Pie-hole » Internet

David Foster Wallace

Steneub — Thu, 15 Jul 2010 14:15:01 +0000

Who the hell is this guy? This might help (wikipedia). Don’t worry, I’ll wait until you get up to speed.

I had never heard of him until today when I read an entry over at geekinheels. The author there posted a quick little article about how she found a neat little web app that analyzes a sample of text and tells you what famous author you most write like. When she did it with her blog entries, it spat out Stephen King most often. This is what I got more than 50% of the time:

I write like
David Foster Wallace

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

I got a smattering of others, but apparently this David Foster Wallace character was quite influential. I feel like reading his stuff, but it might be kind of like masturbation at this point. Like discovering you’re actually a clone, finding your seed person, and making out with them or something.

Wait, what?

Homer Simpson Clone A: I love you Homer.
Homer Simpson Clone B: No, I love you, Homer.

New Interweb Link – Lifehacker

Steneub — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 13:00:52 +0000

I stumbled on Lifehacker from a slashdot reference. It’s pretty neat as it has all sorts of geeky techy stuff for doing stuff the Steve^TM way, but this time it’s in an article so I can point to it and say, “see!? Other people do things like this too!”

Ame will still roll her eyes, but there’s validation in it, you see!

There’s now a handy dandy link to it on the sidebar too. How awesome is that?

What now?

Steneub — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 18:16:28 +0000

What is this crap? The CSS broke. I don’t know if it’s only here at work with IE6 and it’s idiosyncrasies, or it’s actually broken… Nothing changed on the codebase that I know of, so this is curious.

I’ll have to investigate, so in the mean time, my apologies for a crappy looking site.

UPDATE:
Apart from the complete lack of updates, there was nothing wrong with my site even though I spotted it both in broken and unbroken states. I fixed and changed nothing and the only variable I can think of is the Google Ads I have placed here. Usually Google is cool. What happened, man? You flaked out for a bit there.

Jason’s got a blog

Steneub — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 13:00:04 +0000

I’ve made a convert out of Jason. Ever since he learned of my own public journal here, he devoured just about every post I’ve got, commented on a few, and felt hungry for more blog. I pointed him over to wordpress.com, and now he’s got his own corner on the Internet.

Jason’s a co-worker here and we regularly chat about this and that, many times worth discussing with the wide world. So go check it out, already! It’s also over on the list of links on the side for your consumption later.

To Twit or not to Twit

Steneub — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 13:00:56 +0000

Twitter is dumb.

Twitter is for writing in 140 characters, and is meant as a blog replacement. It has since found itself as a blog replacement. This isn’t all bad, but I think I’ve finally found a use for it myself.

It’s a place where I can:

Comment on what others have twat
Tell everyone (including brick walls) what I’m doing
Hair-brained napkin-outlines for future blog posts

I think that last one is more useful to me personally than anything else I can conjure up. Granted, I’ve only been twittering for a short time now, but if ever I’m stumped for what to write about, I can just dive into my twit queue and see how I should elaborate on what I’ve twat.

It shall be a public white-board for all to see and none to edit. It will be like a blog post preview if you’re a follower.

There are a couple things in the queue right now that are brief due to the 140 character limit, not because that’s all there is to say, so hopefully this will work out.

I’m a twit

Steneub — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 13:00:30 +0000

Every now and again, changes occur around here. Most notably, I’ve changed the order of the sidebar and added another widget: Twitter.

Yes, yes, I’ve finally joined in the crapfest that is Twitter. I think it’s more than a little stupid, but so many people are on it including those I know personally.

Back in November, I spoke with Bobby about this

Bobby: oh, do you twitter?
Steneub: no no… no faggoty micro-blogs. That’s what YOU’re for, so I can just dump whatever I’m thinking on YOU rather than the rest of the world
Steneub: and I also already have a big-boy blog
Bobby: haha
Bobby: you mean old like the dinosaur blog
Bobby: twitter is the new hotness
Steneub: you’re just jealous ’cause you can’t afford a REAL webpage

See! I hated it before I succumbed, I swear! It was true though about me dumping on Bobby whatever popped into my head. I would simply message him the biggest non-sequiturs and the best paet is he would roll with it most of the time.

Now I have all of you to dump on! Muahaha!

Quake Live is Live

Steneub — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 13:00:28 +0000

I know this is old news, but whatever. I’ve been looking forward to this going live for months, and I’m very happy that it’s up and running. It’s still technically beta, but the core is there, and that’s what matters to me.

If you don’t know what it is, it’s Quake III Arena plus a lot of extra tweaks (namely, a game that’s actually finished) and it runs directly in your web browser. Best of all, it’s free, and funded by in-game advertising while you frag. I think the model works, and I’m glad to see it being seriously attempted by id software.

See if you can find me, or better yet: add me as a friend.

Hello [carpal tunnel], my old friend,
Ive come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.

They’re Made of Meat

Steneub — Mon, 02 Mar 2009 13:00:57 +0000

The Internet’s got some stuff on it, and I’m republishing, here, and without permission, Terry Bisson’s short little essay on intelligent life I originally saw a link from slashdot. I thought it was poignant, so I’m sharing it with you. It’s not super long, so please check it out.

“They’re made out of meat.”

“Meat?”

“Meat. They’re made out of meat.”

“Meat?”

“There’s no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, and probed them all the way through. They’re completely meat.”

“That’s impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars?”

“They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don’t come from them. The signals come from machines.”

“So who made the machines? That’s who we want to contact.”

“They made the machines. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Meat made the machines.”

“That’s ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You’re asking me to believe in sentient meat.”

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in that sector and they’re made out of meat.”

“Maybe they’re like the orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage.”

“Nope. They’re born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn’t take long. Do you have any idea what’s the life span of meat?”

“Spare me. Okay, maybe they’re only part meat. You know, like the weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside.”

“Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads, like the weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They’re meat all the way through.”

“No brain?”

“Oh, there’s a brain all right. It’s just that the brain is made out of meat! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“So … what does the thinking?”

“You’re not understanding, are you? You’re refusing to deal with what I’m telling you. The brain does the thinking. The meat.”

“Thinking meat! You’re asking me to believe in thinking meat!”

“Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal! Are you beginning to get the picture or do I have to start all over?”

“Omigod. You’re serious then. They’re made out of meat.”

“Thank you. Finally. Yes. They are indeed made out of meat. And they’ve been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years.”

“Omigod. So what does this meat have in mind?”

“First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the Universe, contact other sentiences, swap ideas and information. The usual.”

“We’re supposed to talk to meat.”

“That’s the idea. That’s the message they’re sending out by radio. ‘Hello. Anyone out there. Anybody home.’ That sort of thing.”

“They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?”
“Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat.”

“I thought you just told me they used radio.”

“They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat.”

“Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?”

“Officially or unofficially?”

“Both.”

“Officially, we are required to contact, welcome and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in this quadrant of the Universe, without prejudice, fear or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing.”

“I was hoping you would say that.”

“It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?”

“I agree one hundred percent. What’s there to say? ‘Hello, meat. How’s it going?’ But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?”

“Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat containers, but they can’t live on them. And being meat, they can only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact.”

“So we just pretend there’s no one home in the Universe.”

“That’s it.”

“Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you probed? You’re sure they won’t remember?”

“They’ll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we’re just a dream to them.”

“A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat’s dream.”

“And we marked the entire sector unoccupied.”

“Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?”

“Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again.”

“They always come around.”

“And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the Universe would be if one were all alone …”

If you have ask, then you shouldn’t know

Steneub — Mon, 29 Sep 2008 13:15:38 +0000

God, I hated that phrase growing up. Of course, now I realize they very likely didn’t know in the first place, they were just being assholes. This recollection was sparked by Comcast recently disclosing their network policies. With many ISPs, there are rules for how to use their services. If you break those rules, then you are at risk for disconnection. That’s simple, right? But you’re not allowed to ask what the rules are! How can you possibly play by the rules if you don’t know them? On the one hand, I understand the ISPs don’t want to disclose that information because they don’t want their users to step right up to the line that the Terms of Service outlines. If every user did that, their networks would crumble. Like airlines, they oversold their network. But on the other hand, I (we/you/your neighbor) paid for services and should know what is paid for and use it how can be used.

Away from ISPs, the worst case I can remember of non-disclosure of rules was a card game. A group of us, I think at Kyle Naziaxier’s place, wanted to play some cards. We couldn’t agree on a game to play, and the asshole of the group was pushing for poker. We didn’t have any chips or anything to bet with, so it was a stupid idea to begin with. We still couldn’t agree, so the asshole said, “Alright, let’s play ****** (I don’t remember the name of the game).” Frustrated, we gave in; it was an idea no one had suggested yet, and I’d never heard of it. “How do you play?” I asked. “You’ll figure it out,” he replied and started dealing.

After some inexplicble game-events, never in my favor of course, I started getting mad. But I realized, don’t get mad, get even! This game didn’t have any rules. All of them were made up on the spot, that was the only rule. It was like Calvinball. When my turn came around, I made a play that made no sense to make in my favor – not too much though, just enough for a little bump and I certainly wasn’t in the lead. They all looked at me like I had lobsters crawling out of my ears. Enter asshole: “That’s… not in the rules,” took the card I played and gave it back to me. I was done with this nonsense, “Fuck this, you’re a prick. How am I supposed to play the game if you won’t tell me the rules? I’m out,” threw my cards down and stormed off.

Recalling this though, I realize soemthing even more unsettling. There really were no rules to the card game, but the objective was not to “win.” The objective was to make me mad enough to leave the table so they could play poker.

Assholes.

Agreed-upon Reality

Steneub — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 20:15:20 +0000

I’m sure this has been touched on before, by others, more often, and longer-winded, but dammit, I have to play ball too!

Wikipedia is a wonderful place. It’s a great starting point, just like any encyclopedia, for knowledge. If what you find is intriguing, look at the original research and learn more yourself – just like any other print encyclopedia. This isn’t a rant about whether Wikipedia is a legitimate source. It’s flat out not simply because it’s practically the same as an encyclopedia which is also not a legitimate source.

I didn’t say it wasn’t a rant though!

Agreed-upon reality. Wikipedia users submit their thoughts and ideas about the way the world works. There are rules to conform to like weasel words and original research, of course, and anything submitted can be edited by anyone else. The noble goal is a consensus is reached with the best data possible or available and everyone becomes more or most knowledgeable in the process. An article is never complete, but as it approaches completeness, it follows that the number of new edits decrease. Put pessimistically, fewer and fewer people disagree on the reality presented in the article. Completely subjective.

What is reality though? The not-so-simple answer is it is our perception of the world. Following this rabbit hole means that our own personal reality is subjective as too! We even don’t perceive the world “as it happens” either. We are limited by the speed of light. Even things happening on the inside of our brains aren’t instantaneous; there is a lag there as well. Perception of events is inherently behind the times.

Wikipedia helps us codify our collective perception of reality. Sort of like a zeitgeistionary (woah, meta!). Wikipedia, because it is so convenient, is becoming a more common point of reference. Within this reference, it somewhat replaces someone’s own reality with Wikipedia, lowering the number of unique realities. With the number of unique realities approaching one, that makes the world very small.

I feel as though I’m on the cusp of some epiphany here, but it’s just out of my reach at this point; Like I can’t quite wrap my head around the next step. Of note is I mentioned The Zeitgeist, the collective unconscious, the “time spirit.” If it’s written down, it ceases to exist! The power of the zeitgeist is in that it is not documented, it just… is. But for now, I’ll have to ponder on this, and I’d love to hear some feedback on this.

The continuum transfunctioner is a very mysterious and powerful device and its mystery is exceeded only by its power.