...is still the mind; it constantly fills in the gaps and extrapolates from what our eyes transmit. When the mind is sufficiently engaged, almost any level of graphics can be adequate, and sometimes less leaves more room for our processing. The mind does what good graphics engines can merely assist: assign meaning and importance to the patterns on the screen; good writing can help there....
(This is, incidentally, one of the reasons why pr0n is always one of the first applications of any new graphics technology, e.g. printing, lithography, dial-up BBS and CGA or Hercules: when the mind is intensely engaged, the limitations of the medium, ineptness of the plotting, and the crudeness of the rendering don't matter as much, and since pornography hacks the will of our Masters, the Genes, it guaranties engagement [but please don't marry it].)
Just launch a topic into the internets that is so interesting that the server[s] you wish to attack will presume that a DoS attack is in progress.
Maybe via some sort of semi-popular forum....
When Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra sang it in 'High Society':
We sing, so rare!
Like aged camembert!
Like [sung like the Whiffenpoove's song:] baba au rhum! [Crosby;] ba-ba-ba bum
[Sinatra:] Don't dig that kind of crooning, chum.
For another take: Debby Harry and Iggy Pop: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p6JukvxCwvU
---some unpleasant visuals, but I actually prefer the orchestration and vocals to Sinatra/Crosby, and it features a stoned-looking Harry expressing her opinion of sex at the end.
I hope his parents, relatives, and their friends:
Encourage his socialisation, but don't force it. Don't force his acceleration at school, but encourage it. Don't let him believe other people will be fine with his not being normal, because most of them won't (and Asperger's people tend to loathe lies), but don't try to make him normal, either.
(Yes, they messed up with me, and I am bitter about it....)
(Auto-diagnosed 1994, confirmed by professionals 1996, 1999, 2003.....)
There's a big difference between work and having a job; the first is necessary to get things done, the second I can only understand, and that not viscerally, as some sort of S&M game other people are into.
What's the life of one dangerous repeat traffic violator (or copyright infringer, yes I saw your hand up, Mr Jeter, put it down now) against all the people her organs could save?
More realistically*, you could have an intermediate state---we won't take you apart, but we won't give you any transplants, either---better add 'or let you vote' for first-order stability.
(Both systems actually suffer from the fact that people killed in this way may have friends and families...although people who die for lack of a transplant have them two, but one is much more direct and complaint-genic than the other.)
..., but this calls to mind Lenny Bruce's,
American society will cripple you, and then make fun of you for limping.
We, loosely construed, make fun of young people who do things for purely idealistic reasons ('I just want to write beautiful code and improve people's lives,'/'Shut up, Moonglow, go back to your yurt,') and then are dismayed to end up with a crop of careerists. Some may have unrealistic expectations, but I have not been in a start-up that wasn't rife with them...and, to be honest, I think most advances in our state come from a combination of practical knowledge and expectations that will seem unrealistic until they're not met. ('Sixty percent literacy? thou'rt moone-mad.' 'Hands-washing will prevent the Lying-in Fever? Yeah right.')
I guess the question of culpability really starts to come in when those expectations aren't met. In my arrogant and correct opinion, cursing the darkness is fine, as is believing that the world owes you a living---just so long as the air-flow doesn't blow out the candle you've lit, just as long as you understand that the world probably will have to be dunned for that living it owes you.
...a character has a pocket-sized screen that he enlarges by _stretching_ it. I think of this when browsing the Web on a mobile, especially iPhone-like devices with their stretching fingers-metaphor.
Just not having children is a much simpler solution---the absurd premise of "The Mark of Gideon" was that these people couldn't be sterilised, they healed so well. That's unlikely, with human beings---anyway, how is it that one has med tech good enough to create this sort of super-healing (which seems unlikely ab initio) but can't make it be contraceptive at the same time.
Anyway, there is no evidence that enough of us can get into space fast enough to make a difference on Earth. See here for an elaboration.
Technically, there is no indication that there are an "infinite" number of stars, and even if you mean "planet" by "universe", no proof yet that we ca flourish off-world (I like my bone mass, especially around my spinal cord.)
0.) You fill out the environmental impact statement (because this is not Soviet Russia!). 1.) Do we want to get a lot of power from something so vulnerable to easily-deniable sabotage? 2.) Any such device could also pass muster as a death-ray; this might raise objections from a Major Creditor Nation.
They said 'multi-dimensional'. I believe that Apple are attempting to make Time Itself tightly coupled to their hardware and software.
Watch for the ad:
-I'm a Mac. ---And I'm a PC. -I'm getting damn tired of you, so I'm going to kill your grandfather before you were born. [thumbs iPhone, vanishes] ---That's imposs [fades to nothing] -[Reappears, faces camera] Now who's cheaper?
Of course then they might get sued by Candlejack bu
I remember a tape of a presentation at 1990's or '91's SIGGRAPH showing what looked like a very data-rich 3D file-browsing construct. It particularly noted how well we can track a preselected and highlighted object as the display rotated.
It might be that doing a barely-acceptable 3D desktop might be a much taller order than a barely-unacceptable, as opposed to 2D where we've seen more of a continuum between 'fail' and 'o.k.'.
When we saw "Pet Sematary" at a horror movie marathon, we were all getting a bit tired, so the comments flew fast. A major line in the film, referring to a spot of ground with the ability to resurrect pets buried in't (but it brings them back...wrong), was "Anyone ever bury a person up there?"
When, in the film, a truck crashed and totalled, , someone yelled out, "Anyone ever bury a truck up there?" I forget if it were I or my dear who shouted, "Anyone ever bury a script up there?
"Anyone ever bury a franchise up there?" Yes, Timmy, by all appearances, someone did.
It doesn't, in my case. I used to do a lot of it, but decided that the life extension and health benefits weren't worth the nausea, dizziness, and depression that inevitably came with exercise, as well as the horrible feeling of wet skin.
...I was looking for the Shotokan (S.K.A.) practice session. I saw a bunch of people warming up in a a very familiar way...but they had coloured belts, so I thought, "Nope...J.K.F. or some other Shotokan group."
Next, I saw some guys in gis, and only black, brown, and white belts...but then I saw that their moves were kind of slinky....hmmm, Kyokushin, Oyama's people.
Next, a big group repeatedly kicking at shoulder-height or higher, coloured belts. Tae-kwon doh. Another bunch of people kicking at shoulder height...Tai Kwon Do? Some people in gis I couldn't place _at_all_. Some Chinese practitioners, I think they were Wutang.
Finally, I found my group...but before then, I thought, "There's something about M.I.T. that makes you want to put on a costume and KICK THINGS."
(Next: Back at Caltech, watching veteran and inveterate dopers and acid heads come back to practice after a few years, looking pleased and desperate.)
Slashdot Mirror
(This is, incidentally, one of the reasons why pr0n is always one of the first applications of any new graphics technology, e.g. printing, lithography, dial-up BBS and CGA or Hercules: when the mind is intensely engaged, the limitations of the medium, ineptness of the plotting, and the crudeness of the rendering don't matter as much, and since pornography hacks the will of our Masters, the Genes, it guaranties engagement [but please don't marry it].)
Just launch a topic into the internets that is so interesting that the server[s] you wish to attack will presume that a DoS attack is in progress. Maybe via some sort of semi-popular forum....
Duh.
When Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra sang it in 'High Society':
We sing, so rare!
Like aged camembert!
Like [sung like the Whiffenpoove's song:] baba au rhum! [Crosby;] ba-ba-ba bum
[Sinatra:] Don't dig that kind of crooning, chum.
For another take: Debby Harry and Iggy Pop:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p6JukvxCwvU
---some unpleasant visuals, but I actually prefer the orchestration and vocals to Sinatra/Crosby, and it features a stoned-looking Harry expressing her opinion of sex at the end.
No answers.
I hope his parents, relatives, and their friends: Encourage his socialisation, but don't force it. Don't force his acceleration at school, but encourage it. Don't let him believe other people will be fine with his not being normal, because most of them won't (and Asperger's people tend to loathe lies), but don't try to make him normal, either. (Yes, they messed up with me, and I am bitter about it....) (Auto-diagnosed 1994, confirmed by professionals 1996, 1999, 2003.....)
There's a big difference between work and having a job; the first is necessary to get things done, the second I can only understand, and that not viscerally, as some sort of S&M game other people are into.
...it can yell 'Eat lead, sucker!!!' in a robotic monotone just before he shoots you.
More realistically*, you could have an intermediate state---we won't take you apart, but we won't give you any transplants, either---better add 'or let you vote' for first-order stability.
(Both systems actually suffer from the fact that people killed in this way may have friends and families...although people who die for lack of a transplant have them two, but one is much more direct and complaint-genic than the other.)
* ...which is not the same as 'realistically'
If Colbert as evil space-tyrant would just take the name 'Xenu II', we could just name it 'Xenu' and Colbert could still claim victory.
American society will cripple you, and then make fun of you for limping.
We, loosely construed, make fun of young people who do things for purely idealistic reasons ('I just want to write beautiful code and improve people's lives,'/'Shut up, Moonglow, go back to your yurt,') and then are dismayed to end up with a crop of careerists. Some may have unrealistic expectations, but I have not been in a start-up that wasn't rife with them...and, to be honest, I think most advances in our state come from a combination of practical knowledge and expectations that will seem unrealistic until they're not met. ('Sixty percent literacy? thou'rt moone-mad.' 'Hands-washing will prevent the Lying-in Fever? Yeah right.')
I guess the question of culpability really starts to come in when those expectations aren't met. In my arrogant and correct opinion, cursing the darkness is fine, as is believing that the world owes you a living---just so long as the air-flow doesn't blow out the candle you've lit, just as long as you understand that the world probably will have to be dunned for that living it owes you.
"White Light" for the seniors.
...a character has a pocket-sized screen that he enlarges by _stretching_ it. I think of this when browsing the Web on a mobile, especially iPhone-like devices with their stretching fingers-metaphor.
"same time." --> "same time?"
"ca " --> "can"
"off-world " --> "off-world."
Duh; too much caffeine, or not enough.
Just not having children is a much simpler solution---the absurd premise of "The Mark of Gideon" was that these people couldn't be sterilised, they healed so well. That's unlikely, with human beings---anyway, how is it that one has med tech good enough to create this sort of super-healing (which seems unlikely ab initio) but can't make it be contraceptive at the same time.
Anyway, there is no evidence that enough of us can get into space fast enough to make a difference on Earth. See here for an elaboration.
Technically, there is no indication that there are an "infinite" number of stars, and even if you mean "planet" by "universe", no proof yet that we ca flourish off-world (I like my bone mass, especially around my spinal cord.)
The fevered negative reaction this piece by Charles Stross produced makes me think he has a point.
0.) You fill out the environmental impact statement (because this is not Soviet Russia!).
1.) Do we want to get a lot of power from something so vulnerable to easily-deniable sabotage?
2.) Any such device could also pass muster as a death-ray; this might raise objections from a Major Creditor Nation.
They said 'multi-dimensional'. I believe that Apple are attempting to make Time Itself tightly coupled to their hardware and software.
Watch for the ad:
-I'm a Mac.
---And I'm a PC.
-I'm getting damn tired of you, so I'm going to kill your grandfather before you were born. [thumbs iPhone, vanishes]
---That's imposs [fades to nothing]
-[Reappears, faces camera] Now who's cheaper?
Of course then they might get sued by Candlejack bu
I remember a tape of a presentation at 1990's or '91's SIGGRAPH showing what looked like a very data-rich 3D file-browsing construct. It particularly noted how well we can track a preselected and highlighted object as the display rotated.
It might be that doing a barely-acceptable 3D desktop might be a much taller order than a barely-unacceptable, as opposed to 2D where we've seen more of a continuum between 'fail' and 'o.k.'.
...was how George Saunders put it in a good essay of that name.
It kills mould, it doesn't strip away much, it evaporates away....so use plenty, plenty, no even more than that ventilation.
When we saw "Pet Sematary" at a horror movie marathon, we were all getting a bit tired, so the comments flew fast. A major line in the film, referring to a spot of ground with the ability to resurrect pets buried in't (but it brings them back...wrong), was "Anyone ever bury a person up there?"
When, in the film, a truck crashed and totalled, , someone yelled out, "Anyone ever bury a truck up there?" I forget if it were I or my dear who shouted, "Anyone ever bury a script up there?
"Anyone ever bury a franchise up there?" Yes, Timmy, by all appearances, someone did.
It doesn't, in my case. I used to do a lot of it, but decided that the life extension and health benefits weren't worth the nausea, dizziness, and depression that inevitably came with exercise, as well as the horrible feeling of wet skin.
Fasting is easier.
...I was looking for the Shotokan (S.K.A.) practice session. I saw a bunch of people warming up in a a very familiar way...but they had coloured belts, so I thought, "Nope...J.K.F. or some other Shotokan group."
Next, I saw some guys in gis, and only black, brown, and white belts...but then I saw that their moves were kind of slinky....hmmm, Kyokushin, Oyama's people.
Next, a big group repeatedly kicking at shoulder-height or higher, coloured belts. Tae-kwon doh. Another bunch of people kicking at shoulder height...Tai Kwon Do? Some people in gis I couldn't place _at_all_. Some Chinese practitioners, I think they were Wutang.
Finally, I found my group...but before then, I thought, "There's something about M.I.T. that makes you want to put on a costume and KICK THINGS."
(Next: Back at Caltech, watching veteran and inveterate dopers and acid heads come back to practice after a few years, looking pleased and desperate.)
When I applied for grad school at the University of Chicago in 1983, their catalogue claimed that they had "marital arts" courses.
Cool, but I still don't want to do them in front of other people.
- - - - -
Did you know that well before it meant anything else, "FTW" meant "Fuck the World"?---at least that's what it meant in "Stickboy" comics.