I have not heard of the sculpture or the problem before, however, the article talks of using pictures -- piecing them together -- is it unavailable to the viewing public (close up)?
Or was it a logistic problem of distance?
I also assume that the "meaning" of the text is that somehow, while breaking the code, you are the creator's source? There is the physical piece and then the art is the effort in breaking the problem. Does this mean the piece is less transfixing since we know what it says?
Actually, the RIAA doesn't actually own anything. It's a legal organization which represents the music industry to congress, in any legal process, as a single point of information spewage. It allows for economies of scale, where every company doesn't have to fight the same battle. You get the picture.
"I was in the show once, best 21 days of my life. You know you don't carry your bags in the show? You hit white balls for batting practice, the stadiums are like cathedrals, and the women all have long legs and brains."
Recently, I was in the show. It wasn't a goal of mine to get to the show, it just happened, through luck or talent or both. It's not like you have a progress-bar to the show, to show how close or far you are. But one day, I showed up to read about ol' Ike, and there it was: 'you've been granted access to the show'.
Now, I'm not going to say I was Mr. Cool about it. It was a nice little surprise, so I read the link on how to act in the show and quickly went out and got stinking drunk, had sex, and woke up with an 85 year old woman. Yes, like that first grope in the back seat of Dad's Buick 88, I was spent before the bra was off. And so I sat, staring at my new wife -- with a tattoo I don't remember getting -- smoking a Kool Menthol asking, "Was it good for you too?" Naturally, my first experience in the show was a bust.
But that's the problem with the show, you know what to do technically, but you don't know the art of it. I endeavored to do a better job next time. But a better job at what? What exactly am I supposed to do? And that's what all the veterans know and all the rooks don't: the key is to influence the show.
Now I figured after such a spectacular flameout, I'd never get back to the show...
But then it happened again. And this time it was going to be different. I kept up with the flow, trying to route the conversation, looking for wicked turn-of-phrase, or a pun, or deep insight, and then I found it. Like Cap' Ahab, I said 'harpoon that som' bitch thar!' So I threw +1, and waited. And waited. And waited. And as the thundering herd came towards me I realized that the show would not turn for me, and I had a made a critical error. I was stampeded by pre-pubescent pimpled youngsters in Star Trek T-Shirts. I pulled myself from the muck to watch the thundering herd move farther and farther out of sight. I tried this again and again, to the same results. Needless to say, I ended up in the same seedy motel, waking and rolling to the same sight. I relit a used Kool and took a deep drag. My ass hurt and I had a sinking suspicion that my other buttocks said 'boat' which would have delighted the tattoo artist no end to finish his partially completed 'love'. I dared not look.
I had become the Gary Coleman of the show. I was starting to learn Spanish or French or whatever language is appropriate to disappear to the fringes of civilization. And disappear I did.
Arthur C. Clarke said all things come in threes, it's the way of the universe, ultimate karma, triple redundancy I think. And as the old man predicted, the random seed generator came up with my social, and beyond belief, it was time for a comeback to the show.
This time would be different, really. This time I would commit. The third base coach is telling me take a pitch, but I'm digging in for a big cut. That's what I didn't realize before: you have to commit. You have to go all in. You have to be willing to risk all in one swing in the show; you have to bend steel with your mind. The next Shakespeare or Dickens or Simmons is out there, and I'm going to find them, so I set the filter to -1 Uncut and Raw and step into the light...
As a person of non-color, I feel I can talk about my own caucasoid-brothers with the an aplumb rarely achieved in the mass media.
With that said, brother is the whitest man I have ever seen. You would think building rockets, out in the sun no less , would give the man a little color, but apparently not.
I understand his preteens were spent getting an RGB-Tan, but I think thats done something to him on a cellular-level. I mean he sheds light like Superman and bullets.
Dude, find a Darque-Tan now.
Peace out.
I know, at first I thought Slashdot had been hacked or defaced!
I have seen this book in the stores and it serves to fill in the little left-over space left behind by all the thicker, more-complete texts.
DO NOT MOD BELOW HERE:
I try and submit articles every now and usually to no avail. How clever to submit a Microsoft article under the guise of "research". Very clever. Like going against the grain coolness. Yes, very clever indeed.
SLASHDOT has various personalities, and I hope to be the first to document them all:
Project Manager - dude was an ex-coder (visual basic 3.0) and now is a low-level bottom-feeder working through slashdot so he has some vague ideo of the issues with technology.
Anonymous - dude is angry. Angry about something but not sure what. Against everything: hates all religions, colors, air.
Modder - points Nazi. God's irony incarnate. Why are those who have the least leadership skills always given a clipboard? Like getting a bathroom pass from the farting-kid.
Grandpa - dude is old. Waaaaayyy old. Like grandpa old. Runs a plain-text website. Talks about the early days of Usenet and punch cards. Senile.
The kid - 13 year old. Thinks coding full-time sounds like a wonderful career. Masturbates at Guiness Record Book pace.
The ranchero - Indian or Pakistani. Got his full-service corporate Internet access in Bombay or Kurachi and his call-center job. Has his PhD in math or science, feels he somehow part of the global village.
The survivalist - bro feels like if you dicuss something over and over somehow it will all be okay -- like Microsoft disappearing. Can't understand the cat is already out the bag and has humped everything in sight.
Her - d00d is a chick. A chick! Runs her blog, thinks she's a programmer.
The speller - d00d is seriously into grammer and spelling. On a site where the debate is around ideas, brother-man likes to make sure the semicolon is in the right place.
The Oz - australian d00d. "I come from the land down under, where women go and make thunder"
The napster - d00d is seriously into alternative-rock and the stealing thereof. Talks intelligently about music like one might discuss a Winslow Homer or the Illiad.
Lost in Translation - d00d cannot for the freaking life of anything find the home-row keys. o,rsm jpe jstf od yjsy"
The scientist - d00d is seriously into fractals, 3-d Math, fluid dynamics, cutting-edge chaos theory -- allbeit from afar because basic physics and calculus escape him.
The microsoft - d00d is seriously against MS. Can't stand the cursor, the fonts, the windows, the design, the icons, the sounds. Uses it extensively to play games.
The thinker - writes long missives. Attempts at humor, sarcasim, wit, and pun are laudable; posts two-stories ago.
Ben Franklin - d00d loves chaos. Every judicial ruling is "another nail in the coffin of freedom". Has third-grade perspective of common law.
The formater - d00d loves to use *HTML* *TAGS* to *CREATE* posting that are *REALLY* *GHAY*
SLASHDOT has various personalities, and I hope to be the first to document them all:
Project Manager - dude was an ex-coder (visual basic 3.0) and now is a low-level bottom-feeder working through slashdot so he has some vague ideo of the issues with technology.
Anonymous - dude is angry. Angry about something but not sure what. Against everything: hates all religions, colors, air.
Modder - points Nazi. God's irony incarnate. Why are those who have the least leadership skills always given a clipboard? Like getting a bathroom pass from the farting-kid.
Grandpa - dude is old. Waaaaayyy old. Like grandpa old. Runs a plain-text website. Talks about the early days of Usenet and punch cards. Senile.
The kid - 13 year old. Thinks coding full-time sounds like a wonderful career. Masturbates at Guiness Record Book pace.
The ranchero - Indian or Pakistani. Got his full-service corporate Internet access in Bombay or Kurachi and his call-center job. Has his PhD in math or science, feels he somehow part of the global village.
The survivalist - bro feels like if you dicuss something over and over somehow it will all be okay -- like Microsoft disappearing. Can't understand the cat is already out the bag and has humped everything in sight.
Her - d00d is a chick. A chick! Runs her blog, thinks she's a programmer.
The speller - d00d is seriously into grammer and spelling. On a site where the debate is around ideas, brother-man likes to make sure the semicolon is in the right place.
The Oz - australian d00d. "I come from the land down under, where women go and make thunder"
The napster - d00d is seriously into alternative-rock and the stealing thereof. Talks intelligently about music like one might discuss a Winslow Homer or the Illiad.
Lost in Translation - d00d cannot for the freaking life of anything find the home-row keys. o,rsm jpe jstf od yjsy"
The scientist - d00d is seriously into fractals, 3-d Math, fluid dynamics, cutting-edge chaos theory -- allbeit from afar because basic physics and calculus escape him.
The microsoft - d00d is seriously against MS. Can't stand the cursor, the fonts, the windows, the design, the icons, the sounds. Uses it extensively to play games.
The thinker - writes long missives. Attempts at humor, sarcasim, wit, and pun are laudable; posts two-stories ago.
Ben Franklin - d00d loves chaos. Every judicial ruling is "another nail in the coffin of freedom". Has third-grade perspective of common law.
The formater - d00d loves to use to create which are.
I'm always unclear about the due-process and what it really means. Even if the (censored) wanted to get your name, address, etc from your ISP or even if you get your phone service from (censored), (censored), or (censored); can they just storm in like (censored).
This is like 1984's (censored-police, where even thinking bad thoughts can get you on a list. I mean that doesn't happen these days, does it?
I really would like some feedback on this, does this piss-off the/. crowd? Someone check my results as well --
I have come to the realization that smoking has it's advantages. In my office building, I think, on average, it takes a person 15 minutes to take a smoke break. That is five minutes to walk downstairs, a ten minute smoke, and another five to return to your cubicle. Some might argue that 15 is too much time, some argue it's probably too little. But I think it's a good round number indicating, at the least, the total amount of time not working.
So, 15 minutes = 1 smoke break.
Now every once in a while I go outside to warm up from the air-conditioning or to catch a few rays and I always see the same smokers puffing away. The question is, how many smoke breaks does the average smoker take per day? I think it's four. That's one morning, one mid-morning, one mid-afternoon, one late-afternoon. Is this too frequent? I have a gut feel it's fairly accurate.
So, average smoker 4 smoke breaks per day. Given that 15 minutes is equal to one smoke break, that means in a given day, a smoker reduces his or her work day by one hour!
So, the non-smoker has to work 1 hour longer, on average, per day, than the smoker.
To make things equitable, the following should be allowed by the non-smoker (assume 8-5 workday, 20 business-day month):
Daily basis: Leave at 4 PM everyday. Weekly basis: Leave at 12:00 PM on Friday. Monthly basis: 2.5 days of vacation accumulated. Quarterly basis: 7.5 days of vacation accumulated. Six-month: 15 days of vacation accumulated. Yearly: 30 days of vacation accumulated (get December off!)
Saving it all up until retirement:
Retire 5 years early -- the rest is paid vacation!!!
Actually, at my current environment, we all run SMS (systems management server), so nightly there is a security tool which runs which determines which patches are applicable to you but have not been run. It then "queues" them up -- sometimes several at a time -- and then installs on a pre-determined schedule.
They've also pushed this to the server room, so now patches are thrown down on the servers.
The basic philosophy behind this is that we might have a production system go down for a while, but it's better than an enterprise wide outage.
It seems to me the genie is already out of the bottle, so to speak, and that somehow the music industry is trying to put it back in with lawsuits, DMCA, threats, etc.
How can you even remotely hope to somehow rein in the internet? Aren't you already fucked?
Oh my gawd the sky is falling. Find that hottie and do her in the stairwell (pun intended). Tell you boss to f#$&-off. Piss on your computer. Hump the water-cooler. Punch all the buttons on the elevator.
I'm unsure how I feel about "thinking" about anything in the context of what it really is, rather than what I think it should be. I was once stung by a bee -- and "thinking" to the contrary -- did not make me hurt less.
Here are the pitfalls of this article, and in fact, the entire class of so-called opinion pieces concerning technology:
And it gives its users greater control over the evolution of the underlying platform, putting the user firmly in control of product release timelines and rollout schedules. In short, with Linux, the balance of power has finally shifted back from company to user.
I'm not sure how this is supposed to happen. I'm a small-business, since technology in general is not under my core-competence I have zero systems people. I can't code nor change anything about my system, I don't care to read the manual I accept the default settings plus whatever basic user configuration is possible.
They need business models that preserve the magic that has made Linux what it is today.
Here is finally the thesis statement of the article. In paragraph 15. Yes, this is what we need. In fact, this statement is so bland I could use this for business -- not really thought-provoking:
"Poop needs business models that preserver the magic that has made Poop what it is today".
To do so, I reiterate, is to miss the entire point of Linux, because Linux is fundamentally different from traditional operating system products--both technologically and, for lack of a better word, culturally.
What is a traditional operating system? Is that like family-values? Is Linux some sort of all night-pill popping raver? I think Linux let's me access data on my harddrive. In fact, I'd say it's really not that revolutionary since it's, from a developer standpoint, UNIX. I'd say the old-school 70's UNIX culture is quite similar to the current LINUX culture.
At stake here is not just the commercial viability of Linux distributors but the Linux ecosystem itself.
Now here is the real kicker. I'm told that with LInux everything is compatbile I'm not locked into anything (see pro-Linux marketing). Now he's saying that's not the case, that I could be just as locked in. I guess it was always a possibility of Linux-LockIn(tm), but they lied to us?
Final thoughts: I hate articles like this that sort of re-heat and serve slightly tough on the edges. I think UNTIL you start thinking of LINUX as a viable contender to an average user you will continue to think of Linux as a process -- like flushing the toilet.
The day always starts early at Fog Creek Software. But it's 2003 and tech jobs are scarce what with the Indians, Siamese, Cambodians, and Chinese all cutting in.
Now I'm respecting of all religions, creeds, and philosophies, I just don't want it crammed down my throat. In fact, I don't want ANYTHING crammed down my throat. But I know coding. That's why I was hired. Cream always rises to the top. I used to work for a large Fortune-500 company, but that dried up a long-time ago. I've written some great things that companies are still using. I am good.
I wouldn't normally consider working for such a small company but I need a job BAD. It's just a matter of simple economics - supply and demand - too much supply too little demand. I've been on so many job interviews I can't even recall: I've done puzzles, brain-teasers, work-outs, flirted, done improvisation, duck-called, pretended to be a phone, had seven poly-graph tests, thirteen background checks, two MRIs, performed reflex analysis, brain-scans, and taken more Rorschach's than I care to remember. But interviewing with Joel at Fog Creek Software was the worst...
It all starts the same: he spills hot coffee on your crotch. Why, even after seeing other subjects being put through this torture, would that even remotely qualify as a probing interview technique I cannot being to fathom. So yes, everyone, three-minutes in, starts with a wet-crotch. I guess this gives him some sort of leg-up, him sitting there crotch dry and all. You, looking like a third-grade bed-wetter.
Next you're asked to don flippers and a diving mask. Your put into a harness and attached to rigging suspended from the ceiling. You are then WOOSHED from room to room like a bag of dry-cleaning. Even though my mask started to fog up later in the day, what I saw really troubled me. It was like Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. Some rooms were obvious sensory deprivation, other were bizarre crypts of some sort, others were oddly-reflective with some sort of mucus. WOOSH. A room, people yelling. WOOSH. Unspeakable acts of horror. WOOSH. Three-D images leaping towards me. WOOSH. Daylight and silence.
Joel enter pulls the release on my rigging and I slam to the floor. You have five minutes to code a string parse routine. It's quite easy and I'm done in three and spend the next two minutes on documentation. He is pleased.
Joel comes over to my cubicle for his mid-day shoulder rub (mine not his). I would like to say it makes me uncomfortable - at least more uncomfortable than his new-hire "interns" who always seem very prepubescent and hairless - but somehow I think sexual harassment laws don't cross his mind. I got a wife and a one-year old baby girl to support, I have to gut it out no matter how horrible, at least until the economy turns. I've been here a year and it seems like a lifetime and I think I'm changing for the worst.
I still think of those other rooms I'm not allowed in. Everyone once in a while I see an intern run back there, and I hear rumors. But for the most part people leave me alone to code - I don't take no shit.
Joel, seeing I'm done with my ASP for the day makes me read some very strange white-papers. Says he wants to say something profound for tomorrow's home-page. He thinks he's some sort of Moses - bringing righteousness to the people. Joel turns off the lights and makes me read by candlelight. I find the theme of the article and email him about UI is now OUT and "sensing" is now in. I'm sure I'll have to write that article as well.
I leave and turn out the lights...
I'll be here early tomorrow too because jobs are scare...and the day always starts early at Fog Creek Software...
Slashdot Mirror
I have not heard of the sculpture or the problem before, however, the article talks of using pictures -- piecing them together -- is it unavailable to the viewing public (close up)?
Or was it a logistic problem of distance?
I also assume that the "meaning" of the text is that somehow, while breaking the code, you are the creator's source? There is the physical piece and then the art is the effort in breaking the problem. Does this mean the piece is less transfixing since we know what it says?
Hmmmmmmmmmmm.
or are his eyes not on straight?
Too funny-
Peace Out.
or is on the express to become the latest door-stop, paper-weight, or landfill fodder. I don't think it's worth the investment.
...
Wait till Christmas
Actually, the RIAA doesn't actually own anything. It's a legal organization which represents the music industry to congress, in any legal process, as a single point of information spewage. It allows for economies of scale, where every company doesn't have to fight the same battle. You get the picture.
My Days in the Show
"I was in the show once, best 21 days of my life. You know you don't carry your bags in the show? You hit white balls for batting practice, the stadiums are like cathedrals, and the women all have long legs and brains."
Recently, I was in the show. It wasn't a goal of mine to get to the show, it just happened, through luck or talent or both. It's not like you have a progress-bar to the show, to show how close or far you are. But one day, I showed up to read about ol' Ike, and there it was: 'you've been granted access to the show'.
Now, I'm not going to say I was Mr. Cool about it. It was a nice little surprise, so I read the link on how to act in the show and quickly went out and got stinking drunk, had sex, and woke up with an 85 year old woman. Yes, like that first grope in the back seat of Dad's Buick 88, I was spent before the bra was off. And so I sat, staring at my new wife -- with a tattoo I don't remember getting -- smoking a Kool Menthol asking, "Was it good for you too?" Naturally, my first experience in the show was a bust.
But that's the problem with the show, you know what to do technically, but you don't know the art of it. I endeavored to do a better job next time. But a better job at what? What exactly am I supposed to do? And that's what all the veterans know and all the rooks don't: the key is to influence the show.
Now I figured after such a spectacular flameout, I'd never get back to the show...
But then it happened again. And this time it was going to be different. I kept up with the flow, trying to route the conversation, looking for wicked turn-of-phrase, or a pun, or deep insight, and then I found it. Like Cap' Ahab, I said 'harpoon that som' bitch thar!' So I threw +1, and waited. And waited. And waited. And as the thundering herd came towards me I realized that the show would not turn for me, and I had a made a critical error. I was stampeded by pre-pubescent pimpled youngsters in Star Trek T-Shirts. I pulled myself from the muck to watch the thundering herd move farther and farther out of sight. I tried this again and again, to the same results. Needless to say, I ended up in the same seedy motel, waking and rolling to the same sight. I relit a used Kool and took a deep drag. My ass hurt and I had a sinking suspicion that my other buttocks said 'boat' which would have delighted the tattoo artist no end to finish his partially completed 'love'. I dared not look.
I had become the Gary Coleman of the show. I was starting to learn Spanish or French or whatever language is appropriate to disappear to the fringes of civilization. And disappear I did.
Arthur C. Clarke said all things come in threes, it's the way of the universe, ultimate karma, triple redundancy I think. And as the old man predicted, the random seed generator came up with my social, and beyond belief, it was time for a comeback to the show.
This time would be different, really. This time I would commit. The third base coach is telling me take a pitch, but I'm digging in for a big cut. That's what I didn't realize before: you have to commit. You have to go all in. You have to be willing to risk all in one swing in the show; you have to bend steel with your mind. The next Shakespeare or Dickens or Simmons is out there, and I'm going to find them, so I set the filter to -1 Uncut and Raw and step into the light...
Doesn't www.redhat.com not reach that far? Do we need to lay some more cable?
Peace out.
When I first got on the internet, early 90's there was this asian magazine called shrimp something or another, nowadays you can't find it anywhere.
All the porn is locked up!
As a person of non-color, I feel I can talk about my own caucasoid-brothers with the an aplumb rarely achieved in the mass media. With that said, brother is the whitest man I have ever seen. You would think building rockets, out in the sun no less , would give the man a little color, but apparently not. I understand his preteens were spent getting an RGB-Tan, but I think thats done something to him on a cellular-level. I mean he sheds light like Superman and bullets. Dude, find a Darque-Tan now. Peace out.
I know, at first I thought Slashdot had been hacked or defaced!
I have seen this book in the stores and it serves to fill in the little left-over space left behind by all the thicker, more-complete texts.
DO NOT MOD BELOW HERE:
I try and submit articles every now and usually to no avail. How clever to submit a Microsoft article under the guise of "research". Very clever. Like going against the grain coolness. Yes, very clever indeed.
Peace out.
SLASHDOT has various personalities, and I hope to be the first to document them all:
,rsm jpe jstf od yjsy"
Project Manager - dude was an ex-coder (visual basic 3.0) and now is a low-level bottom-feeder working through slashdot so he has some vague ideo of the issues with technology.
Anonymous - dude is angry. Angry about something but not sure what. Against everything: hates all religions, colors, air.
Modder - points Nazi. God's irony incarnate. Why are those who have the least leadership skills always given a clipboard? Like getting a bathroom pass from the farting-kid.
Grandpa - dude is old. Waaaaayyy old. Like grandpa old. Runs a plain-text website. Talks about the early days of Usenet and punch cards. Senile.
The kid - 13 year old. Thinks coding full-time sounds like a wonderful career. Masturbates at Guiness Record Book pace.
The ranchero - Indian or Pakistani. Got his full-service corporate Internet access in Bombay or Kurachi and his call-center job. Has his PhD in math or science, feels he somehow part of the global village.
The survivalist - bro feels like if you dicuss something over and over somehow it will all be okay -- like Microsoft disappearing. Can't understand the cat is already out the bag and has humped everything in sight.
Her - d00d is a chick. A chick! Runs her blog, thinks she's a programmer.
The speller - d00d is seriously into grammer and spelling. On a site where the debate is around ideas, brother-man likes to make sure the semicolon is in the right place.
The Oz - australian d00d. "I come from the land down under, where women go and make thunder"
The napster - d00d is seriously into alternative-rock and the stealing thereof. Talks intelligently about music like one might discuss a Winslow Homer or the Illiad.
Lost in Translation - d00d cannot for the freaking life of anything find the home-row keys. o
The scientist - d00d is seriously into fractals, 3-d Math, fluid dynamics, cutting-edge chaos theory -- allbeit from afar because basic physics and calculus escape him.
The microsoft - d00d is seriously against MS. Can't stand the cursor, the fonts, the windows, the design, the icons, the sounds. Uses it extensively to play games.
The thinker - writes long missives. Attempts at humor, sarcasim, wit, and pun are laudable; posts two-stories ago.
Ben Franklin - d00d loves chaos. Every judicial ruling is "another nail in the coffin of freedom". Has third-grade perspective of common law.
The formater - d00d loves to use *HTML* *TAGS* to *CREATE* posting that are *REALLY* *GHAY*
SLASHDOT has various personalities, and I hope to be the first to document them all:
,rsm jpe jstf od yjsy"
.
Project Manager - dude was an ex-coder (visual basic 3.0) and now is a low-level bottom-feeder working through slashdot so he has some vague ideo of the issues with technology.
Anonymous - dude is angry. Angry about something but not sure what. Against everything: hates all religions, colors, air.
Modder - points Nazi. God's irony incarnate. Why are those who have the least leadership skills always given a clipboard? Like getting a bathroom pass from the farting-kid.
Grandpa - dude is old. Waaaaayyy old. Like grandpa old. Runs a plain-text website. Talks about the early days of Usenet and punch cards. Senile.
The kid - 13 year old. Thinks coding full-time sounds like a wonderful career. Masturbates at Guiness Record Book pace.
The ranchero - Indian or Pakistani. Got his full-service corporate Internet access in Bombay or Kurachi and his call-center job. Has his PhD in math or science, feels he somehow part of the global village.
The survivalist - bro feels like if you dicuss something over and over somehow it will all be okay -- like Microsoft disappearing. Can't understand the cat is already out the bag and has humped everything in sight.
Her - d00d is a chick. A chick! Runs her blog, thinks she's a programmer.
The speller - d00d is seriously into grammer and spelling. On a site where the debate is around ideas, brother-man likes to make sure the semicolon is in the right place.
The Oz - australian d00d. "I come from the land down under, where women go and make thunder"
The napster - d00d is seriously into alternative-rock and the stealing thereof. Talks intelligently about music like one might discuss a Winslow Homer or the Illiad.
Lost in Translation - d00d cannot for the freaking life of anything find the home-row keys. o
The scientist - d00d is seriously into fractals, 3-d Math, fluid dynamics, cutting-edge chaos theory -- allbeit from afar because basic physics and calculus escape him.
The microsoft - d00d is seriously against MS. Can't stand the cursor, the fonts, the windows, the design, the icons, the sounds. Uses it extensively to play games.
The thinker - writes long missives. Attempts at humor, sarcasim, wit, and pun are laudable; posts two-stories ago.
Ben Franklin - d00d loves chaos. Every judicial ruling is "another nail in the coffin of freedom". Has third-grade perspective of common law.
The formater - d00d loves to use to create which are
I'm always unclear about the due-process and what it really means. Even if the (censored) wanted to get your name, address, etc from your ISP or even if you get your phone service from (censored), (censored), or (censored); can they just storm in like (censored).
This is like 1984's (censored-police, where even thinking bad thoughts can get you on a list. I mean that doesn't happen these days, does it?
Sincerely,
(censored)
Why am I always being forced to upgrade, darnit?
I really would like some feedback on this, does this piss-off the /. crowd? Someone check my results as well --
I have come to the realization that smoking has it's advantages. In my office building, I think, on average, it takes a person 15 minutes to take a smoke break. That is five minutes to walk downstairs, a ten minute smoke, and another five to return to your cubicle. Some might argue that 15 is too much time, some argue it's probably too little. But I think it's a good round number indicating, at the least, the total amount of time not working.
So, 15 minutes = 1 smoke break.
Now every once in a while I go outside to warm up from the air-conditioning or to catch a few rays and I always see the same smokers puffing away. The question is, how many smoke breaks does the average smoker take per day? I think it's four. That's one morning, one mid-morning, one mid-afternoon, one late-afternoon. Is this too frequent? I have a gut feel it's fairly accurate.
So, average smoker 4 smoke breaks per day. Given that 15 minutes is equal to one smoke break, that means in a given day, a smoker reduces his or her work day by one hour!
So, the non-smoker has to work 1 hour longer, on average, per day, than the smoker.
To make things equitable, the following should be allowed by the non-smoker (assume 8-5 workday, 20 business-day month):
Daily basis: Leave at 4 PM everyday.
Weekly basis: Leave at 12:00 PM on Friday.
Monthly basis: 2.5 days of vacation accumulated.
Quarterly basis: 7.5 days of vacation accumulated.
Six-month: 15 days of vacation accumulated.
Yearly: 30 days of vacation accumulated (get December off!)
Saving it all up until retirement:
Retire 5 years early -- the rest is paid vacation!!!
Excuse me while I go take a smoke-break.
It was Professor Plum in the library with the candlestick!!!!
Actually, at my current environment, we all run SMS (systems management server), so nightly there is a security tool which runs which determines which patches are applicable to you but have not been run. It then "queues" them up -- sometimes several at a time -- and then installs on a pre-determined schedule.
They've also pushed this to the server room, so now patches are thrown down on the servers.
The basic philosophy behind this is that we might have a production system go down for a while, but it's better than an enterprise wide outage.
Peace out.
It seems to me the genie is already out of the bottle, so to speak, and that somehow the music industry is trying to put it back in with lawsuits, DMCA, threats, etc.
How can you even remotely hope to somehow rein in the internet? Aren't you already fucked?
"...it's entirely possible that these cognitive machines could be incorporated into most computer systems produced within 10 years."
Really? 10 years. Don't think so.
Oh my gawd the sky is falling. Find that hottie and do her in the stairwell (pun intended). Tell you boss to f#$&-off. Piss on your computer. Hump the water-cooler. Punch all the buttons on the elevator.
The end is here. God bless you all.
I'm unsure how I feel about "thinking" about anything in the context of what it really is, rather than what I think it should be. I was once stung by a bee -- and "thinking" to the contrary -- did not make me hurt less.
Here are the pitfalls of this article, and in fact, the entire class of so-called opinion pieces concerning technology:
And it gives its users greater control over the evolution of the underlying platform, putting the user firmly in control of product release timelines and rollout schedules. In short, with Linux, the balance of power has finally shifted back from company to user.
I'm not sure how this is supposed to happen. I'm a small-business, since technology in general is not under my core-competence I have zero systems people. I can't code nor change anything about my system, I don't care to read the manual I accept the default settings plus whatever basic user configuration is possible.
They need business models that preserve the magic that has made Linux what it is today.
Here is finally the thesis statement of the article. In paragraph 15. Yes, this is what we need. In fact, this statement is so bland I could use this for business -- not really thought-provoking:
"Poop needs business models that preserver the magic that has made Poop what it is today".
To do so, I reiterate, is to miss the entire point of Linux, because Linux is fundamentally different from traditional operating system products--both technologically and, for lack of a better word, culturally.
What is a traditional operating system? Is that like family-values? Is Linux some sort of all night-pill popping raver? I think Linux let's me access data on my harddrive. In fact, I'd say it's really not that revolutionary since it's, from a developer standpoint, UNIX. I'd say the old-school 70's UNIX culture is quite similar to the current LINUX culture.
At stake here is not just the commercial viability of Linux distributors but the Linux ecosystem itself.
Now here is the real kicker. I'm told that with LInux everything is compatbile I'm not locked into anything (see pro-Linux marketing). Now he's saying that's not the case, that I could be just as locked in. I guess it was always a possibility of Linux-LockIn(tm), but they lied to us?
Final thoughts: I hate articles like this that sort of re-heat and serve slightly tough on the edges. I think UNTIL you start thinking of LINUX as a viable contender to an average user you will continue to think of Linux as a process -- like flushing the toilet.
ditto
EPISODE I: DOWN AND OUT
...
The day always starts early at Fog Creek Software. But it's 2003 and tech jobs are scarce what with the Indians, Siamese, Cambodians, and Chinese all cutting in.
Now I'm respecting of all religions, creeds, and philosophies, I just don't want it crammed down my throat. In fact, I don't want ANYTHING crammed down my throat. But I know coding. That's why I was hired. Cream always rises to the top. I used to work for a large Fortune-500 company, but that dried up a long-time ago. I've written some great things that companies are still using. I am good.
I wouldn't normally consider working for such a small company but I need a job BAD. It's just a matter of simple economics - supply and demand - too much supply too little demand. I've been on so many job interviews I can't even recall: I've done puzzles, brain-teasers, work-outs, flirted, done improvisation, duck-called, pretended to be a phone, had seven poly-graph tests, thirteen background checks, two MRIs, performed reflex analysis, brain-scans, and taken more Rorschach's than I care to remember. But interviewing with Joel at Fog Creek Software was the worst...
It all starts the same: he spills hot coffee on your crotch. Why, even after seeing other subjects being put through this torture, would that even remotely qualify as a probing interview technique I cannot being to fathom. So yes, everyone, three-minutes in, starts with a wet-crotch. I guess this gives him some sort of leg-up, him sitting there crotch dry and all. You, looking like a third-grade bed-wetter.
Next you're asked to don flippers and a diving mask. Your put into a harness and attached to rigging suspended from the ceiling. You are then WOOSHED from room to room like a bag of dry-cleaning. Even though my mask started to fog up later in the day, what I saw really troubled me. It was like Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. Some rooms were obvious sensory deprivation, other were bizarre crypts of some sort, others were oddly-reflective with some sort of mucus. WOOSH. A room, people yelling. WOOSH. Unspeakable acts of horror. WOOSH. Three-D images leaping towards me. WOOSH. Daylight and silence.
Joel enter pulls the release on my rigging and I slam to the floor. You have five minutes to code a string parse routine. It's quite easy and I'm done in three and spend the next two minutes on documentation. He is pleased.
Joel comes over to my cubicle for his mid-day shoulder rub (mine not his). I would like to say it makes me uncomfortable - at least more uncomfortable than his new-hire "interns" who always seem very prepubescent and hairless - but somehow I think sexual harassment laws don't cross his mind. I got a wife and a one-year old baby girl to support, I have to gut it out no matter how horrible, at least until the economy turns. I've been here a year and it seems like a lifetime and I think I'm changing for the worst.
I still think of those other rooms I'm not allowed in. Everyone once in a while I see an intern run back there, and I hear rumors. But for the most part people leave me alone to code - I don't take no shit.
Joel, seeing I'm done with my ASP for the day makes me read some very strange white-papers. Says he wants to say something profound for tomorrow's home-page. He thinks he's some sort of Moses - bringing righteousness to the people. Joel turns off the lights and makes me read by candlelight. I find the theme of the article and email him about UI is now OUT and "sensing" is now in. I'm sure I'll have to write that article as well.
I leave and turn out the lights
I'll be here early tomorrow too because jobs are scare...and the day always starts early at Fog Creek Software...
I believe the former as opposed to the latter...
I don't know, for all it's faults, I sure like the price even if I have to dig a little....