Prrrrrrretty sure the first one is knowledge. Can we fire whoever wrote that and get a do-over? Maybe something like:
Intelligence is predicting that the crew of the USS Voyager will have trouble escaping their current predicament because of complications resulting from their method of time travel before said complications are revealed.
Wisdom is knowing the show's ratings are tanking.
I hate to burst your bubble, but that presumes an awful lot about advertising working. Do you really think vlm is going to buy women's herpes medication? Ads that have no hope of translating into purchases or recommendations are wastes of everyone's time and money. That's why this article is hardly free attention for Apple—basically, we're laughing at them, basically.
Wow. I have no idea how "F" came out as "fee". Clearly I've been exposed to too much Greek. I guess I'll hand the first one to you!
Regardless: five- and six- letter initialisms are heinously long; three- and four- letter abbreviations tend to be the norm. I think finding the shortest distinctive representation is more of a driving factor than aesthetics. Also perhaps there's also some innate wariness of emphasizing non-leading vowels, brought over from other abbreviation conventions.
The world will never be consistent, my friend; certainly not with something as ad hoc as abbreviations.
There's an easy explanation for that: the second "E" disappears when you say it quickly (ess ee fee ee pee vee), and the first one would make the initialism long and unwieldy without providing pronounceability. "PV" describes the root noun and hence is more important to the meaning of the term, and makes it easier to infer what the abbreviation describes when scanning snippets of unfamiliar literature. Irregularity in such contractions is not a new thing, though—ever seen "Wm." for "William"?
Brevity, especially the minimum effort to provide disambiguation, supersedes consistency; otherwise we wouldn't use abbreviations at all. Think of it like Huffman coding. Huffman coding is the wellspring of life.
I'm pretty sure the average veteran of punch-card computing was more tactilely aware than a young adult of today like you or me. Missing or dropping a card would've been more rare—and there actually were automated sorting machines, some of which had very clever was of mechanically implementing mergesort.
Not all nostalgia is exactly about the same kind of fun, though. Once you got past the nittiness and the grittiness of how the code was written (i.e. generally in a very limited compiled language, or assembler) the machines behind them were much simpler. It was possible in those days for a single person to be knowledgeable in CPU architecture and operating system design, and still be on the cutting edge in artificial intelligence. Because of that comparative simplicity, the opacity of the tools used to program the computers felt less like a chore and more like a game; c.f. the Story of Mel. The rules were different, code and UI style didn't exist, and the sophistication of a good hack reigned supreme.
As a result, every modest and large program for these older systems was like a little shining gem. A programmer felt proud if something they wrote was well-designed, or shared amongst computer users, or accomplished its work in a particularly clever and memory-saving manner. I think wanting to preserve those accomplishments and memories of one's glory days is at the root of all this.
(And they said computer history would never amount to a degree program—foo to them, say I!)
Doesn't really invalidate the point—I mean, what it amounts to is that iris scanners, traditionally thought of as extremely high-security items, are only really practical for low-security stuff where it wouldn't be worth the cost/risk/bloodshed/etc. to (a) kidnap someone to prototype from their eyes or (b) take what you need a la carte. You still wouldn't want to use it for a military installation.
Why, knowing things, obviously. Just like we want to know how the world works in every minute detail, they want to know what the world's doing... in every minute detail.
I was just headline skimming—I saw "apps generate six times the revenue" and divided by six, not factoring in the difference in app numbers. The other one says 'four times'... and blithely links the first one, which implies that the article's author thinks Android apps have indeed $850 million dollars. Not the greatest methodology, I know, but not completely made up. (Also, not a partisan in this holy war. Calm down.)
I'd guess somewhere between $750 million and $500 million... but both of those figures may be before tariffs—note that Apple makes off with a whopping 30% of each app sale.
I can solve two of those problems: all variable names will be limited to one character, and comments are strictly prohibited. Isomorphicising languages is left as an exercise to the reader.
Slashdot Mirror
Go directly to jail. Do not press go; do not collect two hundred tracking cookies.
Prrrrrrretty sure the first one is knowledge. Can we fire whoever wrote that and get a do-over? Maybe something like:
Intelligence is predicting that the crew of the USS Voyager will have trouble escaping their current predicament because of complications resulting from their method of time travel before said complications are revealed.
Wisdom is knowing the show's ratings are tanking.
I hate to burst your bubble, but that presumes an awful lot about advertising working. Do you really think vlm is going to buy women's herpes medication? Ads that have no hope of translating into purchases or recommendations are wastes of everyone's time and money. That's why this article is hardly free attention for Apple—basically, we're laughing at them, basically.
I'm arrested! I demand you be offended.
I'm offended by your suggestion that you know someone. I demand you be arrested!
Burma-Shave ?
Wow. I have no idea how "F" came out as "fee". Clearly I've been exposed to too much Greek. I guess I'll hand the first one to you!
Regardless: five- and six- letter initialisms are heinously long; three- and four- letter abbreviations tend to be the norm. I think finding the shortest distinctive representation is more of a driving factor than aesthetics. Also perhaps there's also some innate wariness of emphasizing non-leading vowels, brought over from other abbreviation conventions.
The world will never be consistent, my friend; certainly not with something as ad hoc as abbreviations.
There's an easy explanation for that: the second "E" disappears when you say it quickly (ess ee fee ee pee vee), and the first one would make the initialism long and unwieldy without providing pronounceability. "PV" describes the root noun and hence is more important to the meaning of the term, and makes it easier to infer what the abbreviation describes when scanning snippets of unfamiliar literature. Irregularity in such contractions is not a new thing, though—ever seen "Wm." for "William"?
Brevity, especially the minimum effort to provide disambiguation, supersedes consistency; otherwise we wouldn't use abbreviations at all. Think of it like Huffman coding. Huffman coding is the wellspring of life.
This pair should do. you need something with decent protection from 480 nm.
But realistically, as long as you don't have any exposed trepanations or evidence of brain surgery, you're probably okay.
20k mobile phone robberies. A hundred thousand cell phone robberies per year in 1993 seems a little hard to fathom. Although you're right that crime rates are going down.
I'm pretty sure the average veteran of punch-card computing was more tactilely aware than a young adult of today like you or me. Missing or dropping a card would've been more rare—and there actually were automated sorting machines, some of which had very clever was of mechanically implementing mergesort.
Not all nostalgia is exactly about the same kind of fun, though. Once you got past the nittiness and the grittiness of how the code was written (i.e. generally in a very limited compiled language, or assembler) the machines behind them were much simpler. It was possible in those days for a single person to be knowledgeable in CPU architecture and operating system design, and still be on the cutting edge in artificial intelligence. Because of that comparative simplicity, the opacity of the tools used to program the computers felt less like a chore and more like a game; c.f. the Story of Mel. The rules were different, code and UI style didn't exist, and the sophistication of a good hack reigned supreme.
As a result, every modest and large program for these older systems was like a little shining gem. A programmer felt proud if something they wrote was well-designed, or shared amongst computer users, or accomplished its work in a particularly clever and memory-saving manner. I think wanting to preserve those accomplishments and memories of one's glory days is at the root of all this.
(And they said computer history would never amount to a degree program—foo to them, say I!)
Unfortunately Slashdot doesn't support <sarcasm> properly. It's just as well, since if you try using <sarcasm> on any other site, no one will notice.
To that end I propose the following Userstyle:
@namespace url(http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml);
sarcasm {
text-decoration: blink !important;
}
That's a good trick—albeit one probably fairly easy to simulate with a decent e-paper display put in place, or a transparent LCD.
Doesn't really invalidate the point—I mean, what it amounts to is that iris scanners, traditionally thought of as extremely high-security items, are only really practical for low-security stuff where it wouldn't be worth the cost/risk/bloodshed/etc. to (a) kidnap someone to prototype from their eyes or (b) take what you need a la carte. You still wouldn't want to use it for a military installation.
It's actually, like, 32. But yeah.
I believe it's this PDF.
Why, knowing things, obviously. Just like we want to know how the world works in every minute detail, they want to know what the world's doing... in every minute detail.
I was just headline skimming—I saw "apps generate six times the revenue" and divided by six, not factoring in the difference in app numbers. The other one says 'four times'... and blithely links the first one, which implies that the article's author thinks Android apps have indeed $850 million dollars. Not the greatest methodology, I know, but not completely made up. (Also, not a partisan in this holy war. Calm down.)
...as does Google.
I'd guess somewhere between $750 million and $500 million... but both of those figures may be before tariffs—note that Apple makes off with a whopping 30% of each app sale.
I concur. It must rain blood.
Miraculously, the patent was only filed in 2005. DEC was long gone by then. But apparently they're suing some other game companies too.
*ahem* That's not funny?
ASCII did just fine for this one.
I can solve two of those problems: all variable names will be limited to one character, and comments are strictly prohibited. Isomorphicising languages is left as an exercise to the reader.