Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Pandora: Not Just Crappy Radio
I've been thinking about this unit since I saw it this morning; theoretically it will allow emulation of any videogame system and open-source homebrew of limitless types, will run Firefox 3 over a Bluetooth connection to your phone with data plan, and generally provide a PC in your pocket, in a basically DS-size case.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Liberty City Diaries--Day 12
My name is Niko Bellic. I moved to Librty City twelve days ago....In this city everyone works for money, and so i have spent my time here working...doing the work i have experience in, which includes fighting in close urban environments, driving a variety of quickly obtained vehicles and providing a variety of support services for various ad-hoc groups, small business operations who wish to avoid entanglements, and other people like myself...outcasts, immigrants, and yes, criminals.
in any case, this is not a work i always enjoy doing--it's grisly stuff, but when men are shooting at me, and they are standing in the way of my objective, i do what needs doing, and i reach the objective and i take the cash.
i must confess, though, that in all my years of work i have attained the pleasure of doing my job well. when i am in the heat of fire, there is nothing like setting your sights on your opponent and then popping him in the head once, ending him.
today i was told to kill a man who operates out of a high-rise housing project in east harlem. he is distributing drugs in the community, running prostitutes, you name it. i don't care. he is the target. the highrise is filled with young men with guns, all shooting at me; i search them out, one by one, and execute them all. Finally, as i creep up the stairs, i see him with his back turned to me, and i fire four or five rounds into his back, almost taking him down. I could have, if i had aimed carefully. In any case, i climbed up the last set of stairs after him. he hid behind a wall until i came close and then he came out,unarmed. he asked me not to kill him. fuck you, i thought, i almost died back there. i took aim at him, but i listened to him plea. i heard him tell me he would change, reform, i don't remember at all. something about a GED.
i stood there and i moved my gunsights to his forehead. fuck you, i thought, for making me come all the way up here. and i thought, here comes the pink mist, and then realized i had no desire to do this.
i sorta wanted to see if he would get his GED. but i also felt that i wouldn't see him again. it didn't matter. i had made the pink mist enough times back home--never mind that, i was still making it every day--but i had the choice not to shoot this guy, this dumbass prick. and also, in the words of Bunny Colvin (Brucie has downloaded all five seasons of the wire) "fuck the bosses." let's see what happens to the little guy.
as i walked away, i wasn't proud of myself, but i thought that at least i wouldn't have that memory to deal with. i have enough on my plate already. to start with, i am on the roof of an East Harlem housing project with cops closing in on me....
in any case, this is not a work i always enjoy doing--it's grisly stuff, but when men are shooting at me, and they are standing in the way of my objective, i do what needs doing, and i reach the objective and i take the cash.
i must confess, though, that in all my years of work i have attained the pleasure of doing my job well. when i am in the heat of fire, there is nothing like setting your sights on your opponent and then popping him in the head once, ending him.
today i was told to kill a man who operates out of a high-rise housing project in east harlem. he is distributing drugs in the community, running prostitutes, you name it. i don't care. he is the target. the highrise is filled with young men with guns, all shooting at me; i search them out, one by one, and execute them all. Finally, as i creep up the stairs, i see him with his back turned to me, and i fire four or five rounds into his back, almost taking him down. I could have, if i had aimed carefully. In any case, i climbed up the last set of stairs after him. he hid behind a wall until i came close and then he came out,unarmed. he asked me not to kill him. fuck you, i thought, i almost died back there. i took aim at him, but i listened to him plea. i heard him tell me he would change, reform, i don't remember at all. something about a GED.
i stood there and i moved my gunsights to his forehead. fuck you, i thought, for making me come all the way up here. and i thought, here comes the pink mist, and then realized i had no desire to do this.
i sorta wanted to see if he would get his GED. but i also felt that i wouldn't see him again. it didn't matter. i had made the pink mist enough times back home--never mind that, i was still making it every day--but i had the choice not to shoot this guy, this dumbass prick. and also, in the words of Bunny Colvin (Brucie has downloaded all five seasons of the wire) "fuck the bosses." let's see what happens to the little guy.
as i walked away, i wasn't proud of myself, but i thought that at least i wouldn't have that memory to deal with. i have enough on my plate already. to start with, i am on the roof of an East Harlem housing project with cops closing in on me....
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
a major insight i just had is that writing yourself an email may be way more important than writing to some other dude. Writing to yourself is thought, it's imagination, the first pieces of language. maybe writing to yourself comes first and allows you to see what you need to write to others. in any case you have not even gotten to the good part. you should continue writing at very fast speeds until something actually intelligent comes out of it. probably also should learn how to really type too. let's start now. youve tried to learn to type before. one thing that stopped you was a desire to stop trying to tell all ten fingers what to do. and even now, you've improved your speed not by moving the hunt and peck any faster, its; just keeping your fingers centered and not allowing the board to make your hands move around. instead just instantly move to the kys you already kknow are there. and another ting thats hard to stop doing is going back and backspacing everything eleting everything youve done. dont worry about deleting now, you should lay your beuush in broad strokes. and even then, learn to re-think your editing style if you want. cut and paste. you dont have to delete if you want to just cut and paste down the page. whatever overcomes your blocks, but you are old enough by now to overcome them, there's no reason to be afraid anymore because any day could be last. i was so lclose to typeing ":your life could be half over" but the fact is these could be your last moments. makes your mind curcle just thinking about it. but there it is : fear of death.
the best creations can be as mistake. like the word "curcle." yes my mind is doing that, circling and curdling and curling in on itself. that;s called being a reality architect. it's all about the little dirifit off thrift off pieces of your frantic sbriccling. that's what people will adore the most, you may see. in any case, the only thing you can do, is do it. the definition of bloggingL you bring it to the page.
the best creations can be as mistake. like the word "curcle." yes my mind is doing that, circling and curdling and curling in on itself. that;s called being a reality architect. it's all about the little dirifit off thrift off pieces of your frantic sbriccling. that's what people will adore the most, you may see. in any case, the only thing you can do, is do it. the definition of bloggingL you bring it to the page.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Happiness is a Hangover
The company christmas party was last night. Suffice it to say that the events of that night, the names of the people involved, the performances we allegedly witnessed, and the location where we may have held it are all deep-cover classified, Code Level Tangerine. However, let me assure both of my readers that I can probably divulge this information in person, as long as you submit to thirteen hours of debriefing in a closed decompression chamber while trained operatives remove the relevant areas of your brain stem with a grapefruit spoon.
In any case, the anguish within my soul, the harrowing search for Advil at 4 am, the cottonmouth, these are all well-documented, the lingering traces of a vaguely-remembered good time that was allegedly had by all.
In other news, the threatened strike of subway workers resulting in the complete shutdown of metropolitan NY has been postponed. If you have been following this issue in your local newspapers (who am I kidding), you will know that originally, the strike was scheduled to start at midnight last night, forcing 10 million New Yorkers to find alternate ways to get to work. Instead, there has been a temporary ceasefire, and union authorities now say they will slowly shut down all service beginning tonight and lock down all train lines until Tuesday. According to Alicia, this is "sneaky but brilliant," shutting down the entire city on the last big shopping weekend before Christmas. According to me, the fucking MTA can die, die, die.
In the meantime, please enjoy these complimentary links.
The Zen of Iraq - fafblog! Zen! mock bush!
musicmap - I haven't fully explored the possibilities here, but I like what I'm seeing. Like six degrees of separation in the music world with a killer interface.
Cute Overload - just what it says.
In any case, the anguish within my soul, the harrowing search for Advil at 4 am, the cottonmouth, these are all well-documented, the lingering traces of a vaguely-remembered good time that was allegedly had by all.
In other news, the threatened strike of subway workers resulting in the complete shutdown of metropolitan NY has been postponed. If you have been following this issue in your local newspapers (who am I kidding), you will know that originally, the strike was scheduled to start at midnight last night, forcing 10 million New Yorkers to find alternate ways to get to work. Instead, there has been a temporary ceasefire, and union authorities now say they will slowly shut down all service beginning tonight and lock down all train lines until Tuesday. According to Alicia, this is "sneaky but brilliant," shutting down the entire city on the last big shopping weekend before Christmas. According to me, the fucking MTA can die, die, die.
In the meantime, please enjoy these complimentary links.
The Zen of Iraq - fafblog! Zen! mock bush!
musicmap - I haven't fully explored the possibilities here, but I like what I'm seeing. Like six degrees of separation in the music world with a killer interface.
Cute Overload - just what it says.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
just a quick thought before bed
record labels have an interesting way of pitching their DRM schemes: they act as though what they're doing is natural, that protection of music through copyright is a service to the universe. in reality, it is the record labels that are usurpers in this environment, because music was always shared, through all cultures. the boundary between musician and fan was less mediated by agents and PR and merch. these things--representation--cropped up with the same frequency as lawyers, accountants, and other pencil-pushers. shelved in neat Modern architecture, they pursued a regimen of ownership. but their dominance was always only partial; bootleg recorders, mixtape artists, and legions of fans proved them wrong. Endlessly strumming "Stairway to Heaven," they weren't "Stealing" the music, any more than the Grinch could actually steal Christmas. and for the same reason, the labels can't ruin it for us today; collaboration and innovation is stronger than their lawyering and book-learning. sharing is actually the future happening now. interesting thoughts on this subject here (click the link "Eight Ideas that will revolutionize the century.")
it;s my city
Just look at the titles of these books. I would like to own the whole set, but that would probably require a lifetime of Indiana-Jones-like achievements--if not George-Soros-like ones. Good thing they're available to check out at the NY Research Library. Now I just have to apply for a special research library card.
- by Charles Bucke (1781-1846):
- Ruins of ancient cities: With general and particular accounts of their rise, fall, and present condition
- On the life, writings, and genius of Akenside: With some account of his friends
- On the beauties, harmonies, and sublimities of nature: With occasional remarks on the laws, customs, manners, and opinions of various nations : in four volumes
- The Italians;: Or the fatal accusation; a tragedy. With a preface; containing the correspondence of the author with the committee of Drury Land Theatre, P. Moore, and Mr. Kean
- Amusements in retirement, or, The influence of science, literature, and the liberal arts, on the manners and happiness of private life
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
I was thinking about this last night: the number one need in the virtual marketplace at this point is a fail-safe method of identity protection and verification. A company that can provide the user with an electronic ID verification system, failsafe and redundant, will control the marketplace, much as PayPal does, through providing an intuitive and reliable system.
Surprisingly, the federal government seems to agree with me: they have required that banks develop "two-factor" security systems by Q4 2006. The system banks use now is one-factor: to access your account, simply enter your self-created password or PIN. Two-factor requires independent verification through a redundant system. The most reliable ideas are biometrics and constantly refreshing passwords like those provided by a VPN SecureID. Of the two, I think biometrics should eventually become the verification of choice, but obviously we're a ways out from seeing that happen--technology like fingerprint readers or retina scanners would have to become standard equipment on any computer used to access a bank account. Nevertheless I suppose even this method could be hacked.
Surprisingly, the federal government seems to agree with me: they have required that banks develop "two-factor" security systems by Q4 2006. The system banks use now is one-factor: to access your account, simply enter your self-created password or PIN. Two-factor requires independent verification through a redundant system. The most reliable ideas are biometrics and constantly refreshing passwords like those provided by a VPN SecureID. Of the two, I think biometrics should eventually become the verification of choice, but obviously we're a ways out from seeing that happen--technology like fingerprint readers or retina scanners would have to become standard equipment on any computer used to access a bank account. Nevertheless I suppose even this method could be hacked.
Monday, October 17, 2005
Selections from the New Yorker this week
the recombinant city. noncoded DNA, reservoirs of language tissue, left turned on or off like lightswitches in corridors of genes.
a game plan. a unifed vision of the future as represented by liberal ideals. a 'contract with america' of sorts.
a deprivatory chamber, hypoxico, which creates walking-in-the-clouds syndrome, the feeling of light-headedness usually reserved for the lofty.
Peter Viereck, the founder of modern conservatism (piece not available online), a man who felt that its strength lay in being almost identical to American liberalism.
unexpressed desires, the secret code lay within, unexpectedly laid bare: it was there all along. the hidden potential of reality to recreate itself. the motions of growth, a leaf from a tree, ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny.
Monday, October 03, 2005
it's difficult to concentrate on one project sometimes
So...just ignore anything you may see before this entry. It's all over two years old at this point. You can look at my Livejournal if you want to see anything I've written since then. Until now. Up to a few months ago, LJ was my home, but since then I've ventured outside that enclave, seen a lot of new stuff like real RSS and Atom and Ajax and APIs. Stuff I never thought about before. Now I try to read Slashdot and kottke and I furrow my brow and I look like a big sweetie. I don't really know what's being discussed a lot of the time--I'm a stranger in a strange land. But I find that it's really not enough just to be into books and fantasy and film and adventure. There are plenty of other factors to take into consideration, like true love and friends and science, discernment, sexual experiementation, bifurcation and more. Part of that is my experience with psychedelics, and the city, and life. But more importantly, this growth is a part of me, innate characteristics expressed, a few lines of the program designed to innovate, explore, and discover something new and unexpected, a vibrant juxtaposition, a creature of joy and actual transcendence. So part of that is this transformation into the Other, a digital transformation. To Be Continued.Wednesday, August 06, 2003
Wednesday, July 16, 2003
Update: The Cost Of War in Iraq
A grenade attack killed a U.S. soldier in Iraq Wednesday, bringing the total combat deaths to 147, equaling the total in the 1991 Gulf War.
The Pentagon said military expenses for the war and its aftermath have cost the United States $48 billion to date, with a monthly price tag over the next couple of months estimated at more than $3.9 billion.
The Big Board
July 15, 2003
Casualties: 147
Cost: $48,000,000,000
Goals Accomplished
Saddam Hussein's Status: Unknown
WMD Locations: Unknown
Iraqi Independence: Unknown
Estimated Time of American Departure: Fucking Unknown
Sunday, July 13, 2003
Tuesday, June 10, 2003
Friday, June 06, 2003
Thursday, June 05, 2003
Ocean's Bounty is Gone
one of the saddest things i've ever read. am i an alarmist? people who say i am an extremist can go jump in a cesspool. that's what the human race has created. 6 billion people and what has the human race become? bipedal swine. endless ravagers of all things good and plentiful. wastrels who cloak themselves in hypocrisy.
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