Now I'm going to have to find a dem/3d map of the moon, obtain Bryce or some such similar dumbed down 3D app and go and render a chrome moon. Damn you Teh Interweb! Damn you to hell!
The sociological effects of portable entertainment equipment, as exampled by top selling hardware 'Gameboy', is something that should be studied. White papers could be generated from this study and then sold to entertainment companies for lots of money.
Picked up a GBA for my daughter this Xmas. Figured it was time to replace my original Game Boy. Thing is still running ok but the color's are kinda' faded.
That one had me puzzled as well. When was the last reported bayoneting in the U.S.? Same goes for the stock thing. Hell, they want to make it difficult for nut jobs to use a gun, ship 'em with sights way off (or actually as separate pieces) so that you have to zero them in (or install them) first.
The hills across the valley of Pooh Corner were long and white. On one side there was no shade and no trees and a stuffed animal could fry in the heat in minutes. A small building stood between the valley and the green Hundred Acre Wood. A bear and the girl with him sat at a table in the shae, outside the building.
"What should we eat?" the girl asked.
"Honey," said the bear. It was hot and small beads of sweat dropped off the tip of his nose. He watched the water make a reasonable pool on the table. He looked up at the girl.
"It will be all right," she said. "Lots of people have done it."
"I don't know," said the bear. He thought about the war. He tried no to think, but it was always there in the darkness. He remembered the explosion and afterward the doctors putting the stuffing back inside him. He remebered months in the Pet Hospital on Santa Monica Boulevard in Century City, and afterward the walks to Harry's Bar & Grill in the afternoon. He remembered the old waiter and the young waiter and how no one ever quite learned how to say the Lord's Prayer without all the nadasI in it.
"Oh, pooh," swore the girl. "I can't bear it when you're like this."
The bear looked across at the hills in the distance. They looked like white heffalumps. He smiled to himself, remebereing how clever things had been before the accident. Now his old friends were all gone. Eeyore had become a therapist specializing in manic depression. Tigger had opened an aerobics studio in Beverly Hills. Kanga had finally gotten the divorce settlement and moved back to Australia. The bear realized he was thinking too much. He crossed his legs carefully and stared at the girl.
The waitress brought a jar of honey. The bear stuck his nose in it and began to eat.
"Don't get your head stuck in the jar," the girl said. "Like last time."
The bear looked down across the valley. Eeyore's gloomy place had been subdivided and overbuilt with condos. He remembered hunting for woozle on crisp winter mornings when his breath would frost in the air and he would follow tracks in the snow and the world seemed so clear and true that it was like being in love all the time. He tried to remeber what being in love was like but his accident had fixed that and the girl was talking again and he couldn't think.
"It's an awfully simple operation," she said. "And then everything would be like before."
The bear stood and looked down at the sleek unbroken line of fur that ran to his toes. "Yes," he said. "Isn't it pretty to think so?"
Slashdot Mirror
Ah, Leonard Nimoy narrating doom. Such a dreamy voice...
I thought 1 AU would be closer?
I just set up a pell in my backyard. Need to pad it, though, as it's tearing up my practice swords.
Grue is in the details?
When you upload from a book, it's called "Reading".
"Writing" refers to correcting a book.
sagging breasts [are] not cool.
Um...yes they are. Hardly any women after 20 don't sag, unless they have mosquito bites or surgery. Besides, real women with real bodies rock!
You'd end up with a flattened hamburger bun shaped world, with super strong centipedes living on the rim. Cool!
Long-term low gravity is dangerous to the body because it makes your internal organs go in strange ways in relation to each other.
Chicks in low G will develop new curves? Cool!
I smell a new reality TV series!
Flinging Poop at the Stars?
I think this might be a reality show I'd watch.
...the nutty Gia concept...
Hey Carman was cool. Just not for everyone. Now Deidre, she's a hottie!
Chrome the moon
Now I'm going to have to find a dem/3d map of the moon, obtain Bryce or some such similar dumbed down 3D app and go and render a chrome moon. Damn you Teh Interweb! Damn you to hell!
Replace Hyper with Dooper and you've got it!
...all we have for comfort is bad science fiction.
Victorian Chicks in Space?
Then how come there's all these songs about Superman? Don't hear any songs about Bat Man or The Flash do ya'. Yeah, that's what I thought!
The sociological effects of portable entertainment equipment, as exampled by top selling hardware 'Gameboy', is something that should be studied. White papers could be generated from this study and then sold to entertainment companies for lots of money.
Even the case has faded to this beige-platinum color. Weird! Side scrolling moto-cross game is still fun to play.
Oh, sure, you demagnetized the granite shelf, but did you align the crystalline sub-matrix of the quartz particles? For $20,000, obviously not!
Picked up a GBA for my daughter this Xmas. Figured it was time to replace my original Game Boy. Thing is still running ok but the color's are kinda' faded.
Heh. A guy at work is trying to sell his month old 360. It doesn't have HDMI out. Oh, the horror, the horror.
Isn't this out of some SCI-Fi movie?
I don't think they'll be blaring adverts about emigrating to the off world colonies.
Yet.
...you won't really know when your being followed.
Other than the large airship over head.
Um...just because you're paranoid does not mean I'm not out to get you?
That one had me puzzled as well. When was the last reported bayoneting in the U.S.? Same goes for the stock thing. Hell, they want to make it difficult for nut jobs to use a gun, ship 'em with sights way off (or actually as separate pieces) so that you have to zero them in (or install them) first.
Dude, this guy strapped a JATO to an Impala and made it sub-orbital. There's a page on MySpace about this.
HILLS LIKE WHITE HEFFALUMPS
The hills across the valley of Pooh Corner were long and white. On one side there was no shade and no trees and a stuffed animal could fry in the heat in minutes. A small building stood between the valley and the green Hundred Acre Wood. A bear and the girl with him sat at a table in the shae, outside the building.
"What should we eat?" the girl asked.
"Honey," said the bear. It was hot and small beads of sweat dropped off the tip of his nose. He watched the water make a reasonable pool on the table. He looked up at the girl.
"It will be all right," she said. "Lots of people have done it."
"I don't know," said the bear. He thought about the war. He tried no to think, but it was always there in the darkness. He remembered the explosion and afterward the doctors putting the stuffing back inside him. He remebered months in the Pet Hospital on Santa Monica Boulevard in Century City, and afterward the walks to Harry's Bar & Grill in the afternoon. He remembered the old waiter and the young waiter and how no one ever quite learned how to say the Lord's Prayer without all the nadasI in it.
"Oh, pooh," swore the girl. "I can't bear it when you're like this."
The bear looked across at the hills in the distance. They looked like white heffalumps. He smiled to himself, remebereing how clever things had been before the accident. Now his old friends were all gone. Eeyore had become a therapist specializing in manic depression. Tigger had opened an aerobics studio in Beverly Hills. Kanga had finally gotten the divorce settlement and moved back to Australia. The bear realized he was thinking too much. He crossed his legs carefully and stared at the girl.
The waitress brought a jar of honey. The bear stuck his nose in it and began to eat.
"Don't get your head stuck in the jar," the girl said. "Like last time."
The bear looked down across the valley. Eeyore's gloomy place had been subdivided and overbuilt with condos. He remembered hunting for woozle on crisp winter mornings when his breath would frost in the air and he would follow tracks in the snow and the world seemed so clear and true that it was like being in love all the time. He tried to remeber what being in love was like but his accident had fixed that and the girl was talking again and he couldn't think.
"It's an awfully simple operation," she said. "And then everything would be like before."
The bear stood and looked down at the sleek unbroken line of fur that ran to his toes. "Yes," he said. "Isn't it pretty to think so?"
-Chris McCarthy