Tuesday, May 31, 2005
A nice week, and a nice weekend, but really not that much to write about. The one notable, neat piece of information is that I got my *grades* this week, and got and A- in Pattern recognition and an A in Adaptive Signal Processing, both of which are awesome, and both of which are higher than I was expecting.
I’ve also started work on my summer class, which promises to be *much* easier than last semester. Much, much much. Good for that. Very good.
And then, of course, there was a four day weekend, because I work extra so that I get every other Friday off, and that means a lot of relaxing for yours truly. Nothing too amazing though.
So in lieu of intriguing personal anecdotes…storytime.
* * * *
I’ve mentioned my rebellions against my parents food choices before, but it’s not all reactionary. As a youth I was always jealous of my friends who got white bread PB&J in their lunches, while I was always stuck with some sort of wheat bread. White bread was so cool! It was so sweet as to be almost powdered sugar, and really only functioned as a delivery system to get the sweet jelly and sticky peanut butter into your mouth. And who hasn’t, at some point, taken a slice or three of white bread and crushed it into a square that you could eat all in one bite. That’s about as close as a 5-year-old can get to a feeling of *real power*, and it’s probably where they got the carbo-loading idea for Powerbars. They’re probably just bars of compressed white bread.
But I never got that kinda bread. I got icky, nasty, wheat bread. Blech. It always had seeds, and bitey bits, and it got in the way of my enjoyment of raw PB&J. As a matter of fact, I don’t think we ever bought white bread…which makes me wonder where I ever ate it…probably in some school lunch somewhere.
So you’d expect this story to continue about my rebellion in college and how I ate nothing but PB&J on white bread for my entire freshman year, but you’d be wrong.
As I developed a taste for bread, and I mean *real* bread, not nappylame fakestuff, I never really got into the whole wonderbread phenomenon. It was too flat, too boring, to lame. Besides, I could flatten an entire loaf into two slices that I could use on a single sandwich, and that’s just not good economics. As time has worn on, I’ve become fans of granier and granier breads. It’s good stuff.
But I’ve run into a problem. Orowheat, once bane of my childhood lunches, has found a way to lure me into a deep spiral of confusion from which there is no escape.
When I was young, the Magnum Opus of our bread consumption was Orowheat ‘7-Grain’. I still like it a lot. It’s got body, and fullness, and a good nutty crunch. But since I’ve been shopping on my own, they’ve come up with a new bread. ’13-Grain’. Now obviously, 13 grains are better than 7 grains by about…well…about 5. So that’s an easy choice to make, go with the grainer ones.
But there’s a new bread in town. And it’s thrown off the whole equation. The ever-nebulous ‘multi-grain’.
Now multi-grain could mean anything. Any number from 2 to an INFINITE number of grains. There’s no way to know! No way at all. Casual observation gives the look of a few salient grains right off the bat, so it’s not like they’re cheating us low, but the question of ‘the grainiest bread’ is now up for debate. And there’s no way to resolve the question. I could calculated the expected value of the number of grains (engineer humor) but I don’t know anything about the underlying Probability Density Function, not a thing. There’s not even any way to be sure that the number of grains are consistent across loafs…I may be dealing with a nonstationary function of the number of grains. Suddenly we’re into some pretty deep math, here.
Now I’ve run some initial calculations, and I’m roughly 38.2% certain that Multigrain is not more grainy than 13 grain, but that’s assuming a Gaussian distribution of grain numbers with stationary statistics, and there’s no way to prove that.
For now, I’m just sticking with the 13 grain for the most part, only picking up Multigrain to build on my statistical knowledge of the grain statistics, and I only do this because I got kicked out of Ralphs for opening up all the Multigrain loafs and trying to count the individual grains over enough slices to get a significant sample space. They’ve let me back in, but I have to go through the bread aisle under escort. I’m thinking about writing Orowheat themselves to see if they know, and if they’re willing to tell, but I’m guessing it’s probably proprietary information. I may have to break in to corporate headquarters and abduct on of their grain engineers, but you didn’t hear that here.
-N
P.S. No, I haven’t done any real studies on the graininess of my bread. I only do engineering when I *have* to these days.
I’ve also started work on my summer class, which promises to be *much* easier than last semester. Much, much much. Good for that. Very good.
And then, of course, there was a four day weekend, because I work extra so that I get every other Friday off, and that means a lot of relaxing for yours truly. Nothing too amazing though.
So in lieu of intriguing personal anecdotes…storytime.
* * * *
I’ve mentioned my rebellions against my parents food choices before, but it’s not all reactionary. As a youth I was always jealous of my friends who got white bread PB&J in their lunches, while I was always stuck with some sort of wheat bread. White bread was so cool! It was so sweet as to be almost powdered sugar, and really only functioned as a delivery system to get the sweet jelly and sticky peanut butter into your mouth. And who hasn’t, at some point, taken a slice or three of white bread and crushed it into a square that you could eat all in one bite. That’s about as close as a 5-year-old can get to a feeling of *real power*, and it’s probably where they got the carbo-loading idea for Powerbars. They’re probably just bars of compressed white bread.
But I never got that kinda bread. I got icky, nasty, wheat bread. Blech. It always had seeds, and bitey bits, and it got in the way of my enjoyment of raw PB&J. As a matter of fact, I don’t think we ever bought white bread…which makes me wonder where I ever ate it…probably in some school lunch somewhere.
So you’d expect this story to continue about my rebellion in college and how I ate nothing but PB&J on white bread for my entire freshman year, but you’d be wrong.
As I developed a taste for bread, and I mean *real* bread, not nappylame fakestuff, I never really got into the whole wonderbread phenomenon. It was too flat, too boring, to lame. Besides, I could flatten an entire loaf into two slices that I could use on a single sandwich, and that’s just not good economics. As time has worn on, I’ve become fans of granier and granier breads. It’s good stuff.
But I’ve run into a problem. Orowheat, once bane of my childhood lunches, has found a way to lure me into a deep spiral of confusion from which there is no escape.
When I was young, the Magnum Opus of our bread consumption was Orowheat ‘7-Grain’. I still like it a lot. It’s got body, and fullness, and a good nutty crunch. But since I’ve been shopping on my own, they’ve come up with a new bread. ’13-Grain’. Now obviously, 13 grains are better than 7 grains by about…well…about 5. So that’s an easy choice to make, go with the grainer ones.
But there’s a new bread in town. And it’s thrown off the whole equation. The ever-nebulous ‘multi-grain’.
Now multi-grain could mean anything. Any number from 2 to an INFINITE number of grains. There’s no way to know! No way at all. Casual observation gives the look of a few salient grains right off the bat, so it’s not like they’re cheating us low, but the question of ‘the grainiest bread’ is now up for debate. And there’s no way to resolve the question. I could calculated the expected value of the number of grains (engineer humor) but I don’t know anything about the underlying Probability Density Function, not a thing. There’s not even any way to be sure that the number of grains are consistent across loafs…I may be dealing with a nonstationary function of the number of grains. Suddenly we’re into some pretty deep math, here.
Now I’ve run some initial calculations, and I’m roughly 38.2% certain that Multigrain is not more grainy than 13 grain, but that’s assuming a Gaussian distribution of grain numbers with stationary statistics, and there’s no way to prove that.
For now, I’m just sticking with the 13 grain for the most part, only picking up Multigrain to build on my statistical knowledge of the grain statistics, and I only do this because I got kicked out of Ralphs for opening up all the Multigrain loafs and trying to count the individual grains over enough slices to get a significant sample space. They’ve let me back in, but I have to go through the bread aisle under escort. I’m thinking about writing Orowheat themselves to see if they know, and if they’re willing to tell, but I’m guessing it’s probably proprietary information. I may have to break in to corporate headquarters and abduct on of their grain engineers, but you didn’t hear that here.
-N
P.S. No, I haven’t done any real studies on the graininess of my bread. I only do engineering when I *have* to these days.
Friday, May 20, 2005
*Achem*...
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL! GOAL-A-GOAL-A-GOOOOOOOOAL!
Victory Number 1) Brown belt with Red stripe
I tested for my Brown belt with one red stripe this week, and passed quite well, I believe. I made an error on my form, but didn't allow it to phase me and continued the form with snap and power and grace. Board break was a snap (and so much fun!) and my sparing class went pretty well, dispite the fact that I normally think I spar *very* badly, I'm getting some variety in my kicks. I still need to work on combos, though. Hitting my opponent doesn't mean I can stop, It means I definitely need to keep kicking. And if he slips back, chase him down. He can't do anything while he's moving back. Press the advantage.
And believe it or not, this was the smallest of my victories.
Victory Number 2) Multi-Disciplined Engineer II
I got promoted! Raytheon does promotions/raises once a year, probably because it takes them 3 or 4 months to go through the whole process. Raises were, by and large, pretty lousy this year, but the wierd news was that it looked like I wansn't going to get promoted *because I was on fellowship*. See if this makes sense to you. Not only did I do all the work normally required to get someone promoted to E2, I also took a bunch of classes toward my masters degree. If that ain't above and beyond, I don't know what is. But, oddly enough, due to some managerial fluke, someone got it in their heads that fellowship people don't get promoted, and so when I got my raise a week or so ago, I was still E2. Bummer, but they said they'd be able to promote me in December, so I'd only loose a little time, and then I'd be right back on cycle.
Well, good news! Management got off it's collective butt (due to much prodding by my section manager and various project bosses, I suspect) and got me promoted. Bam! E2! I don't know if there is an associated raise, or when that shows up. But bam! Bazow, even. Booyah.
And what else...there was some other thing what was it...some other victory...oh, it's on the tip of my tongue...
3)
GRADE INFORMATION, Spring Term 2005
Course ID Attempted Earned Grades Units Points Course Title
EE-583_3.0_____3.0_______A_____3.0 12.00 Adaptive Signal Processing
EE-559_3.0_____3.0_______A-____3.0 11.10 Mathematical Pattern Recognition
Oh yeah, that. Mmmmgooooooooooal!
Went out to Volleyball on friday, which was quite nice. Saturday I'm heading out to a 'goodbye' party for a fellow co-worker on the beach. Going to be sand, sun, fun, and BBQ! *Gnarmf!* I'm bringing guacamole, because it makes everything better. I'd make my own, but I'm a touch short on time and drive. Next time, perhaps, I do love me a good avacado recipie.
Schoooooooool has started again, too. Yeehaw. Whoop. But it's only one class, so I'm at least *more* okay with that then I have been in the past.
Derek and I have been playing an MMORPG called Guild Wars. Anyone else on there? I'm not yet sure how it compares to some of the other ones i've played, but should I decide to abandon it, the fact that it has *no monthly fees* means I don't have to worry about it. NO stress video gaming, I can appreciate that.
It's been a good week for nerds. Not only has Episode 3 finally come out, and not only does it, so I hear, not suck but E3, the Electronic Entertainment Expo was this week. E3 is a humungitoid gaming convention, where all the big new games for the year are announced, demo-ed, and shown off for the hungry gaming public. This year, Sony, Nintendo, and Microsoft *all* announced their next-generation consoles. I am very excited about this fact, especially given that I have a job, and money, and can just buy all three of them without even thinking. That's power.
I've been reading sci-fi and fantasy again. Chortle if you will, but I like reading 'easy' books like that a lot. No deep subtext, no hidden meaning, and no long, skeery words. Just good story, or at least, the good ones have a good story. I'll post up some of my fanatasy novel reviews later. But the reason I'm reading is that I found some sort of wierd/awesome discount bookstore near my house. I'm not sure quite what it does, or how it works, all I know is that all the books there are old, the selection is incredibly random, and the prices are crazy-low-cheap. But being as I don't really know what kind of novels I'm looking for anyway, this works fine for me.
Time for other pursuits. Love you all!
-N
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL! GOAL-A-GOAL-A-GOOOOOOOOAL!
Victory Number 1) Brown belt with Red stripe
I tested for my Brown belt with one red stripe this week, and passed quite well, I believe. I made an error on my form, but didn't allow it to phase me and continued the form with snap and power and grace. Board break was a snap (and so much fun!) and my sparing class went pretty well, dispite the fact that I normally think I spar *very* badly, I'm getting some variety in my kicks. I still need to work on combos, though. Hitting my opponent doesn't mean I can stop, It means I definitely need to keep kicking. And if he slips back, chase him down. He can't do anything while he's moving back. Press the advantage.
And believe it or not, this was the smallest of my victories.
Victory Number 2) Multi-Disciplined Engineer II
I got promoted! Raytheon does promotions/raises once a year, probably because it takes them 3 or 4 months to go through the whole process. Raises were, by and large, pretty lousy this year, but the wierd news was that it looked like I wansn't going to get promoted *because I was on fellowship*. See if this makes sense to you. Not only did I do all the work normally required to get someone promoted to E2, I also took a bunch of classes toward my masters degree. If that ain't above and beyond, I don't know what is. But, oddly enough, due to some managerial fluke, someone got it in their heads that fellowship people don't get promoted, and so when I got my raise a week or so ago, I was still E2. Bummer, but they said they'd be able to promote me in December, so I'd only loose a little time, and then I'd be right back on cycle.
Well, good news! Management got off it's collective butt (due to much prodding by my section manager and various project bosses, I suspect) and got me promoted. Bam! E2! I don't know if there is an associated raise, or when that shows up. But bam! Bazow, even. Booyah.
And what else...there was some other thing what was it...some other victory...oh, it's on the tip of my tongue...
3)
GRADE INFORMATION, Spring Term 2005
Course ID Attempted Earned Grades Units Points Course Title
EE-583_3.0_____3.0_______A_____3.0 12.00 Adaptive Signal Processing
EE-559_3.0_____3.0_______A-____3.0 11.10 Mathematical Pattern Recognition
Oh yeah, that. Mmmmgooooooooooal!
Went out to Volleyball on friday, which was quite nice. Saturday I'm heading out to a 'goodbye' party for a fellow co-worker on the beach. Going to be sand, sun, fun, and BBQ! *Gnarmf!* I'm bringing guacamole, because it makes everything better. I'd make my own, but I'm a touch short on time and drive. Next time, perhaps, I do love me a good avacado recipie.
Schoooooooool has started again, too. Yeehaw. Whoop. But it's only one class, so I'm at least *more* okay with that then I have been in the past.
Derek and I have been playing an MMORPG called Guild Wars. Anyone else on there? I'm not yet sure how it compares to some of the other ones i've played, but should I decide to abandon it, the fact that it has *no monthly fees* means I don't have to worry about it. NO stress video gaming, I can appreciate that.
It's been a good week for nerds. Not only has Episode 3 finally come out, and not only does it, so I hear, not suck but E3, the Electronic Entertainment Expo was this week. E3 is a humungitoid gaming convention, where all the big new games for the year are announced, demo-ed, and shown off for the hungry gaming public. This year, Sony, Nintendo, and Microsoft *all* announced their next-generation consoles. I am very excited about this fact, especially given that I have a job, and money, and can just buy all three of them without even thinking. That's power.
I've been reading sci-fi and fantasy again. Chortle if you will, but I like reading 'easy' books like that a lot. No deep subtext, no hidden meaning, and no long, skeery words. Just good story, or at least, the good ones have a good story. I'll post up some of my fanatasy novel reviews later. But the reason I'm reading is that I found some sort of wierd/awesome discount bookstore near my house. I'm not sure quite what it does, or how it works, all I know is that all the books there are old, the selection is incredibly random, and the prices are crazy-low-cheap. But being as I don't really know what kind of novels I'm looking for anyway, this works fine for me.
Time for other pursuits. Love you all!
-N
Monday, May 09, 2005
...
Go here.
It's amazing mostly because there are so many people out there that have the same insecurities as me. Even insecurities I didn't know I had.
They're right. And so do I.
-N
Go here.
It's amazing mostly because there are so many people out there that have the same insecurities as me. Even insecurities I didn't know I had.
They're right. And so do I.
-N
Sunday, May 08, 2005
I have just solved one of the greatest problems of all time. Feel free to applaud.
* * * *
I was doing my laundry a few days ago when it hit me. This should tell you something about how much brainpower I put into folding clothes and how much brainpower I put into daydreaming.
Now I haven’t been shopping in over a year, now. It was March ’04 I last went out and bought any new clothes, and I have a few that with have been with me since my early years in college. So that should tell you something about the average age of my clothes. They’re old.
But I was struck by something odd as I was doing my laundry. Something strange was tugging at my brain. The linchpin around which, it turns out, everything else in this world may very well turn.
The lint trap.
I have been washing these clothes for years and years and years, and every time I dry them out, I empty the lint trap. It’s not much, but there’s always something there to clean out, always a small handful of random fibers that have detached themselves to my clothes. There’s always something there, every few weeks, for years upon years.
And yet, I still have the same clothes.
Think about it. Think about all the times you’ve ever emptied the lint trap. Think about all the volume that represents. Why, you’d expect to have clothes falling apart with all the fibers that seem to be falling out of them every week. But I’ve been washing my laundry for years, and I still have all the same pieces. Where does all that volume come from? Conservation of mass, it has to come from something, right? But where? It’s all still there, with no holes, no wear and tear, nothing lost…
…Except for my socks.
Think about it! It makes perfect sense. What is the one question that mankind, despite all its scientific prowess and studies, has never been able to answer? Right! What happens to all those odd socks?
Every time you wash your clothes, you get lint. It’s inevitable, can’t be helped. And when your clothes loose that much mass over such a long period of time, there has to be some counterbalance. There has to be something feeding into the system. That something is your socks.
It’s the only thing that makes sense, the only part of the system that seems to have any mass coming in. As your clothes begin to degrade, your washer (or dryer, I’m not sure which) deconstructs a sock and uses the resulting mass to reconstruct the mass lost to lint in the rest of your clothes. So every time you end up with an odd sock, your clothes are getting that much more reconstructed.
And what a perfect source, too! Socks aren’t important. People don’t worry about loosing a thousand-dollar sock in the wash somewhere. They’re made of enough varying material that there’s certainly enough raw molecular diversity to reconstruct all sorts of clothes, and people are always buying new socks. I haven’t gone shopping for big clothes in a while, but sure I buy socks on occasion. Who doesn’t? Plus if you loose one, there’s a good chance you have 6 or 7 of the same type, and so it’s no big loss.
But the next big question is, how?
Well, the obvious first option would be some sort of clever nanotechnology. Millions of tiny, microscopic robots swarm into your washer (or dryer), deconstruct a sock, and use the resulting mass to build up the rest of your clothes. Then they take the rest of the mass they don’t need and store it somewhere in the washer (or dryer) for use later. When they run out of mass, they deconstruct another sock.
But there’s one problem with this theory. If the washing-machine cartels had the ability to make this kind of technology, they’d be able to create all sorts of similarly useful things using the same nanotechnology. The washing-machine cartels would be more powerful than Microsoft. But they’re not. Same with a lot of other, similar technologies. If the washing-machine cartels had the ability to do this, why not simply go public with the technology and make millions?
It’s because they can’t tell us.
So what are we looking at here? We’re looking at some sort of incredibly powerful device, technique, or method that allows for incredibly detailed and complicated textile reconstruction, but it would have to be something that the washing-machine cartel couldn’t go public with. Something they have to keep secret. Something no one would believe.
Magic.
It’s the only possible explanation. They can’t go public with magical techniques, because the public wouldn’t believe it. They might be labeled as madmen; the church would certainly denounce the use of all washing machines as blasphemous and heretical. The entire washing-machine cartel would fall. The backlash would destroy them all.
And it answers so much!
How come the Maytag man still looks the same after all these years? Magic.
Bleach turns everything white. How can there be such a thing as color-safe bleach? Magic.
You mean to tell me that I can get my clothes from nasty, stiff, and static-y to fluffy, soft, and static-free by doing nothing more than throwing this tiny little drier sheet in there? Ridiculous, it’s got to be magic!
Why are washing machines always circular? Because it’s the perfect alchemical symbol, symbolizing unity and connectedness, lending power to the spells.
Ever wonder why your washing machine starts lurching and shaking, and when you open it up, all the clothes are on one side? Can you say demonic influence? Am I talking to a wall here? Look at the patterns!
Don’t believe me? Why don’t you ask the other player in this sinister scenario. Just follow the money. Who else is making bank of this plot? Who else gets richer while the infinite powers of magic are suppressed?
Big Sock, that’s who.
Every year, your socks are deconstructed, the spare pairs sitting for eternity in a hamper or drawer somewhere, never to be matched again. And who makes money off of this conspiracy? Who is earning bucks every time you are forced to toss your mismatched socks away? Big Sock is. Big Sock churns out socks by the millions and billions every year, fueled by their consumption in your washer (or dryer). Obviously, Big Sock and the washing-machine cartel are in cahoots. They probably use the same magic used to reconstruct your clothes to make your socks. Tell me this, how do they get the heel in a heel sock. It’s just a tube, isn’t it? Isn’t it? Where does the heel come from? You tell me! You tell me! What’s that mark on the side of your sock? A Nike Swoosh, or an alchemical symbol used by your washing machine to indicate socks with the correct magical potential for deconstruction and reassembly. It all comes together in the end.
Every year, man. Every year all your money is going to Big Sock, and you don’t even know. You don’t even know what they know, because they won’t tell you. Because they can’t tell you. Because they’re hiding it all from us. This knowledge could destroy the world if it got out, man. Magic is real, they’re using it on our socks! The washing-machine cartel is in on it. You gotta trust me, man. Just seek the truth, demand the truth. They can’t hide it forever, not if you keep pushing. Don’t let them push back, man, they have power, but we have numbers, we have the truth. Free your socks, man. Free your socks.
I’ve already said too much. They’ll be able to track this using clairvoyance, and there’s no way to hide from that, man. I’m going to have to go underground. Join the resistance. Or if there isn’t any resistance, I’ll have to start a resistance. We gotta let the truth be heard, man.
Free your socks.
-N
* * * *
I was doing my laundry a few days ago when it hit me. This should tell you something about how much brainpower I put into folding clothes and how much brainpower I put into daydreaming.
Now I haven’t been shopping in over a year, now. It was March ’04 I last went out and bought any new clothes, and I have a few that with have been with me since my early years in college. So that should tell you something about the average age of my clothes. They’re old.
But I was struck by something odd as I was doing my laundry. Something strange was tugging at my brain. The linchpin around which, it turns out, everything else in this world may very well turn.
The lint trap.
I have been washing these clothes for years and years and years, and every time I dry them out, I empty the lint trap. It’s not much, but there’s always something there to clean out, always a small handful of random fibers that have detached themselves to my clothes. There’s always something there, every few weeks, for years upon years.
And yet, I still have the same clothes.
Think about it. Think about all the times you’ve ever emptied the lint trap. Think about all the volume that represents. Why, you’d expect to have clothes falling apart with all the fibers that seem to be falling out of them every week. But I’ve been washing my laundry for years, and I still have all the same pieces. Where does all that volume come from? Conservation of mass, it has to come from something, right? But where? It’s all still there, with no holes, no wear and tear, nothing lost…
…Except for my socks.
Think about it! It makes perfect sense. What is the one question that mankind, despite all its scientific prowess and studies, has never been able to answer? Right! What happens to all those odd socks?
Every time you wash your clothes, you get lint. It’s inevitable, can’t be helped. And when your clothes loose that much mass over such a long period of time, there has to be some counterbalance. There has to be something feeding into the system. That something is your socks.
It’s the only thing that makes sense, the only part of the system that seems to have any mass coming in. As your clothes begin to degrade, your washer (or dryer, I’m not sure which) deconstructs a sock and uses the resulting mass to reconstruct the mass lost to lint in the rest of your clothes. So every time you end up with an odd sock, your clothes are getting that much more reconstructed.
And what a perfect source, too! Socks aren’t important. People don’t worry about loosing a thousand-dollar sock in the wash somewhere. They’re made of enough varying material that there’s certainly enough raw molecular diversity to reconstruct all sorts of clothes, and people are always buying new socks. I haven’t gone shopping for big clothes in a while, but sure I buy socks on occasion. Who doesn’t? Plus if you loose one, there’s a good chance you have 6 or 7 of the same type, and so it’s no big loss.
But the next big question is, how?
Well, the obvious first option would be some sort of clever nanotechnology. Millions of tiny, microscopic robots swarm into your washer (or dryer), deconstruct a sock, and use the resulting mass to build up the rest of your clothes. Then they take the rest of the mass they don’t need and store it somewhere in the washer (or dryer) for use later. When they run out of mass, they deconstruct another sock.
But there’s one problem with this theory. If the washing-machine cartels had the ability to make this kind of technology, they’d be able to create all sorts of similarly useful things using the same nanotechnology. The washing-machine cartels would be more powerful than Microsoft. But they’re not. Same with a lot of other, similar technologies. If the washing-machine cartels had the ability to do this, why not simply go public with the technology and make millions?
It’s because they can’t tell us.
So what are we looking at here? We’re looking at some sort of incredibly powerful device, technique, or method that allows for incredibly detailed and complicated textile reconstruction, but it would have to be something that the washing-machine cartel couldn’t go public with. Something they have to keep secret. Something no one would believe.
Magic.
It’s the only possible explanation. They can’t go public with magical techniques, because the public wouldn’t believe it. They might be labeled as madmen; the church would certainly denounce the use of all washing machines as blasphemous and heretical. The entire washing-machine cartel would fall. The backlash would destroy them all.
And it answers so much!
How come the Maytag man still looks the same after all these years? Magic.
Bleach turns everything white. How can there be such a thing as color-safe bleach? Magic.
You mean to tell me that I can get my clothes from nasty, stiff, and static-y to fluffy, soft, and static-free by doing nothing more than throwing this tiny little drier sheet in there? Ridiculous, it’s got to be magic!
Why are washing machines always circular? Because it’s the perfect alchemical symbol, symbolizing unity and connectedness, lending power to the spells.
Ever wonder why your washing machine starts lurching and shaking, and when you open it up, all the clothes are on one side? Can you say demonic influence? Am I talking to a wall here? Look at the patterns!
Don’t believe me? Why don’t you ask the other player in this sinister scenario. Just follow the money. Who else is making bank of this plot? Who else gets richer while the infinite powers of magic are suppressed?
Big Sock, that’s who.
Every year, your socks are deconstructed, the spare pairs sitting for eternity in a hamper or drawer somewhere, never to be matched again. And who makes money off of this conspiracy? Who is earning bucks every time you are forced to toss your mismatched socks away? Big Sock is. Big Sock churns out socks by the millions and billions every year, fueled by their consumption in your washer (or dryer). Obviously, Big Sock and the washing-machine cartel are in cahoots. They probably use the same magic used to reconstruct your clothes to make your socks. Tell me this, how do they get the heel in a heel sock. It’s just a tube, isn’t it? Isn’t it? Where does the heel come from? You tell me! You tell me! What’s that mark on the side of your sock? A Nike Swoosh, or an alchemical symbol used by your washing machine to indicate socks with the correct magical potential for deconstruction and reassembly. It all comes together in the end.
Every year, man. Every year all your money is going to Big Sock, and you don’t even know. You don’t even know what they know, because they won’t tell you. Because they can’t tell you. Because they’re hiding it all from us. This knowledge could destroy the world if it got out, man. Magic is real, they’re using it on our socks! The washing-machine cartel is in on it. You gotta trust me, man. Just seek the truth, demand the truth. They can’t hide it forever, not if you keep pushing. Don’t let them push back, man, they have power, but we have numbers, we have the truth. Free your socks, man. Free your socks.
I’ve already said too much. They’ll be able to track this using clairvoyance, and there’s no way to hide from that, man. I’m going to have to go underground. Join the resistance. Or if there isn’t any resistance, I’ll have to start a resistance. We gotta let the truth be heard, man.
Free your socks.
-N
Oops, missed it by a day, but still cool.
This saturday was 05/07/05. Haiku day. Neat, huh? Here's a bunch I pulled off off fark.com
CAT HAIKU's
--------------------
haiku (h"k) n., pl. haiku also haikus. 1. A Japanese lyric verse form having three unrhymed lines of five, seven, and five syllables, traditionally invoking an aspect of nature or the seasons. 2. A poem written in this form.
--------------------
You never feed me.
Perhaps I'll sleep on your face.
That will show you.
You must scratch me there!
Yes! Above my tail! Behold,
Elevator butt!
I need a new toy.
Tail of black dog keeps good time.
Pounce! Good, dog! Good, dog!
The rule for today:
Touch my tail, I shred your hand.
New rule tomorrow.
In deep sleep hear sound.
Cat throw up hairball somewhere.
Will find in morning!
Grace personified.
I leap into the window.
I meant to do that.
Blur of motion, then --
Silence -- me, a paper bag.
What is so funny?
The mighty hunter
Returns with gifts of plump birds.
Your foot just squashed one.
You're always typing.
Well, let's see you ignore my
Sitting on your hands.
My small cardboard box.
You cannot see me if I
Can hide my head.
Terrible battle!
I fought for hours. Come and see!
What is "term paper"?
Kitty likes plastic.
Confuses for litter box.
Shouldn't leave around.
Small brave carnivores.
Kill pine cones and mosquitoes.
Fear vacuum cleaner.
Want to trim my claws?
Don't even think about it!
My cries will wake dead.
Wanna go outside.
Oh, no! Help! I got outside!
Let me back inside!
Oh, no! Big One
Has been trapped by newspaper!
Cat to the rescue!
Humans are so strange.
Mine lies still in bed, then screams!
My claws aren't that sharp
Cats meow out of angst.
"Thumbs! If only we had thumbs!
We could break so much!"
Litter box not here.
You must have moved it again.
I'll crap in the sink.
The Big Ones snore now.
Every room is dark and cold.
Time for "Cup Hockey"!
I want to be close
To you. Can I fit my head
Inside your armpit?
This one's also for mom, because it's mothers day and because she hates our cat. Happy mothers day, Mom, thanks for putting up with her for the rest of us.
-N
This saturday was 05/07/05. Haiku day. Neat, huh? Here's a bunch I pulled off off fark.com
CAT HAIKU's
--------------------
haiku (h"k) n., pl. haiku also haikus. 1. A Japanese lyric verse form having three unrhymed lines of five, seven, and five syllables, traditionally invoking an aspect of nature or the seasons. 2. A poem written in this form.
--------------------
You never feed me.
Perhaps I'll sleep on your face.
That will show you.
You must scratch me there!
Yes! Above my tail! Behold,
Elevator butt!
I need a new toy.
Tail of black dog keeps good time.
Pounce! Good, dog! Good, dog!
The rule for today:
Touch my tail, I shred your hand.
New rule tomorrow.
In deep sleep hear sound.
Cat throw up hairball somewhere.
Will find in morning!
Grace personified.
I leap into the window.
I meant to do that.
Blur of motion, then --
Silence -- me, a paper bag.
What is so funny?
The mighty hunter
Returns with gifts of plump birds.
Your foot just squashed one.
You're always typing.
Well, let's see you ignore my
Sitting on your hands.
My small cardboard box.
You cannot see me if I
Can hide my head.
Terrible battle!
I fought for hours. Come and see!
What is "term paper"?
Kitty likes plastic.
Confuses for litter box.
Shouldn't leave around.
Small brave carnivores.
Kill pine cones and mosquitoes.
Fear vacuum cleaner.
Want to trim my claws?
Don't even think about it!
My cries will wake dead.
Wanna go outside.
Oh, no! Help! I got outside!
Let me back inside!
Oh, no! Big One
Has been trapped by newspaper!
Cat to the rescue!
Humans are so strange.
Mine lies still in bed, then screams!
My claws aren't that sharp
Cats meow out of angst.
"Thumbs! If only we had thumbs!
We could break so much!"
Litter box not here.
You must have moved it again.
I'll crap in the sink.
The Big Ones snore now.
Every room is dark and cold.
Time for "Cup Hockey"!
I want to be close
To you. Can I fit my head
Inside your armpit?
This one's also for mom, because it's mothers day and because she hates our cat. Happy mothers day, Mom, thanks for putting up with her for the rest of us.
-N
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
So, lessee…
Class is done! One of them at least. But it’s DONE! Not ‘almost done’ or ‘worst part over’. All effort for adaptive signal processing has ceased. Complete stall. Aaaah, it’s nice. The worst part about it, though, is that I haven’t shown the results of my study to my expert, yet. I actually have some ideas about improving the algorithm. If they work, I could do a complete 180, from ‘algorithm not work’ to ‘totally stomped it.’ But I’m too lazy to try it out. Tragic!
I finished my project for my other class, which is good, and so now I just have the final, which is a week away. I have a couple of classes to watch, but I just plan to do some studying, head in, and stomp that puppy.
Volleyball is so much fun! I went again last Friday, which was enormously cool times, especially because I got to practice, and even hit, an overhand serve a few times! Bazam! That’s talent! It even seemed to work more often then that underhand mess they teach you back in grade school. He he.
In the ‘news from other people’ department:
T and J have set their wedding date. Labor day weekend! (My birthday). And where? In Vegas! Weehaw! Personally, I’m all for this. I think I may just have to attend. Good birthday celebration, too.
Talked to Aunt J this weekend, too, which was nice ‘cause she’s just a great person. I’m hoping, sometime this summer, to meet up with my cousins up in Vegas because they, on selected weekends, have been known to head up to a lake that exists up there with a motorboat and various ‘tow human beings behind us’ implements. Should be a good time. Course, if I keep up on the situps, I may be all six-packy, too.
Let’s talk about the 6-pack, just cause I don’t want any misperceptions here. I’m not exercising because I want to look good. That’d just be silly, and it won’t last. I exercise because I want to be good at TKD. That’s why I run, and why I train, and why I throw kicks while I’m waiting for the elevator at work. Getting all crazy-muscly-ripped is a neat idea, but don’t be worrying that I’m going to go all anorexic on ya, because that would be…that’s right…bad for TKD. It’s just a neat goal is all, and let’s not pretend that it’s not really cool. (Ladies, I’m talking to you. Except for ladies that are married or my sisters or otherwise related to me…not talking to you.)
mmm…
Picked up a new game, Jade Empire, this weekend, too. It’s from Bioware, the same people that brought you Baldurs Gate 1 and 2 and Star Wars: Knights of the Old republic. My review: Gets a 10 for storyline and characterization and dramatic interest and all those other things that Bioware does so well, but only about a 7.5 for combat. It’s fun, and neat to play around with, but ultimately a little oversimple.
Also, I’m thinking about picking up Guild Wars. It’s been well-regarded by the gaming community at large, so far, and I’ve been asked by people at work, too, so I’d have some people to play with. Good idea, that.
This Friday…KARAOKE! Ooooh, how I have missed you, my dear. ‘B’, workmate and fellow volleyballer, is having a birthday party, and we’re going out to Karaoke to celebrate! I’m *very* excited by this prospect. I love singing in public. Yes, yes, I know, very, very silly of me, but I didn’t think I’d like it either, when my roommate D first dragged me off, but I had *so much fun* I couldn’t even stand it. I really like Karaoke. Don’t just sell it off. Give it a try. The entire population of Japan can’t be wrong.
Gonna get myself ready for TKD. Peace!
-N
Class is done! One of them at least. But it’s DONE! Not ‘almost done’ or ‘worst part over’. All effort for adaptive signal processing has ceased. Complete stall. Aaaah, it’s nice. The worst part about it, though, is that I haven’t shown the results of my study to my expert, yet. I actually have some ideas about improving the algorithm. If they work, I could do a complete 180, from ‘algorithm not work’ to ‘totally stomped it.’ But I’m too lazy to try it out. Tragic!
I finished my project for my other class, which is good, and so now I just have the final, which is a week away. I have a couple of classes to watch, but I just plan to do some studying, head in, and stomp that puppy.
Volleyball is so much fun! I went again last Friday, which was enormously cool times, especially because I got to practice, and even hit, an overhand serve a few times! Bazam! That’s talent! It even seemed to work more often then that underhand mess they teach you back in grade school. He he.
In the ‘news from other people’ department:
T and J have set their wedding date. Labor day weekend! (My birthday). And where? In Vegas! Weehaw! Personally, I’m all for this. I think I may just have to attend. Good birthday celebration, too.
Talked to Aunt J this weekend, too, which was nice ‘cause she’s just a great person. I’m hoping, sometime this summer, to meet up with my cousins up in Vegas because they, on selected weekends, have been known to head up to a lake that exists up there with a motorboat and various ‘tow human beings behind us’ implements. Should be a good time. Course, if I keep up on the situps, I may be all six-packy, too.
Let’s talk about the 6-pack, just cause I don’t want any misperceptions here. I’m not exercising because I want to look good. That’d just be silly, and it won’t last. I exercise because I want to be good at TKD. That’s why I run, and why I train, and why I throw kicks while I’m waiting for the elevator at work. Getting all crazy-muscly-ripped is a neat idea, but don’t be worrying that I’m going to go all anorexic on ya, because that would be…that’s right…bad for TKD. It’s just a neat goal is all, and let’s not pretend that it’s not really cool. (Ladies, I’m talking to you. Except for ladies that are married or my sisters or otherwise related to me…not talking to you.)
mmm…
Picked up a new game, Jade Empire, this weekend, too. It’s from Bioware, the same people that brought you Baldurs Gate 1 and 2 and Star Wars: Knights of the Old republic. My review: Gets a 10 for storyline and characterization and dramatic interest and all those other things that Bioware does so well, but only about a 7.5 for combat. It’s fun, and neat to play around with, but ultimately a little oversimple.
Also, I’m thinking about picking up Guild Wars. It’s been well-regarded by the gaming community at large, so far, and I’ve been asked by people at work, too, so I’d have some people to play with. Good idea, that.
This Friday…KARAOKE! Ooooh, how I have missed you, my dear. ‘B’, workmate and fellow volleyballer, is having a birthday party, and we’re going out to Karaoke to celebrate! I’m *very* excited by this prospect. I love singing in public. Yes, yes, I know, very, very silly of me, but I didn’t think I’d like it either, when my roommate D first dragged me off, but I had *so much fun* I couldn’t even stand it. I really like Karaoke. Don’t just sell it off. Give it a try. The entire population of Japan can’t be wrong.
Gonna get myself ready for TKD. Peace!
-N
