I wrote a very simple perl script to generate a report based on the number of spams I get...
Feb 9 thru 28: 5271 spam emails of 10150 total emails detected and rejected
5136 detected by bl.spamcop.net
45 detected by orbs.dorkslayers.com
86 detected by relays.ordb.org
3 detected by relays.osirusoft.com 1 detected by spews.relays.osirusoft.com
Mar 1 thru 13: 4392 spam emails of 6614 total emails detected and rejected
1552 detected by bl.spamcop.net
178 detected by list.dsbl.org
14 detected by relays.ordb.org 1709 detected by relays.osirusoft.com
939 detected by spews.relays.osirusoft.com
What about Taxes?
on
Add-Ons Add Up
·
· Score: 1, Insightful
Amazing that no one complains about the fact that government charges most working people about 50% in "Fees" and few complain. Note: Income, Property and Sales Tax combined.
When a commercial entity charges 1-5% everyone raises hell.
But, in my present condition, the thought seems a bit detached. Rather like the feeling of, hung over one sunny Sunday morning, idly glancing at a newspaper, and reading that hundreds of thousands Bangladeshis have drowned in a typhoon. Disturbing, at first. But quickly succeeded by more pertinent questions: Why so abominable, this cappucino? Why, this thick and winding strand of hair upon my tongue? Okay, who pissed in the Coffeematic?
Thus is the thought of sex fantasy to those afflicted with sinus headache. It can be appreciated mentally, but not emotionally; for the body is otherwise occupied.
Sinus headache: Some of you may have never been afflicted by this beast. Some may never experience it again. Lucky bastards. For the uninitiated, a description: Pain. Pure pain. As Everclear is to liquors, sinus pain is to agony. Unadulterated by the coarser emotions. A smooth, creamy wash of pain daubed across the eyebrows and cheekbones. Not even the gently pulsing pain of migraine; constant, and distilled. Like an unwanted mother-in-law, it may drop in at any time, and stay for days, weeks, months.
The cause? Mucus. Mucus Supremus, Mucus Horribilis, Mucus Rex. Mucus Sapiens, perhaps. Backed up by allergy-inflamed polyps or a fierce cold, it roosts and festers in the spongy tunnels of sinus. Continually secreted, with no escape. Pressure is too mild a word; this force that slowly squashes my cheekbones from the inside out must be something else entirely.
The inevitable result: Sinus Fantasies.
My first Sinus Fantasy: The Needle. Walking through a hideous slum as my pain consumes me, oblivious to the world around me, my foot connects with a broken slab of pavement, and I fall. Pushing myself to my knees, I recognize a scrap of plastic and steel at my feet: an old hypodermic needle. Infected, surely; but no matter, for as my hands softly tremble with the awfulness of the deed, I recognize inevitably what must be done.
I pick the thing up firmly; not so firmly as to break it, but with a certain quivering force, from fear in my pain-induced delirium that the needle will spring from my hand with the last desperate energy of a captured beast. I take the needle between my left fingers and press it to a bulging, inflated cheekbone. The empty reservoir poised in the air, tense, waiting.
Then my right hand blurs and crashes against the hypo's base like a hammer on a nail. Driving the steel pinpoint of cathartic pain through spongy bone into the tunnels of pain that are my sinuses. Thick yellow mucus has been festering there for what must be decades, building up astronomical pressure. It explodes through the thin hypodermic pipe and fountains into the reservoir, which fills in seconds, then bursts. I stand thus mute for what seems like minutes as my slime spurts from the shattered needle, finally drying to a trickle. Before my feet is a golden pool of fluid, skeins of vermilion woven about the crust which already begins to form on its surface. The smell: pungent, fierce, alive. Catharsis achieved. The left side of my face feels almost limp. Yet the right still pulses like an overinflated balloon, bloated and waiting. I scrabble around the broken fragments of concrete that pass for a sidewalk, in quest of another needle.
A second. The Sinus Fantasy that drove me to fear all thought of Sinus Fantasies, as the depressed fear skyscrapers and bridges. I call it "Roto-Rooter."
The surgeon must treat some organs with timidity and respect, for they are necessary to life. Heart, liver, lungs. But others earn not the same fear: the dispensable ones, the evolutionary anomalies, the vestiges. Appendix, tonsils, gallbladder.
I need not state the obvious, by telling you in what class I place the Sinus.
Most of you have probably seen a pneumatic drill in action. Blasts of compressed air throw a heavy steel head forward to crush everything in its path, ten times a second. The noise, like an orgy of concrete woodpeckers. One of the modern Sacraments Of Power, a true ambassador plenipotentiary of Progress.
About three feet long, though. Clearly too large to serve as a practical instrument of personal grooming.
Consider an eight-inch pneumatic drill. Sold, perhaps, as a sex toy, an artifact of yuppie pleasure, gracing the pages of the Sharper Image. With a classy carborundum cutting head, and an ecologically-correct imitation ivory case. Whatever.
And with a flick of the wrist I ignite the thing, and thrust it into my welcoming flesh. The drill drums up an unholy beat as it crashes into my zygomatic arch, tearing away spongy bone to expose and lay waste the tender sinuses beneath. I run it in a rough figure-eight around my face, careful to leave no pocket of mucus unpierced. The room is spattered with blood, bone dust, and phlegm, and I have gouged deep, moist facial trenches. Scarred for life. But already the pain is beginning to recede.
I integrated Samba into our flagship product...
on
Samba Turns 10
·
· Score: 1, Informative
In 1996 I decided to use samba to implement a non-mission critical function of our flagship product.
We started with samba 1.9 and now are installing 2.21 with neww customers. Of all the versions, 2.21 was the biggest performance improvement - making shares "feel" like local drives - and running better than our PDC's shares.
Although it's been a pain at times, it's well worth the trouble.
We now have hundreds of people who realize that you don't need to buy a NT Server to have centralized file and print sharing.
You're dead on here.
*Sometimes* I dont give a flying f*ck about how readable it is, as I usually do a complete rewrite on each visit to a function/procudure.
Sometimes I want to do it my way with my current knowledge. Of course, as you learn more, you can modify to do things smarter and faster...
Perl is the crack of programming languages...and I am an addict...with JUST the method of upgrading/installing CPAN modules...it makes it invaluable..to me....
So all you guys thinking about Perl...once you start...you cant stop....and NOTHING compares to the POWER of Perl...
I screwed around for a cupla hours yesterday and wrote a complete statics system for my web page...without using 1 module!
Perl is the crack of all programming I have ever done, from UNIX/C to MFC C++ and now Java.
Python is STILL an advanced PHP to me, not quite thd fix I need with Perl.
I love skipping a whole new language since one (Perl) does it all...and is more advanced.
No one has come close to CPAN (yet).
During an interview with several prospective employees I have asked if they knew of, ever posted on the UseNet. If the answer was "yes". I would go further and ask if they used it for work related purposes. If that answer was yes I have asked for the email address of their posts.
Then I would search deja:
a~ emplyee@oldjob.com
To see their comments.
Amazing what you can find out about a person this way.
I would hate for a potential employer to see *all* of my postings!
Coward,
Just because someone hasn't bought into the delicate balance BS doesn't mean they are republican.
This would similar to someone to claim that liberals prefer to be Anonymous Cowards.
Although I am with you on the fear of modifying creatures...you are completely wrong on the delicate balance theory...
In fact, the earth is a huge filter/engine that humans could never dream of modifying permanently...although I do believe gene splicing could have more lasting effects than global thermonuclear war...
Slashdot Mirror
I have decided to short 400 shares a bit above $19.00. This is the biggest scam since ENRON.
Currently long NOVL (SuSE).
Betting on Linux. Wish me luck?
But to give crap about this has me beat.
Anyone wana play Doom III?
I know of a way to make everything 50 times slower:
Replace everything MS machines...
Just to be redundant and so I can quickly find this thread...
I wrote a very simple perl script to generate a report based on the number of spams I get...
Amazing that no one complains about the fact that government charges most working people about 50% in "Fees" and few complain. Note: Income, Property and Sales Tax combined.
When a commercial entity charges 1-5% everyone raises hell.
Looks like we have a gun more annoying than the BFG9000 now....
But, in my present condition, the thought seems a bit detached. Rather like
the feeling of, hung over one sunny Sunday morning, idly glancing at a
newspaper, and reading that hundreds of thousands Bangladeshis have drowned
in a typhoon. Disturbing, at first. But quickly succeeded by more pertinent
questions: Why so abominable, this cappucino? Why, this thick and winding
strand of hair upon my tongue? Okay, who pissed in the Coffeematic?
Thus is the thought of sex fantasy to those afflicted with sinus headache.
It can be appreciated mentally, but not emotionally; for the body is
otherwise occupied.
Sinus headache: Some of you may have never been afflicted by this beast.
Some may never experience it again. Lucky bastards. For the uninitiated, a
description: Pain. Pure pain. As Everclear is to liquors, sinus pain is to
agony. Unadulterated by the coarser emotions. A smooth, creamy wash of
pain daubed across the eyebrows and cheekbones. Not even the gently pulsing
pain of migraine; constant, and distilled. Like an unwanted mother-in-law,
it may drop in at any time, and stay for days, weeks, months.
The cause? Mucus. Mucus Supremus, Mucus Horribilis, Mucus Rex. Mucus
Sapiens, perhaps. Backed up by allergy-inflamed polyps or a fierce cold, it
roosts and festers in the spongy tunnels of sinus. Continually secreted,
with no escape. Pressure is too mild a word; this force that slowly
squashes my cheekbones from the inside out must be something else entirely.
The inevitable result: Sinus Fantasies.
My first Sinus Fantasy: The Needle. Walking through a hideous slum as my
pain consumes me, oblivious to the world around me, my foot connects with a
broken slab of pavement, and I fall. Pushing myself to my knees, I
recognize a scrap of plastic and steel at my feet: an old hypodermic
needle. Infected, surely; but no matter, for as my hands softly tremble
with the awfulness of the deed, I recognize inevitably what must be done.
I pick the thing up firmly; not so firmly as to break it, but with a certain
quivering force, from fear in my pain-induced delirium that the needle will
spring from my hand with the last desperate energy of a captured beast. I
take the needle between my left fingers and press it to a bulging, inflated
cheekbone. The empty reservoir poised in the air, tense, waiting.
Then my right hand blurs and crashes against the hypo's base like a hammer
on a nail. Driving the steel pinpoint of cathartic pain through spongy bone
into the tunnels of pain that are my sinuses. Thick yellow mucus has been
festering there for what must be decades, building up astronomical
pressure. It explodes through the thin hypodermic pipe and fountains into
the reservoir, which fills in seconds, then bursts. I stand thus mute for
what seems like minutes as my slime spurts from the shattered needle, finally
drying to a trickle. Before my feet is a golden pool of fluid, skeins of
vermilion woven about the crust which already begins to form on its
surface. The smell: pungent, fierce, alive. Catharsis achieved. The left
side of my face feels almost limp. Yet the right still pulses like an
overinflated balloon, bloated and waiting. I scrabble around the broken
fragments of concrete that pass for a sidewalk, in quest of another needle.
A second. The Sinus Fantasy that drove me to fear all thought of Sinus
Fantasies, as the depressed fear skyscrapers and bridges. I call it
"Roto-Rooter."
The surgeon must treat some organs with timidity and respect, for they are
necessary to life. Heart, liver, lungs. But others earn not the same fear:
the dispensable ones, the evolutionary anomalies, the vestiges. Appendix,
tonsils, gallbladder.
I need not state the obvious, by telling you in what class I place the
Sinus.
Most of you have probably seen a pneumatic drill in action. Blasts of
compressed air throw a heavy steel head forward to crush everything in its
path, ten times a second. The noise, like an orgy of concrete woodpeckers.
One of the modern Sacraments Of Power, a true ambassador plenipotentiary of
Progress.
About three feet long, though. Clearly too large to serve as a practical
instrument of personal grooming.
Consider an eight-inch pneumatic drill. Sold, perhaps, as a sex toy, an
artifact of yuppie pleasure, gracing the pages of the Sharper Image. With a
classy carborundum cutting head, and an ecologically-correct imitation ivory
case. Whatever.
And with a flick of the wrist I ignite the thing, and thrust it into my
welcoming flesh. The drill drums up an unholy beat as it crashes into my
zygomatic arch, tearing away spongy bone to expose and lay waste the tender
sinuses beneath. I run it in a rough figure-eight around my face, careful
to leave no pocket of mucus unpierced. The room is spattered with blood,
bone dust, and phlegm, and I have gouged deep, moist facial trenches.
Scarred for life. But already the pain is beginning to recede.
In 1996 I decided to use samba to implement a non-mission critical function of our flagship product.
We started with samba 1.9 and now are installing 2.21 with neww customers. Of all the versions, 2.21 was the biggest performance improvement - making shares "feel" like local drives - and running better than our PDC's shares.
Although it's been a pain at times, it's well worth the trouble.
We now have hundreds of people who realize that you don't need to buy a NT Server to have centralized file and print sharing.
Here is admonishment for cutting down trees and decorating them...
Jeremiah
10:2
Thus saith the LORD, Learn not the way of the heathen, and be not dismayed at the signs of heaven; for the heathen are dismayed at them.
10:3
For the customs of the people [are] vain: for [one] cutteth a tree out of the forest, the work of the hands of the workman, with the axe.
10:4
They deck it with silver and with gold; they fasten it with nails and with hammers, that it move not.
While you're at it patent walking around with a bag on it as a form of encryption...
Look at the similarities between Mars and Middle Austrailia....
You're dead on here. *Sometimes* I dont give a flying f*ck about how readable it is, as I usually do a complete rewrite on each visit to a function/procudure. Sometimes I want to do it my way with my current knowledge. Of course, as you learn more, you can modify to do things smarter and faster...
Perl is the crack of programming languages...and I am an addict...with JUST the method of upgrading/installing CPAN modules...it makes it invaluable..to me.... So all you guys thinking about Perl...once you start...you cant stop....and NOTHING compares to the POWER of Perl... I screwed around for a cupla hours yesterday and wrote a complete statics system for my web page...without using 1 module!
I use CVS exclusively for text/source. How does one ensure that all binary files are properly admin'ed out (-ko -kb)?
Perl is the crack of all programming I have ever done, from UNIX/C to MFC C++ and now Java. Python is STILL an advanced PHP to me, not quite thd fix I need with Perl. I love skipping a whole new language since one (Perl) does it all...and is more advanced. No one has come close to CPAN (yet).
During an interview with several prospective employees I have asked if they knew of, ever posted on the UseNet. If the answer was "yes". I would go further and ask if they used it for work related purposes. If that answer was yes I have asked for the email address of their posts. Then I would search deja: a~ emplyee@oldjob.com To see their comments. Amazing what you can find out about a person this way. I would hate for a potential employer to see *all* of my postings!
Disneyland has hew job openenings in Fantasyland....
Coward, Just because someone hasn't bought into the delicate balance BS doesn't mean they are republican. This would similar to someone to claim that liberals prefer to be Anonymous Cowards.
Although I am with you on the fear of modifying creatures...you are completely wrong on the delicate balance theory... In fact, the earth is a huge filter/engine that humans could never dream of modifying permanently...although I do believe gene splicing could have more lasting effects than global thermonuclear war...