My question is: What is the use of an instant messengee on the Wii without a keyboard, besides the usual 'Who's playing online, right now.' ??
I wonder if they plan to let the Wiimote function as a voip phone, and the instant messenger as a phonebook of sorts? Just speculation...
Bob and Andy is a true story about myself and a friend. In the following, the story continues, but Bob changes names to Nelson. In the end it is Bob?Nelson who makes the bad decisions. I, except for a few mistakes I made with teh F.B.I. am doing well at U.C. Davis pursuing a diploma.
> >
A Small Event
Nelson and I were friends from early childhood, on through high school. Of all my friends, I was closest to Nelson. After high school, Nelson left for San Fransisco, and then later, to Manhattan, New York. We chatted regularly over the next decade, although less of late.
We were going different directions, as is normal for people who's lives are traveling in different directions. I attended community college, while working small jobs to support my wife and son. Nelson was kept busy with a good job as an Outlook email specialist at a small, but promising network management firm. He had a beautiful apartment in Manhattan just five blocks from the fallen twin towers in Manhattan.
Nelson's visits home became less frequent. With the important exception of his mother Michelle, his relationship with his family was strained. His dad was an alcoholic, and his only sibling, an older brother named Jack, was mentally impaired with schizophrenic like symptoms. Jack was particularly difficult to deal with. Jack had the sort of local infamy that bred unpleasant rumors about the rest of the family, and not wholly undeserved. What can you say about the son of a white plum farmer who changed his last name to Chavez to become 'ethnic' enough to one day join the Black Panthers? Oddly, his former last name is associated more with African-American history than the Hispanic name he chose. With this backdrop, it is easy to understand the importance of Nelson's relationship with his mother who was sane, quite intelligent, and a great mother. Michelle was the anchor of Nelson's life, and he loved her enormously.
In May of 2005, I paid a visit to my parents and found Nelson standing in their kitchen. After pleasant exchanges, I invited Nelson over to my home for casual drinks that evening.
That evening I learned from Nelson that his mom was dying of lung cancer. I never knew quite what to say after terrible news was delivered. I knew his mom very well too. Since Nelson was the only person in his family capable of securing the best treatment for his mom, he left New York. Nelson arranged for an experimental treatment from a research group associated with UCLA.
Nearly a week later, I had just started a shift at my job as a barista at a coffee shop, Tazzi Rio Coffee and Tea. I usually work alone, but today the owner James was roasting a batch of some fine brazilian beans at the far end of the hard wood floor in a large antique brass roaster. I remember feeling particularly relaxed at work that day.
I had been on my shift for no longer than ten minutes when two men entered the front double doors. Both were tall, clean-cut and dressed in slacks and white shirts. They walked steadily towards the register counter behind which I stood. About midway, the dark haired man, stopped suddenly, stuck his hands in his trousers, and scanned the shop. The other man continued towards the counter holding a black wallet in his left hand. It was then that I was struck by this man's features. He had blond hair, fair skin to match, and clean blue eyes.
I gave a quick greeting, a smile, and asked them what drinks sounded good. For answer, he lifted up his wallet and let it fall open, waited three long seconds and said, "F.B.I.". The letters fell like a concussion in my head and the room became silent except for the sound of roasting beans. With his left hand, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a piece of fax paper. "Have you seen this man?" On it was Nelson's face.
The next moment was indescribable. A swirl of unfinished thoughts and questions which despite the complexity of the moment, managed only to produce the inane quest
If anybody asks I'll repost with breaks.. Oh and the Bob and Andy story is just a way to show how people of different social classes have difficulties understanding each other, and how the isolation between classes keeps the poor poor.
Bob and Andy is really about myself and a friend of mine.
Also, if interested in the story of Bob and Andy.. there is a follow up.. A very good story. Though I changed the names.. yeah I think I'll post it despite the ensuing off topic crap.
Fuck you, you elitest pig. You think that being poor means lazy. Fuck you, stupid ass. The poor built this country. They sweated tears as they dug trenches, made railroads, and dumped concrete. They pick fruit 10 hours a day in 100+ degree weather so you can eat. Most of the poor aren't lazy, or stupid.
It is easy when you grow up middle class or better. It is different when you start out poor.
read this:
Imagine if you will two children. Let us call them Bob and Andy. They are good friends who go out and explore the world together. Bob and Andy share their toys and fortunes. However, Bob and Andy have very different parents. Bob's parents have an established and successful business they plan to pass on to Bob when he is older. Andy's parents work for Bob's parents for minimum wage. The separate incomes did not stop them from being friends and sharing their experiences. Bob and Andy become very much alike because they influence each other and challenge each other. At times Andy is jealous of the new toys that Bob gets, but as Bob and Andy are good friends, they share.
After many years, they go their separate ways seeking their own fortune. Bob was set up for success by his parents and he has money enough to take care of himself to the end of his days. Andy tries his hand at college but fortune did not come his way. His girlfriend got pregnant. He must support his new family so he takes a job bussing tables. He is proud that he is providing enough for food, shelter and transportation, but his income does not allow for much more than the basics.
Bob just bought a beautiful luxury car that he is very proud to have. Bob had spent a couple of weeks looking for just the right car that would compliment his social status. Bob is proud of his taste and of his wealth. The cost of the car did not weigh heavily in his wallet or in his mind.
Andy loves playing the guitar. Andy saved money over several months to buy the guitar he saw in a store window. The guitar had a great sound and was not too pricy, coming in at 276 dollars. He is very proud of his taste in guitars, and of his patient dedication to saving for it bit by bit. However, the cost of the guitar still weighs in his mind even though his bills are paid. He wonders if he should have saved the money instead.
Andy and Bob decide to visit their parents and bump into each other. They decide to catch up over a dinner in town. Andy pays, not wanting to be shown up by his successful friend.
Andy tells Bob of his guitar and how beautiful its tone and responsiveness. Bob nods appreciably and compliments Andy taste. Andy then relates to Bob about his patient struggle to save up enough money for it. Fundamentally, Bob does not understand Andy's struggle. He has four guitars himself forgotten in his closet. He likes to bring them out for his musically inclined guests on occasion. Andy picked them out for Bob a couple of years before because Andy has good taste in guitars. The conversation dies down.
After dinner and on the way out to their cars Bob tells Andy about his beautiful new car, and Andy nods appreciably and compliments Bob on his taste. It is indeed a superbly designed vehicle. Even so, Andy is quietly thinking about how many years of Andy's rent, food and used-car payments Bob's car represents.
Andy is jealous of Bob's ability to provide. Bob notices two large dents in Andy's car and wonders why Andy's insurance did not get tem repaired. Andy wonders if he spent too much on dinner. Bob and Andy drive off.
Bob and Andy's ability to understand each other decays as implications of their respective socio-economic differences become more central to their daily experience.
Co-operation, friendship, and partnerships primarily occur when there is understanding between the respective parties. The cultural gulf between the two different social strata is such that communication is inhibited and mutual desires are less than congruent. The folk doctrines to success, "It's who you know, not what you know." and "It's not how much you know, i
Yeah I agree. Sure I enjoyed playing Halo against my brother-in-law.. but it hasn't motivated me to go buy one for myself. But now.. Well I'm already plotting how I can secure my wife's approval for spending two hundred dollars or so on a console... NOt going to be easy.
But we really should think of the children, no matter of the motives behind bringing this case to the courts. Child porn is rampant.
And I would suspect that the average porn seeker has unintentionally been exposed to images of rape of children many many times, since it is often intermixed with pictures of adult porn.
Massive exposure to erotic images with minors is bound to increase arousal at the sight of children eventually, as the conditioning effect of masturbation and these images are associated. It may be argued then, that not only does this consume and support this horrible industry, it creates more intentional consumers, in the long run.
Tell me. Is there a slashdotte here who has never had this thought? If so then fuck you. By the way, did I ask to be plus five insightful? IS you response plus five insightful? If you are accusing me of karma fishing, then I would respond that you are also.
It is long ago that I actually cared about karma. I have had positive karma for several years, and its been very stable. If you look at my history, I have not been particulary successfull at obtaining karma of any form, mostly due to my lack of interest. You, with a default score of 1 have may have a motive to accumulate karma.
moderators. PLease mod the shit out of this post until it is so low that Even I cannot see it.
Slashdot Mirror
Hey. Thanks for letting me know.
I agree. People complain that about iTunes and their propietary format, and yet lo and behold, I can play it with winamp with a plug in.
Slashdot IQ Poll-check!
My question is: What is the use of an instant messengee on the Wii without a keyboard, besides the usual 'Who's playing online, right now.' ?? I wonder if they plan to let the Wiimote function as a voip phone, and the instant messenger as a phonebook of sorts? Just speculation...
"OR" is not "XOR". I don't think there were any dichotomies in the parent since the OR was not exclusive.
Internet does not equal America. Oh and if it does willthis show that soccer is king of footballs?
cool sig
> >
A Small Event Nelson and I were friends from early childhood, on through high school. Of all my friends, I was closest to Nelson. After high school, Nelson left for San Fransisco, and then later, to Manhattan, New York. We chatted regularly over the next decade, although less of late.
We were going different directions, as is normal for people who's lives are traveling in different directions. I attended community college, while working small jobs to support my wife and son. Nelson was kept busy with a good job as an Outlook email specialist at a small, but promising network management firm. He had a beautiful apartment in Manhattan just five blocks from the fallen twin towers in Manhattan.
Nelson's visits home became less frequent. With the important exception of his mother Michelle, his relationship with his family was strained. His dad was an alcoholic, and his only sibling, an older brother named Jack, was mentally impaired with schizophrenic like symptoms. Jack was particularly difficult to deal with. Jack had the sort of local infamy that bred unpleasant rumors about the rest of the family, and not wholly undeserved. What can you say about the son of a white plum farmer who changed his last name to Chavez to become 'ethnic' enough to one day join the Black Panthers? Oddly, his former last name is associated more with African-American history than the Hispanic name he chose. With this backdrop, it is easy to understand the importance of Nelson's relationship with his mother who was sane, quite intelligent, and a great mother. Michelle was the anchor of Nelson's life, and he loved her enormously.
In May of 2005, I paid a visit to my parents and found Nelson standing in their kitchen. After pleasant exchanges, I invited Nelson over to my home for casual drinks that evening.
That evening I learned from Nelson that his mom was dying of lung cancer. I never knew quite what to say after terrible news was delivered. I knew his mom very well too. Since Nelson was the only person in his family capable of securing the best treatment for his mom, he left New York. Nelson arranged for an experimental treatment from a research group associated with UCLA.
Nearly a week later, I had just started a shift at my job as a barista at a coffee shop, Tazzi Rio Coffee and Tea. I usually work alone, but today the owner James was roasting a batch of some fine brazilian beans at the far end of the hard wood floor in a large antique brass roaster. I remember feeling particularly relaxed at work that day.
I had been on my shift for no longer than ten minutes when two men entered the front double doors. Both were tall, clean-cut and dressed in slacks and white shirts. They walked steadily towards the register counter behind which I stood. About midway, the dark haired man, stopped suddenly, stuck his hands in his trousers, and scanned the shop. The other man continued towards the counter holding a black wallet in his left hand. It was then that I was struck by this man's features. He had blond hair, fair skin to match, and clean blue eyes.
I gave a quick greeting, a smile, and asked them what drinks sounded good. For answer, he lifted up his wallet and let it fall open, waited three long seconds and said, "F.B.I.". The letters fell like a concussion in my head and the room became silent except for the sound of roasting beans. With his left hand, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a piece of fax paper. "Have you seen this man?" On it was Nelson's face.
The next moment was indescribable. A swirl of unfinished thoughts and questions which despite the complexity of the moment, managed only to produce the inane quest
about
the
lack
of
breaks.
If anybody asks I'll repost with breaks.. Oh and the Bob and Andy story is just a way to show how people of different social classes have difficulties understanding each other, and how the isolation between classes keeps the poor poor.
Bob and Andy is really about myself and a friend of mine. Also, if interested in the story of Bob and Andy.. there is a follow up.. A very good story. Though I changed the names.. yeah I think I'll post it despite the ensuing off topic crap.
It is easy when you grow up middle class or better. It is different when you start out poor. read this: Imagine if you will two children. Let us call them Bob and Andy. They are good friends who go out and explore the world together. Bob and Andy share their toys and fortunes. However, Bob and Andy have very different parents. Bob's parents have an established and successful business they plan to pass on to Bob when he is older. Andy's parents work for Bob's parents for minimum wage. The separate incomes did not stop them from being friends and sharing their experiences. Bob and Andy become very much alike because they influence each other and challenge each other. At times Andy is jealous of the new toys that Bob gets, but as Bob and Andy are good friends, they share. After many years, they go their separate ways seeking their own fortune. Bob was set up for success by his parents and he has money enough to take care of himself to the end of his days. Andy tries his hand at college but fortune did not come his way. His girlfriend got pregnant. He must support his new family so he takes a job bussing tables. He is proud that he is providing enough for food, shelter and transportation, but his income does not allow for much more than the basics. Bob just bought a beautiful luxury car that he is very proud to have. Bob had spent a couple of weeks looking for just the right car that would compliment his social status. Bob is proud of his taste and of his wealth. The cost of the car did not weigh heavily in his wallet or in his mind. Andy loves playing the guitar. Andy saved money over several months to buy the guitar he saw in a store window. The guitar had a great sound and was not too pricy, coming in at 276 dollars. He is very proud of his taste in guitars, and of his patient dedication to saving for it bit by bit. However, the cost of the guitar still weighs in his mind even though his bills are paid. He wonders if he should have saved the money instead. Andy and Bob decide to visit their parents and bump into each other. They decide to catch up over a dinner in town. Andy pays, not wanting to be shown up by his successful friend. Andy tells Bob of his guitar and how beautiful its tone and responsiveness. Bob nods appreciably and compliments Andy taste. Andy then relates to Bob about his patient struggle to save up enough money for it. Fundamentally, Bob does not understand Andy's struggle. He has four guitars himself forgotten in his closet. He likes to bring them out for his musically inclined guests on occasion. Andy picked them out for Bob a couple of years before because Andy has good taste in guitars. The conversation dies down. After dinner and on the way out to their cars Bob tells Andy about his beautiful new car, and Andy nods appreciably and compliments Bob on his taste. It is indeed a superbly designed vehicle. Even so, Andy is quietly thinking about how many years of Andy's rent, food and used-car payments Bob's car represents. Andy is jealous of Bob's ability to provide. Bob notices two large dents in Andy's car and wonders why Andy's insurance did not get tem repaired. Andy wonders if he spent too much on dinner. Bob and Andy drive off. Bob and Andy's ability to understand each other decays as implications of their respective socio-economic differences become more central to their daily experience. Co-operation, friendship, and partnerships primarily occur when there is understanding between the respective parties. The cultural gulf between the two different social strata is such that communication is inhibited and mutual desires are less than congruent. The folk doctrines to success, "It's who you know, not what you know." and "It's not how much you know, i
Yeah I agree. Sure I enjoyed playing Halo against my brother-in-law.. but it hasn't motivated me to go buy one for myself. But now.. Well I'm already plotting how I can secure my wife's approval for spending two hundred dollars or so on a console... NOt going to be easy.
BUt on the Xbox you can't rape the prostitutes with you Wii.
27 games will be on the floor tomorrow. Relax and wait.
So they will get the christmas rush.. is this some of the greatest execution ever by any company in the industry?
amen brother. My university gave me a nice loan for a new computer.. but they will not give me one for a ps3.
Have you heard of google?
Is Microsoft planning on joining Google in the child porn industry?
And I would suspect that the average porn seeker has unintentionally been exposed to images of rape of children many many times, since it is often intermixed with pictures of adult porn.
Massive exposure to erotic images with minors is bound to increase arousal at the sight of children eventually, as the conditioning effect of masturbation and these images are associated. It may be argued then, that not only does this consume and support this horrible industry, it creates more intentional consumers, in the long run.
smokin too much Wiid.
Don't act like you know how they really conducted their study. Shit. Not me, either.
They should have the creators of the autonoms cars drive on the street with their creation.
Well I guess because the comedians aren't BUSHY WHIPPED.
I Meant mod down my post, but I didn't write that clearly. Have a good evening.
It is long ago that I actually cared about karma. I have had positive karma for several years, and its been very stable. If you look at my history, I have not been particulary successfull at obtaining karma of any form, mostly due to my lack of interest. You, with a default score of 1 have may have a motive to accumulate karma.
moderators. PLease mod the shit out of this post until it is so low that Even I cannot see it.
I'm not a physicist, just a failed computer scientist who is now enjoying the relaxations of psychology.