it helps or not. Congress has the Constitutional power to grant patents; end of story.
what you'd have to do is get a Constitutional Amendment, rather than rant on slashdot (unless that's the best you can do toward that end, in which case, go ahead). in this case, the burden is on you to either fix it or move elsewhere.
well, yeah, fedgov doesn't really want Assange dead (what good would it do?), let alone to the point of murdering someone under diplomatic protection in a foreign country. shit, we probably wouldn't even kill Osama bin Laden if he were under European protection (not that he would get it in the first place, but this is a hypothetical).
however, that doesn't mean Sweden wouldn't want to score some cheap brownie points by throwing Assange to the wolves, and we certainly wouldn't turn it down.
Yeah, I summarize this sometimes by suggesting that the real political problem is that we've overvalued human life, and everyone has their own solutions to this. That is to say, rather than the real cost in terms of life itself and the environment, Californians have calculated the "real cost" for our stable lifestyle. If we are going to compete (and who says we have to?), it would be necessary to sacrifice the lifestyle.
i've noticed this too. it's a weird combination of things.
: The fetishization of China by certain weirdos as a place of 'economic liberty' (lol), or at least something worth kowtowing to, just in case. : The fear of appearing racist. This is due to a confusion of China (the culture) with Chinese (the race). In a bit of amusing irony, this confusion comes partly from the intense xenophobia of the Chinese culture itself. Here's a hint: corruption and brutality are not strongly heritable traits. : False liberal humility. : And finally, organized forum postings by patriotic and/or compensated agents. Seriously, check for ACs and the recently-registered.
"But the fun has just begun!", Steve continued, as he brusquely pulled his black turtleneck® over his head in a practiced motion. He lunged over the thick beige desk with routed edges, not yet replaced by the rounded-edged white lucite monolith to come in the next decades.
The candidate, already disoriented, was now frozen still in shock. Burrell and I were not completely surprised, and began casually walking toward the door before being 'asked' to participate in what was to come. Burrell, known for his grace under pressure during many of our Forced Marches in marathon coding sessions for the Apple Lisa, glanced over at the minibar. Following his glance, we were assured that The MacAllan 30 was full and the rectal funnel was sterilized and wrapped, and we continued more confidently to the egress as we heard the loud 'thud' of the applicant's chair hitting the ground, pivoted under the force of a pouncing Steve Jobs.
Burrell opened the door fluidly, hoping not to draw attention. I dared a look back, not entirely unlike Lot's wife as I mused at the time; Steve's hands were already at work. His dominant right hand was wrapped around the poor candidate's throat, as his left hand reached downward, pulling at the man's pants zipper. Half mesmerized I listlessly walked through the door, my head unconsciously craning at the sight in morbid curiosity. Already, the candidate had submitted, possibly in relief and hope at a prestigious position, as his pants began to descend. Steve raised his head, and terror struck. I frantically pivoted my head forward though I knew what I had done. A chill ran down my spine.
The last I saw was Steve throwing me the thumbs-up before reaching into his own tailored jeans pocket. As the heavy door both clicked and thudded solidly behind me, I realized that I'd been holding my breath. Sighing deeply, my next thought was that the 'woomp-ka-chunk' of the door would make a fantastic System Alert sound for the new Mac OS 8. As I set myself to think about how to requisition a microphone and similar door for my own office, my thoughts strayed. The candidate was being initiated on both fronts, I thought, as my own manhood stiffened. Steve would retrieve his "Shiva" LSD from the left pocket of his custom-frayed jeans and then proceed to unbutton himself.
Like all Apple employees, I had become intimately aware of Steve's endowment. For the sake of posterity I will avoid details, but allow me only to suggest that the sledgehammer in the infamous "1984" ad was, in fact, molded after the proportions of our own dear leader.
I turned my head to Burrell and we both bowed our heads. In my case, it was mostly sympathy; the poor candidate might think that this was just a rough initiation, a baptism by fire, and look forward to more wholesome days. We knew, of course, to "think different". We'd chuckled nervously to ourselves when TBWA\Chiat\Day pitched the slogan a few weeks ago. If they'd only known how right they were.
Burrell went right, as I took the left-hand path. My erection throbbed in a revolting mixture of sympathy and schadenfreude, but by cleverly pivoting my body to the left, I was able to hide it from clear sight. I reached my office in the space of a single breath and opened the door. It was a disappointing hollow slab of beige metal, offering no resistance to my push. I thought again, and hoped fervently that my requisition order would go through. In cock or mind, I could never have a shade on our leader, but how it would buoy my weary soul to mimic him in any way... even just a similar mahogany door!
As I entered, the door fell back on itself. I heard, or maybe just imagined, the candidate's howl as his rectum collapsed under repeated thrusting. Steve would have already fed him the acid, and at this point would have worked his shaft at least half-way in. If a tree falls in the forest, does anyone hear it? In any case, the sounds would end soon. Mostly for the candidate's benefit, Steve would soon withdraw and masturbate to completion into his mouth. A mi
Slashdot Mirror
it's not simple, but neither is it extremely difficult. the factors he cites are important, and sang froid is much more important than technical analysis if you're playing with your own money. however, from one example you can conclude basically nothing.
if just 1,000 people all invested their entire savings in a single double-zero roulette roll, you're almost guaranteed to have a few very lucky winners. does this mean it was a good idea? and is it that unreasonable to think there are about 1,000 similar people who tried exactly what this person did, and failed?
there really is no baseline here for a meaningful comparison, and some people do just get lucky. there's that old joke about applying to work for N banks and making a different prediction about a fixed set, S, of stocks to each one; if N=2^|S|, you'll sweep one of them, guaranteed.
having a large liquidity pool also simply lets you make high-risk investments that others literally can't. there's nothing intrinsically wrong with this, but neither should you conclude that individual merit is the driving factor.
the article is a puff-piece. the better question to ask about articles like this is "why are they making a big deal out of it right now?". you sometimes get some interesting and disturbing connections, especially when the correlations unfold in the following few months. it rarely has much to do with the putative content.
it also doesn't contain any oil, but it does contain propylene glycol which is derived from petroleum (or other fossil fuels).
oh, don't bother. you can't resolve every stupid nitpick people bring up, and even if you did no one will bother reading past the "+5, Insightful" nitpick anyway.
fuck this place.
admittedly, this usage doesn't really show how impressive spotlight is, so read the last sentence as an auxiliary statement, not a conclusion. :)
but, yes, spotlight is by far the best indexing/search tool i've used on any platform.
isn't it wonderful to have such freedom of choice?!
on OS X it's just cmd-space to bring up the spotlight, and then you start typing "terminal" until it auto-completes, which is probably after "ter" (or even "te" unless you use textedit often). spotlight is awesome.
without US political and military might, Microsoft wouldn't be nearly as safe doing business abroad as they are now.
i don't know exactly how much they should owe for this service, but it's stupid to say it's nothing.
uh-huh, there are plenty of other folks with engineering degrees and good grades who are doing great at life.
it should be obvious to anyone with intelligence that intelligence is not in itself sufficient for, well, pretty much anything. why don't you tell us what the real problem is?
well, yeah, children are dumb; even, or especially, the smart ones.
however, Livius said "I've still seen very few environments where [intelligence isn't a liability], and all of those only well after childhood."
for a grown adult, this is just pathetic (without mitigating factors, at least). even Spock could occasionally pretend not to be autistic when it was to the advantage of his commission.
Then, I'm afraid, you're doing it wrong.
Or maybe you're not actually that smart. Or maybe you never bothered to learn how to change things, perhaps due to some inefficient ethics you were indoctrinated with?
these "safety bunkers" are called "lobbies" by normal people. you know, how gas stations have air-conditioned stores inside where you can buy coffee and soda? you can still afford gas, can't you?
whatever, i've played plenty of Dune II. you just build a concrete slab and put it wherever you want.
it doesn't really matter whether it helps or not. Congress has the Constitutional power to grant patents; end of story.
what you'd have to do is get a Constitutional Amendment, rather than rant on slashdot (unless that's the best you can do toward that end, in which case, go ahead). in this case, the burden is on you to either fix it or move elsewhere.
the overwhelming amount of real danger is from database compromises, which this has almost (almost!) nothing to do with.
smells like fud to keep people from sharing their paid services with friends and family. fuck that.
well, nerds often have delusions of becoming billionaires.
probably between 0.1 and 200 yuan per post.
and don't be silly; xiaomi doesn't pay for propaganda in a capitalist paradise like China. i'm sure it's covered for 'free' by the government.
And how many presidential candidates have sung about bombing Sweden or the UK in the campaigns?
Dumbfuck.
well, yeah, fedgov doesn't really want Assange dead (what good would it do?), let alone to the point of murdering someone under diplomatic protection in a foreign country. shit, we probably wouldn't even kill Osama bin Laden if he were under European protection (not that he would get it in the first place, but this is a hypothetical).
however, that doesn't mean Sweden wouldn't want to score some cheap brownie points by throwing Assange to the wolves, and we certainly wouldn't turn it down.
i know, instead of pop-ups, they should have invented tailored advertising: https://www.google.com/search?...
User Friendly is never appropriate.
Yeah, I summarize this sometimes by suggesting that the real political problem is that we've overvalued human life, and everyone has their own solutions to this. That is to say, rather than the real cost in terms of life itself and the environment, Californians have calculated the "real cost" for our stable lifestyle. If we are going to compete (and who says we have to?), it would be necessary to sacrifice the lifestyle.
this is hardly in-depth; it's on the level of office gossip.
anyway, these things might have been mentioned in that pile o' data he snagged, you know, the reason you hate him so much? just a thought.
i've noticed this too. it's a weird combination of things.
: The fetishization of China by certain weirdos as a place of 'economic liberty' (lol), or at least something worth kowtowing to, just in case.
: The fear of appearing racist. This is due to a confusion of China (the culture) with Chinese (the race). In a bit of amusing irony, this confusion comes partly from the intense xenophobia of the Chinese culture itself. Here's a hint: corruption and brutality are not strongly heritable traits.
: False liberal humility.
: And finally, organized forum postings by patriotic and/or compensated agents. Seriously, check for ACs and the recently-registered.
"But the fun has just begun!", Steve continued, as he brusquely pulled his black turtleneck® over his head in a practiced motion. He lunged over the thick beige desk with routed edges, not yet replaced by the rounded-edged white lucite monolith to come in the next decades.
The candidate, already disoriented, was now frozen still in shock. Burrell and I were not completely surprised, and began casually walking toward the door before being 'asked' to participate in what was to come. Burrell, known for his grace under pressure during many of our Forced Marches in marathon coding sessions for the Apple Lisa, glanced over at the minibar. Following his glance, we were assured that The MacAllan 30 was full and the rectal funnel was sterilized and wrapped, and we continued more confidently to the egress as we heard the loud 'thud' of the applicant's chair hitting the ground, pivoted under the force of a pouncing Steve Jobs.
Burrell opened the door fluidly, hoping not to draw attention. I dared a look back, not entirely unlike Lot's wife as I mused at the time; Steve's hands were already at work. His dominant right hand was wrapped around the poor candidate's throat, as his left hand reached downward, pulling at the man's pants zipper. Half mesmerized I listlessly walked through the door, my head unconsciously craning at the sight in morbid curiosity. Already, the candidate had submitted, possibly in relief and hope at a prestigious position, as his pants began to descend. Steve raised his head, and terror struck. I frantically pivoted my head forward though I knew what I had done. A chill ran down my spine.
The last I saw was Steve throwing me the thumbs-up before reaching into his own tailored jeans pocket. As the heavy door both clicked and thudded solidly behind me, I realized that I'd been holding my breath. Sighing deeply, my next thought was that the 'woomp-ka-chunk' of the door would make a fantastic System Alert sound for the new Mac OS 8. As I set myself to think about how to requisition a microphone and similar door for my own office, my thoughts strayed. The candidate was being initiated on both fronts, I thought, as my own manhood stiffened. Steve would retrieve his "Shiva" LSD from the left pocket of his custom-frayed jeans and then proceed to unbutton himself.
Like all Apple employees, I had become intimately aware of Steve's endowment. For the sake of posterity I will avoid details, but allow me only to suggest that the sledgehammer in the infamous "1984" ad was, in fact, molded after the proportions of our own dear leader.
I turned my head to Burrell and we both bowed our heads. In my case, it was mostly sympathy; the poor candidate might think that this was just a rough initiation, a baptism by fire, and look forward to more wholesome days. We knew, of course, to "think different". We'd chuckled nervously to ourselves when TBWA\Chiat\Day pitched the slogan a few weeks ago. If they'd only known how right they were.
Burrell went right, as I took the left-hand path. My erection throbbed in a revolting mixture of sympathy and schadenfreude, but by cleverly pivoting my body to the left, I was able to hide it from clear sight. I reached my office in the space of a single breath and opened the door. It was a disappointing hollow slab of beige metal, offering no resistance to my push. I thought again, and hoped fervently that my requisition order would go through. In cock or mind, I could never have a shade on our leader, but how it would buoy my weary soul to mimic him in any way... even just a similar mahogany door!
As I entered, the door fell back on itself. I heard, or maybe just imagined, the candidate's howl as his rectum collapsed under repeated thrusting. Steve would have already fed him the acid, and at this point would have worked his shaft at least half-way in. If a tree falls in the forest, does anyone hear it? In any case, the sounds would end soon. Mostly for the candidate's benefit, Steve would soon withdraw and masturbate to completion into his mouth. A mi