TTTTT - In a Rancher-Farmer dispute, fence-mending has taken precedence over bridge burning. At this watershed moment, a sea change has been observed that historians will likely marginalize unless strongly contradicted.
To verbally circumnavigate the problem, one MUST understand the Seven Bridges of Konigsberg. Mathematicians can tell you the most about problems like this, but diplomats are most likely to be left holding the bag.
Bridges: Bridges are water transit mechanisms. Notably Caesar's Rhine Bridges set precedent. Other notable examples are The Bridge over the River Kwai, and the infamous Bridge to Nowhere.
Bridges: Bridges are people. The best among them are from Madison County, TX. In a notation that Bridges are also water transit mechanisms, Bridges have been found throughout history in Civil Engineering pursuits, but also in the Army Corps of Engineers. The Corps of Engineers has been responsible for its share of corpses, but mostly they are a constructive lot, with Bridges statistically normally distributed among them.
Bridges: Bridges are games. Although there is usually thought to be one authoritative game of Bridge, there is no single authoritative language of Bridges, therefore the Japanese game qualifies as well. All Texan Bridges will acknowledge English at all times.
Bridges: Bridges are musical.
a) Bridges are found in Guitars and Violins and are mission critical to the construction of the relevant instrument.
b) Bridges are a part of a musical score like a riff. Notable musical Bridges are the ones over troubled waters, individual examples of which are cited by Paul Simon in the famous tune.
Bridges: Bridges are authoritative. On ships, whether at sea or in space, the position of command occupied by the Captain is traditionally known as 'The Bridge.' There is more than one ship in the Universe.
Bridges: Bridges are places. Traditionally to be found at "the Gap," Bridges are locations, both literally and figuratively. Examples include:
- Networking Bridges in interpersonal relations,
- Bridge loans - loans to get from one loan to another loan, especially in wartime construction projects,
- Bridge Programs - an unfortunate linguistic anomaly denying the very plurality of bridges in a programmatic way, these programs are both computer based and institution based,
- Bridge moves - wrestling and exercise moves that put the word bridge into movement, suggestive of dance, but not seductive.
Bridges: Bridges are scientific. Science uses bridge chemicals (as in transistors if nothing else,) dental bridges, Bridge Cameras, Protocol bridges and Network bridges - implying a graph theory connection.
The statement of the problem can only be called complete in the semi-mystical {NP} way that only data miners and politicians claim to understand. All apologies to the Bridges of Madison County, specifying continental assignments of 5t Bridges will exceed the scope of the current blog. Specifying extra-domestic responsibilities of relevant Bridges will exceed even that scope.
Adieu.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Indications indicate discovery occurs;
TTTTT - Bulletin - It has come to the attention of the relevant fertilizer manufacturer that there is a Sea Urchin 'out there' that uses its only available symbiosis for the nitration of its environment. This Urchin, technically known as an 'Anemone' was first observed evolving in the same network of Oceans and Seas as Julia Roberts used to swim in as a small girl. Happily for the Roberts' name, this has been documented by a lesser known member of the family, living in British exile. While working for the traditional pittance as a PhD researcher with other Scots, these intrepid researchers began to practice their breathing exercises in an environment with real live Darwinian consequences, just like Jacques Cousteau, technically understood by the phrase 'Extreme Chi.' These English found and lionized the "Roberts' Anemone," in the process. Like aboriginal Australian tribesmen, the Roberts Anemone community is content to be represented by a few camera friendly representatives, and continue evolving privately otherwise.
As a tip of the hat to Julia Roberts' pride of place, Dr. Roberts will occasionally consent to be called on the phone.
The "Roberts' Anemone," instead of using the normal symbiosis of small fish, that cannot be killed with it's poison, or birds, that clean Crocodile teeth and Rhino hides, has creatively chosen what is known as 'Endosymbiosis,' a situation in which the symbiant organism is harbored safe within the host's body like a parasite or Joey.
Although this does not immediately affect the fertilizer industry as a whole, notoriety for Sea Urchins (as a group,) should improve the chances of Space Research (specifically 'Inner Space' or the body of work resulting from aquanautics,) bringing tangential benefits to farmers the whole world over. Since most Sea Anemones qualify as indicator species, like frogs and plants on land, Roberts' Anemone LLC. will be applying for minority representation in the UN.
The Anemone group did not stop evolving at the waters' edge, but has also been known in the flora of the temperate latitudes. Strangely, while the Anemone is not prejudiced on land, neither flower nor sea urchin can be found in Antarctica - this is outside Anemone range. The best historical documentation of Anemones is that of the Greek Biologist Ovid, best known for his "Metamorphoses Book 'X,'" apparently a predecessor of the more famous Kafka. Kafka's preoccupation with cockroaches did not impede scientific observation of more elegant examples like Butterflies, and metamorphosis' position in the lore of evolution is permanently established.
Reviewing: Sea Anemone's commonly exhibit symbioses. Anemone's on land are flowers, and are found pretty much wherever non-tropical flowers grow. Anemones, whether flowers or Sea Urchins do not metamorph. Julia Roberts is a card carrying thespian, and pays SAG dues. Dr. Roberts is a PhD. Frank Kafka wrote a book. Evolution is a preoccupation of Biologists. Scuba diving is an extreme sport. Tai Chi includes breathing exercises.
Please do not attempt to mix irrigation with Salt water water-sports. Participate freely in the "Discoveries Occur" v "Discovery Occurs" controversy - lawyers will be interested.
As a tip of the hat to Julia Roberts' pride of place, Dr. Roberts will occasionally consent to be called on the phone.
The "Roberts' Anemone," instead of using the normal symbiosis of small fish, that cannot be killed with it's poison, or birds, that clean Crocodile teeth and Rhino hides, has creatively chosen what is known as 'Endosymbiosis,' a situation in which the symbiant organism is harbored safe within the host's body like a parasite or Joey.
Although this does not immediately affect the fertilizer industry as a whole, notoriety for Sea Urchins (as a group,) should improve the chances of Space Research (specifically 'Inner Space' or the body of work resulting from aquanautics,) bringing tangential benefits to farmers the whole world over. Since most Sea Anemones qualify as indicator species, like frogs and plants on land, Roberts' Anemone LLC. will be applying for minority representation in the UN.
The Anemone group did not stop evolving at the waters' edge, but has also been known in the flora of the temperate latitudes. Strangely, while the Anemone is not prejudiced on land, neither flower nor sea urchin can be found in Antarctica - this is outside Anemone range. The best historical documentation of Anemones is that of the Greek Biologist Ovid, best known for his "Metamorphoses Book 'X,'" apparently a predecessor of the more famous Kafka. Kafka's preoccupation with cockroaches did not impede scientific observation of more elegant examples like Butterflies, and metamorphosis' position in the lore of evolution is permanently established.
Reviewing: Sea Anemone's commonly exhibit symbioses. Anemone's on land are flowers, and are found pretty much wherever non-tropical flowers grow. Anemones, whether flowers or Sea Urchins do not metamorph. Julia Roberts is a card carrying thespian, and pays SAG dues. Dr. Roberts is a PhD. Frank Kafka wrote a book. Evolution is a preoccupation of Biologists. Scuba diving is an extreme sport. Tai Chi includes breathing exercises.
Please do not attempt to mix irrigation with Salt water water-sports. Participate freely in the "Discoveries Occur" v "Discovery Occurs" controversy - lawyers will be interested.
A 5t Inconvenient Truth;
Dawn found Ursula banging at the door, yelling for Sam to come and help her carry in belongings. He rubbed the sleep from bleary eyes, and stumbled out into the steep driveway to assist her in her efforts. His robe was secured by a properly tied belt, but his choice of her bunny slippers for footwear met with limited approval. "Sam! keep my bunnies CLEAN," she adjured him. "They'll give people the wrong _impression_." She had not restricted her returning belongings to her backpack and cooking utensils; she had updated his VDU and DVD player! Sam was not at first aware of the contents of the bulky and mysterious box 3:5:9 or so - it merely looked like a cardboard imitation of Arthur C Clarke's construct for interplanetary travel. In response to his comment, Ursula had only replied "It IS a new window on the world!" cryptically. Sam contented himself with the observation that WHATEVER the content, it was less than 70 lbs, and his back wold not be permanently affected. From pieced together conversation, Ursula had spent her spare time at Uncle George's entertaining an educational bent - she had researched EVERYTHING you needed to know about the newfangled HDTVs! Sam's initial observation was that the relevant VDU appeared to be an LCD, not a DLP. Ursula spoke slowly and with deliberation. "Sam, I KNOW you want the biggest TV on the block. The LCD is a small intimate display unit for the bedroom, not for showing off to your friends. DLPs are beautiful, and huge to boot, but you haven't decided against a theater yet - can you imagine being stuck with a projection screen when you could have had a projector hanging from the ceiling? It'd be bright enough you'd have no excuse to darken the arena (darkness gives people headaches if the pupils are asked to compensate between widely different contrasts,) and it'd NEVER wear out: The burnt out bulbs are easily replaced, and even if the internal mirror thing-a-ma-jig wears out, the bulb would probably still be good right then - at that point you'd be better off with a PLASMA; you could just leave it on one picture until you had a burn-in on the screen!" Sam used her pause for a breath to interject, "But plasma PIONEERED big TV," he implored. "They are worth keeping just for hack value!" Ursula was dismissive, "I don't care how _innovative_ they were, they are no longer appropriate to any use other than research." she stated firmly, "Get used to it!"
Sam had committed his heart to Ursula completely; this was partially on the basis that she was prefect and that she would never change. Apparent departures from earlier norms disturbed him, and he contemplated these in a troubled way as he unboxed the various bits and pieces. For her part, as she ferried odds and ends in from the truck, Ursula could hardly wait to embark upon the virgin voyage of discovery that was the reinvention of her Sam. He was a fine clean slate, but she had AMBITIONS for him!
Her babble of explanation kept loneliness away, but as the mists of sleep cleared away, Sam was wondering if solitude had not exchanged its identity for a counterfeit. The barn owl seemed unperturbed, as were the prairie dogs, but Sam was no longer in perfect unison with their carefree nature.
He gathered that she had seen an authoritative documentary on HDTV assembly by Walt Disney, as a preview to a movie. The hero, Goofy, had apparently modeled efficiency with purchase of cabling, digital antenna, digital converter box, sound amplifying receiver, three video sending units (one for HDD, one for Blu-Ray, and one for ordinary DVDs) and completed the installation in the short half of an early afternoon.
She continued informatively that current sound amplifying receivers were available to improve on information available at time of publication. Now it was the case that an "Up-Converter," was available that would make an ordinary DVD display either a high quality 780 dot pitch signal called 780 p(rogressive scan) or even a low quality 1080 dot pitch signal called 1080 i(nterlaced.) The LCD monitor seemed to lack the feature of a tuner, and she would not even call it a TV. Apparently the digital converter took care of the tuning, and the monitor only had to choose between VCR, HDMI, cable or Air(wave) input. Sam, had a fairly refined old stereo, updated soon after surround sound came out to support 5 speakers - he had never hooked up the center channel speaker, but this gave his system character and identity, not defect. He was afraid that she was going to send him off on missions of new expenditure for the Clementine exchequer, but she blithely explained that her own DVD player (purchased on sale back at X-mas) had its own built in up-converter. HD format had failed to prosper due to an ill-advised dalliance with pornography, and Blu-Ray was an excellent way to experiment with multi-layer computer backups, but not necessary for anything less than 1080p pictures. Meanwhile the cameras for this discipline seemed to be in short supply. Sam was very worried that his cable box would only send one signal, and prepared to gloat as he returned the TV for exchange with one that had a tuner. Ursula bypassed this expected norm by using the HDMI hookup from his cable box to the Monitor, and leaving the venerated coaxial cable lying in disuse in a corner. Other hopes that her plans would need his assistance were dashed on the rocks of a second HDMI hookup on the monitor for the mysteriously 'suped-up' DVD player. As the cables disappeared behind the entertainment center, and the pile of empty baggies and boxes grew, he resigned himself to the truth - if she was to need his help at all, it would be in the form of the very updated audio-visual receiver that he at first had hoped she would not send him out to buy. She appeared to have even invested in a cabling package that united various lengths of pre-labeled cords and wires, each with wonderfully designed endings - simple modifications were the only thing necessary to speaker wires.
As an olive branch to his damaged pride, she offered this suggestion. "Travis is bound to want to compete. Can you imagine him trying to put anything NEAR this complicated together without the advantage of Goofy's documentary?" she asked. "I bet you give him headaches forever - don't put it together FOR him, just buy him a gift certificate for an installation and then sit back with a Foster's each, and watch. The installers will leave, and he won't even have a clue how to turn it on without help." This appealed to Sam's sense of humor, and he wondered how to explain to his beloved, the woman he wanted to impress more than the President of the United States, that he was not too sure of exactly how this was to be accomplished in the bedroom here at home. Her virtues as a manipulator extended beyond all expectation as she unpacked a so-called "learning remote." This device hooked up to a computer with an internet connection and seemed capable of learning all audio-visual devices TI could produce, with promises of all future devices updated while computers shall last. "What do you suppose would be a password we'll never forget Sam?" she asked with an artful attention to detail that he could no more discern here than she his abilities in the cat skinning department. Sam thought for a minute. "Melbourne" was no good, "Happy" was in the past, "Valentine" was no better, and "Sex" was too short. "IF the password IS _Ursula_ we won't be able to CALL it _Ursula_," he reasoned aloud. "What about _Fosters_?" She positively beamed at him. "Super," she smiled. "Fosters it is!" After an hour of incantations, she presented him with his new delight.
As Sam pointed his new found light-saber at the entertainment center, he was awed at its versatility. Every device turned on and off in an orchestrated symphony of harmony. After Ursula kindly pointed out that the on-off function was only one button of many, they fell to experimentation. As they reached landmarks of accomplishment such as first DVD, first on-air broadcast and first dark-screen radio program they reached an arbitrary agreement - Travis would be informed of the possible availability of learning remotes, but he would pay for his own - that is the ONLY way he could POSSIBLY be expected to appreciate the value of one.
Over a late afternoon pizza, Sam and Ursula were already planning for company. "Let's put the jig-saw in the garage, the belt sander and the band saw in the bedroom, the sewing table in the dining room, and the new toys in the living room. Then we can invite Li Nippon and family over for football games and such," Ursula cooed. "Does it display 1080p for sure?" Sam verified, "I wouldn't want Mr. Li to be disappointed." "I am sure it does, but football may only broadcast 780i," she consoled him... "the moving pictures transmit and repaint the screen faster that way." "Well, what DOES display in 1080p?" Sam asked. Their eyes met - the setup was still in the bedroom and the local video store definitively made back-room Blu-Ray available. "If you get a Blu-Ray player to play porno's, I'm getting the biggest vibrator there is in town - and this is TEXAS!" Ursula's six-gun stare was meritorious at worst. "I might as well compete with 'The Galloping Pinto's' mechanical BULL!" Sam lamented. "I HAVE my PRIDE Samuel Clementine the Third!" she bellowed. "If you ever want the lights on in the bedroom again, shut up!" "I can hardly tell the difference between 780i and 1080i anyhow," Sam capitulated. "Travis can HAVE 1080p for all I care." There truly _was_ "more ways to skin a cat than puttin' it's head in a boot-jack, and pullin' on its tail!"
The evening news was coming on and they settled down to evaluate the wardrobe department of the Sweetwater ABC affiliate. You can't stop progress.
Sam had committed his heart to Ursula completely; this was partially on the basis that she was prefect and that she would never change. Apparent departures from earlier norms disturbed him, and he contemplated these in a troubled way as he unboxed the various bits and pieces. For her part, as she ferried odds and ends in from the truck, Ursula could hardly wait to embark upon the virgin voyage of discovery that was the reinvention of her Sam. He was a fine clean slate, but she had AMBITIONS for him!
Her babble of explanation kept loneliness away, but as the mists of sleep cleared away, Sam was wondering if solitude had not exchanged its identity for a counterfeit. The barn owl seemed unperturbed, as were the prairie dogs, but Sam was no longer in perfect unison with their carefree nature.
He gathered that she had seen an authoritative documentary on HDTV assembly by Walt Disney, as a preview to a movie. The hero, Goofy, had apparently modeled efficiency with purchase of cabling, digital antenna, digital converter box, sound amplifying receiver, three video sending units (one for HDD, one for Blu-Ray, and one for ordinary DVDs) and completed the installation in the short half of an early afternoon.
She continued informatively that current sound amplifying receivers were available to improve on information available at time of publication. Now it was the case that an "Up-Converter," was available that would make an ordinary DVD display either a high quality 780 dot pitch signal called 780 p(rogressive scan) or even a low quality 1080 dot pitch signal called 1080 i(nterlaced.) The LCD monitor seemed to lack the feature of a tuner, and she would not even call it a TV. Apparently the digital converter took care of the tuning, and the monitor only had to choose between VCR, HDMI, cable or Air(wave) input. Sam, had a fairly refined old stereo, updated soon after surround sound came out to support 5 speakers - he had never hooked up the center channel speaker, but this gave his system character and identity, not defect. He was afraid that she was going to send him off on missions of new expenditure for the Clementine exchequer, but she blithely explained that her own DVD player (purchased on sale back at X-mas) had its own built in up-converter. HD format had failed to prosper due to an ill-advised dalliance with pornography, and Blu-Ray was an excellent way to experiment with multi-layer computer backups, but not necessary for anything less than 1080p pictures. Meanwhile the cameras for this discipline seemed to be in short supply. Sam was very worried that his cable box would only send one signal, and prepared to gloat as he returned the TV for exchange with one that had a tuner. Ursula bypassed this expected norm by using the HDMI hookup from his cable box to the Monitor, and leaving the venerated coaxial cable lying in disuse in a corner. Other hopes that her plans would need his assistance were dashed on the rocks of a second HDMI hookup on the monitor for the mysteriously 'suped-up' DVD player. As the cables disappeared behind the entertainment center, and the pile of empty baggies and boxes grew, he resigned himself to the truth - if she was to need his help at all, it would be in the form of the very updated audio-visual receiver that he at first had hoped she would not send him out to buy. She appeared to have even invested in a cabling package that united various lengths of pre-labeled cords and wires, each with wonderfully designed endings - simple modifications were the only thing necessary to speaker wires.
As an olive branch to his damaged pride, she offered this suggestion. "Travis is bound to want to compete. Can you imagine him trying to put anything NEAR this complicated together without the advantage of Goofy's documentary?" she asked. "I bet you give him headaches forever - don't put it together FOR him, just buy him a gift certificate for an installation and then sit back with a Foster's each, and watch. The installers will leave, and he won't even have a clue how to turn it on without help." This appealed to Sam's sense of humor, and he wondered how to explain to his beloved, the woman he wanted to impress more than the President of the United States, that he was not too sure of exactly how this was to be accomplished in the bedroom here at home. Her virtues as a manipulator extended beyond all expectation as she unpacked a so-called "learning remote." This device hooked up to a computer with an internet connection and seemed capable of learning all audio-visual devices TI could produce, with promises of all future devices updated while computers shall last. "What do you suppose would be a password we'll never forget Sam?" she asked with an artful attention to detail that he could no more discern here than she his abilities in the cat skinning department. Sam thought for a minute. "Melbourne" was no good, "Happy" was in the past, "Valentine" was no better, and "Sex" was too short. "IF the password IS _Ursula_ we won't be able to CALL it _Ursula_," he reasoned aloud. "What about _Fosters_?" She positively beamed at him. "Super," she smiled. "Fosters it is!" After an hour of incantations, she presented him with his new delight.
As Sam pointed his new found light-saber at the entertainment center, he was awed at its versatility. Every device turned on and off in an orchestrated symphony of harmony. After Ursula kindly pointed out that the on-off function was only one button of many, they fell to experimentation. As they reached landmarks of accomplishment such as first DVD, first on-air broadcast and first dark-screen radio program they reached an arbitrary agreement - Travis would be informed of the possible availability of learning remotes, but he would pay for his own - that is the ONLY way he could POSSIBLY be expected to appreciate the value of one.
Over a late afternoon pizza, Sam and Ursula were already planning for company. "Let's put the jig-saw in the garage, the belt sander and the band saw in the bedroom, the sewing table in the dining room, and the new toys in the living room. Then we can invite Li Nippon and family over for football games and such," Ursula cooed. "Does it display 1080p for sure?" Sam verified, "I wouldn't want Mr. Li to be disappointed." "I am sure it does, but football may only broadcast 780i," she consoled him... "the moving pictures transmit and repaint the screen faster that way." "Well, what DOES display in 1080p?" Sam asked. Their eyes met - the setup was still in the bedroom and the local video store definitively made back-room Blu-Ray available. "If you get a Blu-Ray player to play porno's, I'm getting the biggest vibrator there is in town - and this is TEXAS!" Ursula's six-gun stare was meritorious at worst. "I might as well compete with 'The Galloping Pinto's' mechanical BULL!" Sam lamented. "I HAVE my PRIDE Samuel Clementine the Third!" she bellowed. "If you ever want the lights on in the bedroom again, shut up!" "I can hardly tell the difference between 780i and 1080i anyhow," Sam capitulated. "Travis can HAVE 1080p for all I care." There truly _was_ "more ways to skin a cat than puttin' it's head in a boot-jack, and pullin' on its tail!"
The evening news was coming on and they settled down to evaluate the wardrobe department of the Sweetwater ABC affiliate. You can't stop progress.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
5t 1984;
Sam turned off the recorder, then the TV monitor. His was a CRT VDU, not an LCD VDU, and he didn't even want a plasma. He had investigated DLP's and found that the bulb was very replaceable, but E-Bay seemed oblivious to the intimate nature of his living quarters. He already had a band saw, a belt sander, a sewing table and a jig saw set in the living room, and a 52 inch TV was better suited to the dining area. He had futuristically based his home theater system on a multimedia PC, and in true futuristic fashion was just now paying off the bill. He threw the magnetic microfiche in the nearly decade old bin beside the door, near the hat rack and umbrella stand. He was low on tapes, and made a mental note to order more from OZ.
This peculiar hobby had started in the eighties. In the spring of 1985, he had read George Orwell's retrospective of the previous year. This had led to a severe falling out with Travis, right in the middle of County Tax Assessing season. They agreed that something had to be done,but differed vociferously,if non-violently, as to how this should be addressed. Travis argued that he should record himself doing everything he _DID_, whereas Sam argued that he should record everything he _SAW_. His private warehouse in "The Fortress of Solitude," just East of 'Six Flags Over San Antonio,' was filled with neatly stacked rubber band bound bundles of Polaroids, from early on in the experiment.
Needless to say, he had been forward to contact Travis as soon as terabyte Hard disk drives (HDDs) were available, to warn him to buy cheap 320GB drives and use lots of them... a terabyte of data was a jaw-cracker to back up, and if it all went at once, you could lose a whole summer's Six Flags' visits. You can easily back up a 320GB HDD on a spindle of 100 4GB DVDs. They don't last for ever, but if you don't scratch them, librarians will regard you with respect. Proper labeling was his bugbear. He seemed to EITHER be able to date a spindle chronologically, OR arrange labels alphabetically; whatever he did, he could scientifically show that the one he was looking for was in the Very LAST place he thought to look; Travis had told him that to stop this from happening, he should go on looking for a while, and quit at some other place, but the elegance of this theorem had translated badly into language.
Not only did Travis find things before he quit looking, he employed ALL the latest redundant array software, and did incremental backups every day at two AM. Sam had once tried to show Travis that there was literally NOTHING that can go wrong with a computer that CANNOT BE FIXED with a 9 lb sledgehammer, but Travis had spent six weeks in the hospital for interposing his foot. To fairly attribute his abilities of debate, Travis had been able, over the weeks of convalescence, to convince Sam that the restore process was time intensive if one were looking for a specific file - Travis had asked Sam to restore his Diary for the week preceding his accident. Having finished his experiment with the sledge, Sam had found that redundant disks can be temperamental, and the resulting set-up was still finishing its restore process at 4:30 AM the day that Travis came back home, six weeks later. Travis had faithfully believed everything they told him about a twister in town that sucked the whole window frame right out of the wall, and left a pile of rubble in the lawn. Nevertheless, Sam regarded Travis as a suspect source for computer advice, and preferred sledge hammers more than ever.
For his own part, Sam had used tape travel mechanisms to keep his magnetic media moving while he restored batch style if needed. His little dolly truck would move a box at a time easily. In order to borrow the dolly, Travis had made him a gift of 1000 80GB HDDs and now Sam simply changed them out once a month using eSata. To return the kindness, Sam was saving for a ticket to Jupiter, for Travis' computer setup, whenever he got ready to update.
Whatever the case, Sam had made Travis pinky swear that if either one of them were ever arrested, they would drop everything, and transport the relevant computer system to the relevant Jurisdiction, replete with electronic copy of 1984. In this way, the innocent party could show that he had NEVER painted Mrs. Kirkpatrick's Porch Yellow.
The bulk of backup media and supporting documentation was becoming quite impressive, and Sam got out his old Polaroid just for old time's sake and took another picture. He yawned and went to bed.
This peculiar hobby had started in the eighties. In the spring of 1985, he had read George Orwell's retrospective of the previous year. This had led to a severe falling out with Travis, right in the middle of County Tax Assessing season. They agreed that something had to be done,but differed vociferously,if non-violently, as to how this should be addressed. Travis argued that he should record himself doing everything he _DID_, whereas Sam argued that he should record everything he _SAW_. His private warehouse in "The Fortress of Solitude," just East of 'Six Flags Over San Antonio,' was filled with neatly stacked rubber band bound bundles of Polaroids, from early on in the experiment.
Needless to say, he had been forward to contact Travis as soon as terabyte Hard disk drives (HDDs) were available, to warn him to buy cheap 320GB drives and use lots of them... a terabyte of data was a jaw-cracker to back up, and if it all went at once, you could lose a whole summer's Six Flags' visits. You can easily back up a 320GB HDD on a spindle of 100 4GB DVDs. They don't last for ever, but if you don't scratch them, librarians will regard you with respect. Proper labeling was his bugbear. He seemed to EITHER be able to date a spindle chronologically, OR arrange labels alphabetically; whatever he did, he could scientifically show that the one he was looking for was in the Very LAST place he thought to look; Travis had told him that to stop this from happening, he should go on looking for a while, and quit at some other place, but the elegance of this theorem had translated badly into language.
Not only did Travis find things before he quit looking, he employed ALL the latest redundant array software, and did incremental backups every day at two AM. Sam had once tried to show Travis that there was literally NOTHING that can go wrong with a computer that CANNOT BE FIXED with a 9 lb sledgehammer, but Travis had spent six weeks in the hospital for interposing his foot. To fairly attribute his abilities of debate, Travis had been able, over the weeks of convalescence, to convince Sam that the restore process was time intensive if one were looking for a specific file - Travis had asked Sam to restore his Diary for the week preceding his accident. Having finished his experiment with the sledge, Sam had found that redundant disks can be temperamental, and the resulting set-up was still finishing its restore process at 4:30 AM the day that Travis came back home, six weeks later. Travis had faithfully believed everything they told him about a twister in town that sucked the whole window frame right out of the wall, and left a pile of rubble in the lawn. Nevertheless, Sam regarded Travis as a suspect source for computer advice, and preferred sledge hammers more than ever.
For his own part, Sam had used tape travel mechanisms to keep his magnetic media moving while he restored batch style if needed. His little dolly truck would move a box at a time easily. In order to borrow the dolly, Travis had made him a gift of 1000 80GB HDDs and now Sam simply changed them out once a month using eSata. To return the kindness, Sam was saving for a ticket to Jupiter, for Travis' computer setup, whenever he got ready to update.
Whatever the case, Sam had made Travis pinky swear that if either one of them were ever arrested, they would drop everything, and transport the relevant computer system to the relevant Jurisdiction, replete with electronic copy of 1984. In this way, the innocent party could show that he had NEVER painted Mrs. Kirkpatrick's Porch Yellow.
The bulk of backup media and supporting documentation was becoming quite impressive, and Sam got out his old Polaroid just for old time's sake and took another picture. He yawned and went to bed.
There's 'No Free Lunch;'
Ursula's Uncle George had prevailed upon her for her presence, and she begged Sam to wait for her as she helped him organize his lunar calendar again. He handed her the keys to the pickup and pledged his undying love. 20 minutes later, he was popping open a lukewarm lemon-lime-green Fosters, and sitting down to watch the Book Review Channel. He liked the Book reviews, and occasionally bought the original for documentation purposes; libraries were better than you might think at figuring out which books were going to be reviewed.
The drawbacks to the Book Review Channel were different than the drawbacks of the other channels. The Commercials on the Book Review Channel (one of three identical channels on cable, all carefully numbered C-SPAN,) were loooong, FACTUALLY _CORRECT_, but _very_,_Very_ boring.
He liked Fertilizer advertisements, being something of an aficionado, like Ursula. Nevertheless, the commercial aspect of the programming was probably more appropriate to Aggies than to Ranchers.
On Balance, the drawbacks to the other channels were commercial as well. The selection was broad, interrupted by brief segments of situational comedy to break the tedium, but the articles on specific items tended to be repetitive.
By following instructions, he had never been able to make one work. True, the product usually came in the mail (often within four to six weeks,) but the bank balance never reflected the promised credits. Rebates were FAR more _reliable_!
His Father's sage advice always stuck in his head: "If you're going to save more than 8 1/2 percent of total anticipated expenditure in a year (than the membership is going to cost,) you might as well join the club."
He hoped his competition went bankrupt from Corporate cost overruns; they subsidized gasoline prices from membership sales.
Of the low-commercial channels, The Weather Channel stood out for relevance. The timetable might be off, but the content was almost always reflected in the local environment, leading to a general atmosphere of trust.
The News Channels were interesting for their politics. Sam knew that "All politics is local," and he enjoyed watching the proceedings of the global village.
Nevertheless, the Book Review Channel was his favorite. He particularly enjoyed the syndicated series on SCOTUS... even the re-runs. But this was the weekend, and new titles invited him toward a sinking sun of ignorance on his western horizon.
The drawbacks to the Book Review Channel were different than the drawbacks of the other channels. The Commercials on the Book Review Channel (one of three identical channels on cable, all carefully numbered C-SPAN,) were loooong, FACTUALLY _CORRECT_, but _very_,_Very_ boring.
He liked Fertilizer advertisements, being something of an aficionado, like Ursula. Nevertheless, the commercial aspect of the programming was probably more appropriate to Aggies than to Ranchers.
On Balance, the drawbacks to the other channels were commercial as well. The selection was broad, interrupted by brief segments of situational comedy to break the tedium, but the articles on specific items tended to be repetitive.
By following instructions, he had never been able to make one work. True, the product usually came in the mail (often within four to six weeks,) but the bank balance never reflected the promised credits. Rebates were FAR more _reliable_!
His Father's sage advice always stuck in his head: "If you're going to save more than 8 1/2 percent of total anticipated expenditure in a year (than the membership is going to cost,) you might as well join the club."
He hoped his competition went bankrupt from Corporate cost overruns; they subsidized gasoline prices from membership sales.
Of the low-commercial channels, The Weather Channel stood out for relevance. The timetable might be off, but the content was almost always reflected in the local environment, leading to a general atmosphere of trust.
The News Channels were interesting for their politics. Sam knew that "All politics is local," and he enjoyed watching the proceedings of the global village.
Nevertheless, the Book Review Channel was his favorite. He particularly enjoyed the syndicated series on SCOTUS... even the re-runs. But this was the weekend, and new titles invited him toward a sinking sun of ignorance on his western horizon.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
A Card and a Pill;
Ursula's navigation was excellent, and soon they were in a small town. Although it had not come up for debate, Ursula was a city-slicker, and regarded the strip-mall format with some suspicion. She preferred her malls large and air-conditioned (refrigerated in the summer, heated in the winter.) After a moment she gave a mental shrug of resignation; you could not blame the embarrassment of three generations of Minors on a name on a sign. They turned into the first promising niche; it was labeled 'Apothecary.' A white coated lab technician stood behind the counter, smiling invitingly. Sam was not deceived. "You look like a Baker, but without the hat," he offered frankly. "No, I'm a druggist," she answered, putting his offense on a credit plan. "Sure you're not a Chemist?" was Ursula's query. The lab technician knew the alphabet, but a word for pharmacologist that started with an "e" was just NOT available in the lexicon. "The pharmacologist is over there," she pointed, giving Sam a sideways glance. Sam's hunted gaze went straight to Ursula's eyes, as he asked, "Don't you mean a pharmacist?" without meeting the lab tech's stare directly. By their actions, the assistant mistook them for Greeks in disguise. "Pharmaco- is making them, pharmacy- is distributing them," she explained. "I thought this WAS a Pharmacy," was Sam's incredulous ejaculation. "I believe the sign on the door _does_ say 'A-P-O-T-H-O-C-A-R-Y'" the lab tech replied, spelling it out for him in so many words. Ursula nodded understanding, and explained, "We're in the wrong place... we were looking for Kleenex Tissues." "Three doors down on your right," the lab coat whispered... "They have a Pharm M AND a Pharm D."
As the pair made their way back to the truck, Sam was more mystified by the mis-communication than Ursula was, and _She_ was somewhat puzzled. "Was that a Voodoo supply store for 'eye of newt and wing of bat?'" was his question. "I don't think so," she answered honestly. "What _I'm_ trying to figure out is what kind of medicine that Witch thought you were going to take for a COLD! It's a VIRUS, NOT a _Bacteria_!" Sam was easily distracted. "When a virus runs its course, who does it race with?" Ursula regarded him fondly. He was not unarmed in a battle of the wits,. but he would never take Gold at the Intellectual Olympics. "I don't know Sam, but it almost _Always_ gets caught before it finishes," she teased back. He broke the seal on the brand new box of tissues and stuffed the two spare boxes into a cranny.
As they set off again, Sam made a metal note that Ursula was a boring driver, and took up the pharmaceutical theme. He had once heard a whole song just about pills by Alan Sherman. "I once heard a whole song just about pills by Alan Sherman!" he shared. "Who was Alan Sherman?" she asked dutifully, squirreling her 'Extra' away in a nook. "He was the 50's generation's 'Weird Al.'" he explained. "It was off the 'For Swingin' Livers Only' album. It was pretty scientific too, talked about how they wake you up to take a sleeping pill in the hospital and everything. Finished up with 'there's no pill that can cure the common cold,' too, just like you said." Ursula preened. Sam's idea of credentialing was novel, possibly original with him (which was food for thought,) but it was nice to be put on such a pedestal nonetheless. "Do you know the BEST pill to take with you to a discotheque?" she decided to teach him. "Nope," was his monosyllabic reply. Truth to be told, it was not obvious how a pill was supposed to facilitate the experience, but he allowed that psychological enhancements might be possible; she was very smart at the moment. "Oxcytocin," she delivered with satisfaction.
"What's Oxytocin?" he asked without guile, after an appropriately respectful pause. "It's the hormone mothers produce when babies get over sucking out the colostrum, and starts the milk supply." she enumerated. Sam was pretty sure that this did not _entirely_ dispel the mystery, but waited patiently – the milk supply sounded promising. "It is the physical manifestation of trust in your blood!" Sam was turned on. The prospect of random honeys trusting him with their milk supply, in a discotheque, had possibilities that extended beyond refrigerated Texaco. He worded his next question carefully. "If you break the pills in half, do they lose strength?" he asked. This unexpected intelligence pleased her brain, and she became physically aware of him. She returned his volley without spin. "Oh, it's not like OxyCONtin... that stuff will put you to SLEEP!" "If you give it to a honey will she sleep WITH you?" he asked unguardedly. Ursula could see that he was in no real danger of straying and took no affront. "You actually have a better chance with Oxytocin," she replied kindly. Sam made a mental note that Ursula liked Oxytocin, and continued. "Why doesn't Oxycontin work if you break the pill?"
Ursula was honest with herself. The in-organic chemistry of Oxycontin was simpler than the bio-chemistry, and she didn't even fully understand the IN-organic chemistry. However, Sam was not knowledgeable, and a little knowledge was a dangerous thing. She decided to have a little fun at his expense and teach him just enough to be dangerous. She knew that vandalism was wrong, but she just didn't care WHO paid to teach him enough to be safe again - she'd put him through graduate school herself if she had too; it was going to be WORTH it.
"The definition of addiction is different than that of alcoholism, Sam," she began. "Alcoholism is a metabolic dependence on alcohol, whereas _Addiction_ is the quality of a substance to need more and more of it to achieve the same effect. The scourge of addiction has the smallest sliver of a silver lining. Whatever dose you start out with can set the level of your high. Too much of an unfamiliar drug will kill you - witness the effects of strychnine, BUT, it can also be like a deep discharge electric battery. You charge it half-way the first time, and ever after, no matter HOW LONG YOU CHARGE IT, it NEVER gets any longer electronic life. Sam had vague memories of Volts, Watts and Amps, but drugs were far more fascinating. "So you can maximize the jading with a minimal dose?" he inquired. "I guess that's one way to look at it Sam," she agreed, "but why are you on and on about _Jading_?"
"Oh, I guess it's just that that's the reductio ad absurdum of the recreational argument," Sam returned between well contained sneezes. "If that's your final destination, why not make it your Goal?"
Ursula regarded this as a kind of 'great circle route,' to the truth, and regretted his current indisposition. "Let's spend the night in a Motel," she replied with total lack of segue. He understood effortlessly - his rhetoric grades had never been very good. "As long as it isn't a NoTell franchise," he smiled. She was more fun than a Nintendo and a joy-stick; the competition in the motel room should be interesting.
"Nature Abhors a vacuum!"
As the pair made their way back to the truck, Sam was more mystified by the mis-communication than Ursula was, and _She_ was somewhat puzzled. "Was that a Voodoo supply store for 'eye of newt and wing of bat?'" was his question. "I don't think so," she answered honestly. "What _I'm_ trying to figure out is what kind of medicine that Witch thought you were going to take for a COLD! It's a VIRUS, NOT a _Bacteria_!" Sam was easily distracted. "When a virus runs its course, who does it race with?" Ursula regarded him fondly. He was not unarmed in a battle of the wits,. but he would never take Gold at the Intellectual Olympics. "I don't know Sam, but it almost _Always_ gets caught before it finishes," she teased back. He broke the seal on the brand new box of tissues and stuffed the two spare boxes into a cranny.
As they set off again, Sam made a metal note that Ursula was a boring driver, and took up the pharmaceutical theme. He had once heard a whole song just about pills by Alan Sherman. "I once heard a whole song just about pills by Alan Sherman!" he shared. "Who was Alan Sherman?" she asked dutifully, squirreling her 'Extra' away in a nook. "He was the 50's generation's 'Weird Al.'" he explained. "It was off the 'For Swingin' Livers Only' album. It was pretty scientific too, talked about how they wake you up to take a sleeping pill in the hospital and everything. Finished up with 'there's no pill that can cure the common cold,' too, just like you said." Ursula preened. Sam's idea of credentialing was novel, possibly original with him (which was food for thought,) but it was nice to be put on such a pedestal nonetheless. "Do you know the BEST pill to take with you to a discotheque?" she decided to teach him. "Nope," was his monosyllabic reply. Truth to be told, it was not obvious how a pill was supposed to facilitate the experience, but he allowed that psychological enhancements might be possible; she was very smart at the moment. "Oxcytocin," she delivered with satisfaction.
"What's Oxytocin?" he asked without guile, after an appropriately respectful pause. "It's the hormone mothers produce when babies get over sucking out the colostrum, and starts the milk supply." she enumerated. Sam was pretty sure that this did not _entirely_ dispel the mystery, but waited patiently – the milk supply sounded promising. "It is the physical manifestation of trust in your blood!" Sam was turned on. The prospect of random honeys trusting him with their milk supply, in a discotheque, had possibilities that extended beyond refrigerated Texaco. He worded his next question carefully. "If you break the pills in half, do they lose strength?" he asked. This unexpected intelligence pleased her brain, and she became physically aware of him. She returned his volley without spin. "Oh, it's not like OxyCONtin... that stuff will put you to SLEEP!" "If you give it to a honey will she sleep WITH you?" he asked unguardedly. Ursula could see that he was in no real danger of straying and took no affront. "You actually have a better chance with Oxytocin," she replied kindly. Sam made a mental note that Ursula liked Oxytocin, and continued. "Why doesn't Oxycontin work if you break the pill?"
Ursula was honest with herself. The in-organic chemistry of Oxycontin was simpler than the bio-chemistry, and she didn't even fully understand the IN-organic chemistry. However, Sam was not knowledgeable, and a little knowledge was a dangerous thing. She decided to have a little fun at his expense and teach him just enough to be dangerous. She knew that vandalism was wrong, but she just didn't care WHO paid to teach him enough to be safe again - she'd put him through graduate school herself if she had too; it was going to be WORTH it.
"The definition of addiction is different than that of alcoholism, Sam," she began. "Alcoholism is a metabolic dependence on alcohol, whereas _Addiction_ is the quality of a substance to need more and more of it to achieve the same effect. The scourge of addiction has the smallest sliver of a silver lining. Whatever dose you start out with can set the level of your high. Too much of an unfamiliar drug will kill you - witness the effects of strychnine, BUT, it can also be like a deep discharge electric battery. You charge it half-way the first time, and ever after, no matter HOW LONG YOU CHARGE IT, it NEVER gets any longer electronic life. Sam had vague memories of Volts, Watts and Amps, but drugs were far more fascinating. "So you can maximize the jading with a minimal dose?" he inquired. "I guess that's one way to look at it Sam," she agreed, "but why are you on and on about _Jading_?"
"Oh, I guess it's just that that's the reductio ad absurdum of the recreational argument," Sam returned between well contained sneezes. "If that's your final destination, why not make it your Goal?"
Ursula regarded this as a kind of 'great circle route,' to the truth, and regretted his current indisposition. "Let's spend the night in a Motel," she replied with total lack of segue. He understood effortlessly - his rhetoric grades had never been very good. "As long as it isn't a NoTell franchise," he smiled. She was more fun than a Nintendo and a joy-stick; the competition in the motel room should be interesting.
"Nature Abhors a vacuum!"
Heat is faster - you can CATCH Cold!
At the Texaco, Sam had rubbed his tired eyes, right after touching the bathroom door knob, and now he was feeling sneezy. His throat was itchy (as well as his eyes,) and a little dry and he knew a cold was almost inevitable. "Ursula, are you sure you didn't catch anything back at the Texaco?" "Well I didn't shoot any rabbits, if that's what you mean, Sam," she replied. "No, I mean it... did you use the toilet seat?"
"That's a pretty personal question don't you think?" she reproached. Sam blushed... that wasn't what he had meant. "I'm sure you used a hole in a dental dam," he comforted her, "What I meant was, Did you catch a cold too?" "I didn't catch a cold FIRST, to go WITH anything else, Sam, besides which we were hunting, not TRAPPING!"
For the first time in his life, Sam experimented with the pickup's window mechanism. It took time, which he felt he needed, and fresh air swirled about the cabin. As the temperature in the compartment plummeted, he rolled it back up quickly, and preempted any further misunderstanding by volunteering,"Sorry, _I_ shot a rabbit." "_I_ caught a cold back at the Texaco..." he stopped, wondering if he should go on. Her heart softened with understanding, and she reassured him, "Well, I didn't join you in your folly; We''ll have to fix you up!" He stopped wondering if he should go on. There seemed little else to say, and he did not even waste a single syllable further. He pulled over and let her assume the responsibility of driving. Since his bandanna was NOT going to be sufficient, he rooted around and dug out an old soft tee. As they got underway again, Ursula served notice early on the tee. "Kleenex has an Aloe Vera offering that will save you wear and tear on your nose," she began. "That tee will do for the first leg, but if I have MY way, we'll burn it... viruses can survive the wildest extremes of heat and cold and humidity. If you throw away every tissue you blow on, you'll never re-infect yourself. I'll at least have a fighting chance, and I'll not neglect a virgin screwdriver for vitamin C." "Does that REALLY _work_?" he asked. "I don't believe in it enough to overdo it, but it ain't exactly superstition," she replied. "I'm mainly worried about an un-trapped sneeze, particularly in this intimate environment." "What do you want me to do, open the window and sneeze outside? You'll GET cold and _Catch_ cold ANYWAY!" "Now SAMUEL CLEMENTINE the _THIRD_," she rebuked. "You KNOW you can run around stark naked on the Arctic Ice and STILL not catch cold from the weather. The germs incubate on your soft palette, and proliferate in the warmth and dryness of winter heating. You could open the window with _impunity_. What I meant is that the germs will fill a 40 cubic foot space from just ONE sneeze, and one droplet properly applied is all it takes to get me!" Sam knew another way to "get" her, but it involved an exchange of bodily fluids, and was only possible if he began by kissing her, which wasn't likely under these conditions. "Kleenex make their tissues _very_ durable, so sneezes don't tear though very easily," she continued apparently unaware of his mixed feelings. "If you absolutely can't get to one in time, use your elbow to do what you can... you can't rub your eyes or anything ELSE with your elbow." Sam folded his left arm at his short sleeved bare elbow, and regarded it as if he had never seen it before. It was Ursula's turn to blush and she hurriedly added, "either way Sam."
"That's a pretty personal question don't you think?" she reproached. Sam blushed... that wasn't what he had meant. "I'm sure you used a hole in a dental dam," he comforted her, "What I meant was, Did you catch a cold too?" "I didn't catch a cold FIRST, to go WITH anything else, Sam, besides which we were hunting, not TRAPPING!"
For the first time in his life, Sam experimented with the pickup's window mechanism. It took time, which he felt he needed, and fresh air swirled about the cabin. As the temperature in the compartment plummeted, he rolled it back up quickly, and preempted any further misunderstanding by volunteering,"Sorry, _I_ shot a rabbit." "_I_ caught a cold back at the Texaco..." he stopped, wondering if he should go on. Her heart softened with understanding, and she reassured him, "Well, I didn't join you in your folly; We''ll have to fix you up!" He stopped wondering if he should go on. There seemed little else to say, and he did not even waste a single syllable further. He pulled over and let her assume the responsibility of driving. Since his bandanna was NOT going to be sufficient, he rooted around and dug out an old soft tee. As they got underway again, Ursula served notice early on the tee. "Kleenex has an Aloe Vera offering that will save you wear and tear on your nose," she began. "That tee will do for the first leg, but if I have MY way, we'll burn it... viruses can survive the wildest extremes of heat and cold and humidity. If you throw away every tissue you blow on, you'll never re-infect yourself. I'll at least have a fighting chance, and I'll not neglect a virgin screwdriver for vitamin C." "Does that REALLY _work_?" he asked. "I don't believe in it enough to overdo it, but it ain't exactly superstition," she replied. "I'm mainly worried about an un-trapped sneeze, particularly in this intimate environment." "What do you want me to do, open the window and sneeze outside? You'll GET cold and _Catch_ cold ANYWAY!" "Now SAMUEL CLEMENTINE the _THIRD_," she rebuked. "You KNOW you can run around stark naked on the Arctic Ice and STILL not catch cold from the weather. The germs incubate on your soft palette, and proliferate in the warmth and dryness of winter heating. You could open the window with _impunity_. What I meant is that the germs will fill a 40 cubic foot space from just ONE sneeze, and one droplet properly applied is all it takes to get me!" Sam knew another way to "get" her, but it involved an exchange of bodily fluids, and was only possible if he began by kissing her, which wasn't likely under these conditions. "Kleenex make their tissues _very_ durable, so sneezes don't tear though very easily," she continued apparently unaware of his mixed feelings. "If you absolutely can't get to one in time, use your elbow to do what you can... you can't rub your eyes or anything ELSE with your elbow." Sam folded his left arm at his short sleeved bare elbow, and regarded it as if he had never seen it before. It was Ursula's turn to blush and she hurriedly added, "either way Sam."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)