It's spring. I wouldn't have realized, if it wasn't for having given Christina over to the mechanic guy, and having had to tuk-tuk it to work quite early.
His name is Harrison; the mech. A fatherly, quiet gent who knows engines. The thing with harrison is this. He will only charge you for the problems he fixes; no mucking around and replacing everything in sight. But the catch is that, he insists on top-of-the-line parts to fix the problems. If a customer doesn't like his style , he can go levitate a kiddies toy made of paper. I like the old duffers attitude. Plus, he takes trouble to explain things and you can talk shop, provided you catch him early. Now a problem with a connoisseur like old harris is that he doesn't like to be told his job. And the problem with me is that i don't like to give things over to get fixed without having a reasonable idea of what i need fixed.
So, i tell the fellow, quite clearly, that there are two oil leaks. And i go onto explain what i suspect; I want the crank oil seal, the filter and sump oil seal checked out. The fellow patiently takes everything down. He calls in an hour and says its the filter. Good, that was what i suspected. He fixes that and takes apart the timing belt assembly to check the crank seal and happily notifies me that its a-ok and that there are no further leaks. But i know better - I know that the sump seal is funny. I explain why i think so, giving reasons and so on. No. The guy is adamant. No leak. I bug the guy about 4 times during the day giving further justification. No. No leak. Car is fine, he says.
So I go pick her up. The bill is, well, hefty. And its been put down mostly as labour charges for various things i wanted checked out. The next time i must just say oil leak, please fix it, and leave it at that <sigh> I could have saved 3k that way. And to top it off, i find that there is still a leak! a very small one, but a leak, dammit. right under the sump! Bugger harrison! I told the guy! Just wait till tomorrow! I like Christina without leaks, thank you. There are several lessons in this somewhere. <sigh>
Anyways, it's spring. Flowers. Birds. The early morning mist and chill. It's to die for. I figure that a lot of my ills stem from the fact that i start my day so damn late. I usually end up at work ten-ish. That's when i get up 8:45-ish. Such a waste. And my optimal thinking time used to be 4-ish, 5-ish.
On another related note, it occurs to me that i need a manager. Or several. An entertainment manager for music and films and a manager for my dabblings, at the very least. The positions are open. I can promise, no-pay, good food and excellent conversation - none. Takers?
Have i mentioned that i like classifications? Over simplifications, they be. But better an oversimplified starting point than a tangled mess that needs to be unraveled.
Today's exercise is in attempting to classify those who are loosely known as techies, or tekkis. Not to be confused with trekkies, who undoubtedly intersect the aforementioned set, but are nevertheless kewl by themselves. For reasons strongly associated with migraines and neck aches, I will exclude what is loosely known as the fine arts and professions. What the heck; I'm restricting myself to keyboard thumpers. Our boundaries of pure confusion having been demarcated, let us boldly proceed..
Dabbler: One who engages in an activity superficially or without serious intent. Sometimes referred to as the Babbler. This is the kind of creature who has installed several OSs on his personal laptop at one time or the other but is resigned to running windowsXP cause he doesn't have the smarts and for the life of him cannot figure out why all the cool tekkies are so ga-ga over all those 'other' OSs. Does a reasonably good job in pretending to go all starry-eyed at the mention of a *nix distribution. Has dipped his finger in everything. Tasted Nothing. But, to his credit he can do a basic installation and fire off a few shell commands. Even though he's a bit of a fraud, his company is desired over a person who just talks about girlfriends, boyfriends, clothes, shopping and having kids and the finer points of diaper changing. His heart is in the right place.
Handyman: Commonly known as the Jack of all trades. Knows how to handle himself in a variety of technical areas. Content with indiana jones type of problem solving and does not have a deep desire to master anything. Takes pride in being practical and being able to easily come up with quick fix solutions. Is not uncomfortable in an area of which he has no strong understanding. The handyman's horizons are small and hence the goals he sets himself are usually attainable. He thrives on this success. Known to go into orgasm-like whoops on accomplishing the most trivial task. Adorable creatures.
Connoisseur: A person with expert knowledge or training. Master of a few chosen areas. Contributor to at least one open source project. Leaves the Dabblers intimidated and the handymen in awe. Is an assiduous churner of eventually elegant code. But mastery limited to quite temporal areas. i.e. The java language as opposed to language design. Is fiercely achievement driven. Quiet. Humble. When not among friends, that is.
Theoretician: One who formulates, studies, or is expert in the theory of a science.... Architectures, Frameworks, Paradigms, and concepts are his playthings. His hope is to gain immortality in the technology he spawns. Pedantic. Reads and studies obscure works. Mastery is important;but the mastery of a whole field. Scorns temporal knowledge. Has the ability to be a code churner but such mundane tasks are considered ennui. A dreamer. A contradiction. Possibly the happiest and the saddest of the lot. The most content in his lofty seat, and the most dejected by virtue of his keen perception. The most stable in mind and yet the most restless at heart. In short, an arrogant pain in the nether regions.
Fancy yourself as a monogamous person? Is fidelity important to you? Well, you just might be a freak! Yes, that's correct. I said freak! A beastly, ghastly, unnatural freak!
At least thats what David P. Barash & Judith Eve Lipton, seem to say in The Myth of Monogamy: Fidelity and Infidelity in Animals and People. They maintain that "there is no evidence, either from biology, primatology, or anthropology, that monogamy is somehow "natural" or "normal" for human beings. There is by contrast, abundant evidence that people have long been prone to have multiple sexual partners." . Go read the synopsis now.
Oh, did you notice that the co-authors are husband and wife? There is a kill joy of a review in there as well. Don't let that spoil things for you, though.
And, it appears that out of the 4000 mammal species only a handful such as bats, foxes, voles and marmosets are monogamous. Do you want to be associated with bats, foxes, voles and marmosets? Well, do you? And the animal kingdom, oh boy; cheating dunnocks, promiscuos macaque monkeys, unfaithful black-capped chickadees. Go on, read the article now.
Now, if you find yourself appealing to morality and wot not, well as everything is these days, it's probably in our genes, folks.
what if, EPC is the natural order? What if one day this is established fact? What if that day is tomorrow?
Let me take you by the hand, walk you through the streets of ...
Take a two hour bus-ride in any direction from the Pettah bus stand, and the country changes, noticably. The people change. Take the trouble to understand, no, (that's too strong a word) observe, and its plain that these people have very different lives. Their daily routines, needs and aspirations are far removed from the artificial sri lankanism of Colombo.
Nothing new. All of us know this simple truth. But yet, most of us, who live in this fake sms, internet, 20k+ monthly income, pub, cheap chinese food joint, coffee joint sri lanka deem ourselves worthy to wax eloquent on whats good for these people. To get away from our artificial hussle-bussle, to de-stress ourselves or just out of sheer boredom we see fit to theorise on problems that we have not an iota of understanding on, with all the seriousness of putting these plans into action if only we had the power to do so. Thank god, i say, that we don't have the power!
I really wonder what the world thinks of our country. Colombo and Colombo sentiments, official and unofficial, constitute the most poorly designed presentation layer of any system I have come across, and the systems i've come across are pretty darn bad.
I am not a Sri Lankan! I have seen, really seen, very little of it, though I've been to most parts of the country. I have no knowledge of what an average Sri Lankan is. I do not know what is good for them. I will not pontificate!
Toothpaste is not a panacea. Never believe that. Never! DVDs, maybe. Pimples, possibly. Stys, or abscesses on your eye-lid; NO. It was ofcourse the toothpaste as a purported pimple cure that did it; there should be a law against people posting things like that.
Yes, I have a sty on my eye; or something like that. So at about 1 a.m yesterday it occurs to me to try toothpaste on it. Fluorine; acidic properties. oxidiser. Yes, it might help. So i squeeze out a sizable portion, so as to cover the whole thing, and dab it on. <pause> PAIN! excrutiating pain! I'm used to stinging substances in the eye, mind you; Sidhalepa, Axe oil and such. But this beat the lot. And do you know how difficult it is to wash off toothpaste? from your eye? well, do you? it took 10 minutes!
The whole eye-area looks a ghastly puffed-up red. Borderline obsessive-compulsive that i am, i reason out that its because i got stuff 'in' the eye that mucked up the works. So this time, I get myself just enough toothpaste to just dab on the sty.
<sigh>
pain. howl. wash out eye. in short, repeat performance.
It seems that the eyelids work in such a way as to get stuff on the rim of the lid, inside your eye. A design flaw, no doubt.
So i go to bed sans-toothpaste-on-sty. I get up next morning to see it bleeding. Absolutely pouring.
I blame it on the eye-surgeons who weren't available the previous day. I blame the medical profession which doesn't allow you to call a doctor up and get medication over the phone. I blame it on the toothpaste. I blame it on the river hobbit! No, i do NOT blame it on my stupidity!
And if anyone finds this funny, i hope that they get toothpaste in their eye!
Why is it that i did not know about BigInteger? I think my brain was stolen and replaced by a faulty unit. gah! I feel like dissolving the decrepit slimy thing and extracting it through my nose.
The prime-blunders of last week have shattered me. gah!
I've always believed that if an educator has nothing new; nothing of his own, to talk about in a lecture, he should pack up.
teenybopper: the newbie stage. naively uses real name for blog. ignorantly settles on a grotesque blogger template. horrendously illiterate posts; mostly whiney.
enlightened nipper: the awareness stage. discovery of real blogs. fiddles around with templates and widgets. mopes. usually ends with a panic attack culminating in blog renaming/funky nick.
determined soldier:prolific.inane. blurfs and clogs in the manner of a rabid rabbit.
sudden death: reasons vary. blogicide involved.
born-again-blogger: the first resurrection. usually accompanied by a template change. many template changes and tweaks follow.
eldar- immortality. Tempted to leave Bloginor and take the journey across the sea; Templates achieve perfection.
And, every lifecycle has it's deviants as well as those whose lives are so cruelly cut short.
Continuing our boob-awareness program, something is definitely wrong in the state of Etats-Uni when you get a young college woman saying 'You mean women’s breasts are like a cow’s udder?'. This article tries to pin the cause for boob-fetishes on the declining breast feeding trend. It's a very confusing article, promoting the view that the primary purpose of boobs is to feed and comfort babies, while going on to project a baby's feelings, on being deprived of those magical milk making machines, as "Hey, don't take those away from me! Those soft sponges belong to me! You can't do that! Hey, nobody here cares about my feelings. Please please Mommy....." - Is it just me, or is that one perverted kid? Like I said, it's a very contradictory article. It even manages to mention 'breasts' and 'God' in the same sentence. Can you, come up with one? go on, i dare you! Damn them americans! What are they trying to say?
Nevertheless, their conclusion 'It all starts when you take the breast away from the child AND then make seeing breasts a forbidden no-no for the rest of the child's growing period. End result is a distorted view of female breasts', has something in it. Damn americans, i say again. Having said that, I'm all for the cure they suggest.
Are we a bit ambivalent now. What if some misguided entity told you, that boobs are not an inherently sexual organ, that nipples are not by nature a special erogenous body part? Well they(err.. you might want to be careful, here) seem to be telling exactly that. They go on to promote the brain as the greatest sexual organ we have. Boy, Einstein must have been one helluva perv! Then again....
Now folks, just scroll down that last article....
We live in our own mythical little worlds with our mythical little ideas on boobs, array sizes, and such; we protect our mythical worlds with magical little spells that go to the tune of 'my myth is better any day, than your reality'. And it probably is. But what if our realities are infact imposed on us by the world at large? I mean, which reality is more valid? the boob-fetish-reality or the baby-pacifier-booby-reality. How can we decide? Both view points have been barfed upon us by the world at large and the good old internet.
This is where Naked Saturdays come in handy. Or even silly little experiments in primes and arrays. Life needs to be experienced; experience is after all what you go through in life, not a record left behind by some poor blighter.
To heck with the shackles of morality. And what we're taught; to the trash bin, i say! Life is meant to be lived, dammit!
But, on the morality front, where do we draw the line, if everything needs to be experienced? Bribery, larceny, drug abuse, alcoholism, murder, rape, child abuse?
If you open Pandora's box, be ready for the difficult questions.....
Well, I can't give you the answers to those. What i can tell you is, that all the boobs(careful...) in the world are capable of sinking 40 titanics, and that it is possible to enlarge breasts through hypnosis.
2.62, 6.85, 17.94, make cyclic appearances. credit:sage
can't do a whole lot more with c++ data types, gets buggered in the 47th Fibonacci(long data type issue) and 10,000 oddth prime(static array limit issue). These can be overcome, ofcourse. To continue or not....
<ponders> update: with my current 500GB machine, i can only go upto i=37(20 so far) for series 1 and i=27(13 so far) for series 2. unless i get a list...
The maximum array size allowed by a language is dependent on the compiler. Everyone knows that. Everyone is told that. And it is true. But have you tried it out? Why should you try it out? Well here are the results of a few hours of blundering around...
Compiler
Max Array Size Allowed by Compiler
Turbo C++ 3.0
64KB
Java Compiler
231-1 elements
C#(and other.Net Compilers)
264-1 elements
Visual c++
~2GB
Note that all these are static array declarations. Java restricts the maximum subscript value to the upperlimit of the primitive datatype int and C# to the upperlimit of the primitive ulong. VC & TC compilers restrict the array size not by a maximum subscript value, but by a maximum size reached by the structure. Although the VC++ compiler allows for the compilation of a structure as big as 2GB, during runtime a block of code can contain only 1MB worth of variable declarations(I'm not sure about this). Also notice that I've said approx. 2GB; while the other compilers allow the sizes mentioned to the dot, VC does not achieve the 2GB limit exactly.
There are those things that nag you for no particular reason. You can either ignore em or go ahead and open pandoras box. But be ready for the difficult questions that follow. I have quite a few of em. why those limits? And whats with VC arrays? without using dynamic allocation, can you really use the 2GB of allocation allowed by the compiler? Educate me! i feel like an ignoramus.
updated text in bold. my face is red.
pp: not really sure about all other .Net compilers; only the ones coming with VS.
And here's the second installment of the Guest Post series by our prolific smithy.
The Gumzter demanded a post on BPU, which apparently stands for "boob processing unit". Either this is part of a boob-awareness programme that nobody told me about (see Me And The Devil Blues for more on boobs and monkeys) or, as Gumz himself suggested, perhaps "dirty minds think alike".
"Boob processing unit" is of course a neologism. It is clearly derived by way of analogy with CPU, which begs the question; is it a boob unit that processes or a unit that processes boobs? A (boob (processing unit)) or a ((boob processing) unit)? The latter, I imagine, is quite easy to understand; the BPU would be a sub-unit of the complex informational lattice we facetiously call our "minds". I think it's unlikely to be located in a specific area of the brain; more likely to be represented in software than hardware. The BPU, in other words, is the program that runs when you ogle -and here I include women who check out other women, for whatever reason, and therefore am using "ogle" in a not-necessarily-sexual sense. See, compare, match against your own fine-tuned preferences in gravitational resistance, aerodynamic curvature, aesthetic preference, past sexual history, and just generally run through the index of preconceived notions, misinformation, fetishes, neuroses, psychoses and outright delusions that constitute your glorious and unique-beautiful-snowflake of being. Quite straightforward, really.
But wait, I hear you cry, have you not thought of the other possibility? No, I have not forgotten. Shed no tears. The other possibility, darker and more dangerous; not the unit that processes boobs, but the boob unit that processes. Are we talking about a sentient breast that ogles you back? Which is creepy. I once saw a vaguely soft-porn flick called Killer Tongue; a radioactive meteorite transforms some random woman into a latex-wearing porn star with a giant, sentient tongue. The tongue can stretch out to be many metres long, and it talks, has sex with people (including its owner) and, yes, eventually kills people. It's not as if I need to draw you a picture here. Oh, and her four poodles turn into drag queens. Damn those meteorites! Damn them! What if a meteorite turned some hapless woman's boob into a BPU, a coldly calculating Spock-like boob, or "Spoob"? It would watch and wait, in all likelihood unknown to the host, gathering data, processing, analysing. And it would be haunted by the constant presence of its silent twin, its human half. Ah, the tragedy. Would it be driven to action someday, or would it drive itself quietly insane? Could this already have happened to you and yours? Boob-bearers be warned! Think of your loved ones! The fate of humanity may rest upon your shoulders!
Well, on your chest. But that's just a technicality.
Beware, ladies. It's eight-fifty, do you know where your tits are?
Forge Smith ยท 20:58
You have been reading a Special Guest Edition of Six O'Clock. All Rights Ridiculed.
After 1 year and 2 months, I visited my hairdresser. Yes, I go to a hairdresser and not a barber; yes, shockingly yuppie of me, I know, i know... Is a hair dresser, a yuppie barber?
The dude still remembers me; surprising. The dude expressed his righteous indignation when i mentioned, quite proudly, that I didn't even trim it once since the last time i saw him, a year back. You'd think that the guy would be pleased that i didn't let anyone else touch his handy-work. I guess he takes his work seriously; that some fellow would treat his hair so atrociously is probably a crime deserving the death penalty in his book. Chagrin. So, to get back on his good side, I mentioned that I shampoo daily. I gathered that it wasn't the right move; the guy looked decidedly ill. Apparently, it dries your hair and you should use conditioner and only shampoo about thrice a week, yadayadayada.. I muttered something about occasionally using my significant others conditioner. He wasn't impressed.
I think it was a mutual decision, not to talk about my hair-care habits. He took one inch off and blow dried it(no puns on blow jobs, please). It's the first time I've gotten that done - it took forever. It's quite straight now, and is a wee bit too effeminate for my liking, so i can't wear it loose. But he sorted out my side-burns, thank god.
It took about 1.5 hours for the whole thingajig. And 1.5 hours of chit-chat on topics that don't interest me and just idly lying around answering questions on exactly how i want my hair done, would normally have pissed me off. The surprise was, that i didn't get impatient. Apparently, I've learned the art of enjoying an hour or so at a hairdressers. They gave me tea. Eye candy could have been better though.
Look at me go on... I'm astounded that I'm actually blogging this. Jesus! What's wrong with me?
Apparently I'm to use olive oil on it once a week, and come in for a trim every month or so...
Don't you just love primes. The feeling you get by working with primes is only rivaled by running naked in the rain, or orgasm, of course. This post sent my mind on this path. Amazing isn't it. Ofcourse the acid test is in seeing if it holds for higher primes.
On another front, aren't definitions everything. I must define stuff to be at peace. Without definitions there can be no differentiation. Without differentiation, no understanding. After my definitions on dating, it was on my mind to do a similar number on cute, pretty, beautiful and sexy; but i just can't be bothered right now.
No, I do not intend to go around naked. Got the idea from Coupling. The goody-two-shoes that i am, or was, or due to a memory which has been censored, I cannot remember ever having tried to imagine a person naked. Well on Saturdays, everybody will be!
update After being ridiculed as hopelessly retrograde and having been given very minute instructions on best practices to be followed, both by persons junior to myself,here i was, all gung-ho!
Reality kicks in. Lessons are learnt:It's a bad, bad idea to picture everyone naked. It's tougher than i was told; there are timing issues - you can't follow people about till you complete the picture, clothing issues - some clothes require more processing time; there are significant gaps between theory and practice. And to top it off, I'm beset by ethical dilemmas. I'm on the verge of scrapping it when i read this. Yes folks, its loki to the rescue. Naked Saturday Lives!
update Naked Saturday has been cancelled due to the author loosing his reason. There are certain (little) people who should be blamed for this. I will ofcourse ogle.
i realise that you consider reading this drivel an act of pure charity, and hence unworthy of any consideration toward the author. An admirable sentiment. Most of you, after coming here, would no doubt, heap the deepest darkest voodoo on the misguided referrer who sent your poor unsuspecting self to this veritable verbal cess-pit. So you probably leave thinking that you alone have been hard done by.
WRONG!!!!
I note with regret, nay, revulsion, that MOST of you use MSIE <shudder>. Everytime you(not all of ye) come here, you defile my statistics by bestowing yet another tick against the vile little creature. what's the fricking idea? Haven't your parents taught you not to litter. If you insist on coming here, i beg you, go get this.
You may vilify me, torture me, throw sticks, stones or dead frogs at me - i don't care. Just, Don't bugger my statistics!
While there may be wrong answers, there is no such thing as a wrong question. Nevertheless, it is still possible to ask a question for the wrong reasons; a sin far graver than an incorrect answer. An equal share of blame must be placed on the head of those that pave the path for such questions to be asked. I would advocate a punishment no less than being hung, drawn, quartered and the shattered body of such persons being sent to the four or more corners or pointy places of the country, whichever is applicable.
What vile question prompted this diatribe? Is VB(of all the languages, i ask you) a 5th generation language or 4th generation language?. On the face of it a reasonable question? Why, though? Why do you want to know? What possible understanding will you gain from the answer? Will the statement X is a Y generation language really tell you anything about the language itself? Will it tell you anything about what it evolved from? Did 5th generation languages descend from 4th generation languages? How did they reproduce, i wonder?
We sometimes give labels(the generations) to categorise our knowledge. These categories are usually artificial, a concoctation of lesser minds than the ones of those who invented the pearls being categorised. And sometimes, categories formulated eons ago somehow survive into the future in outdated academic texts and minds corrupting the very fabric of knowledge. The categories are unimportant; what matters is the content of the categories.
As a student, one should choose the categories under which you clasify items carefully. Choose those categories which are logical, concrete and useful. And ask real questions.
The real questions one should be asking are, How do languages differ? what were the reasons for the creation of a language? what problems did they solve? Did this language evolve from some other language? What are the new features? why are they there? Are the new features useful? Are those features still useful today? Are the older languages that we talk of still in use 'under the hood'? Can we map features of one language to features of another langauge? the list goes on.... Just be curious! That's the most valid reason for asking a question.
When illusions don't work, one has to resort to the insanely ludicrous.
If you insist on not achieving much for prolonged periods of time, or have no particular aspiration to live upto, make sure you watch plenty of films, pig out on the best gastronomic delights you can get your paws on and have mind blowing sex.
That might work. Maybe. </whine>
I might actually have something interesting to blog now. Maybe.
