Argumentum Sempiterna ad Miseracordium

Wow, there's nothing on...

2010-06-12T00:14:00.002-04:00

the telly tube,
yet here I am,
flipping through channel
after channel,
surfing the guide
for a glimpse of entertainment,
lounging on the couch,
fist full of chips,
munching and spewing food all over,
staring blankly at the screen,
of visionary mush,
and oh my,
I come to a startling realization,
Wow, there's nothing on...

Fragments...

2010-02-09T21:07:00.003-05:00

Gorm-fisted Guards sat the ruins of Dun's palace, weeping for souls they had shorn from the world

Battlements near them were hung with their women, a tribute from Dun for their steel fortitude

They slew as he bid them, their greaves all red-mantled, raging their shame out on those they had borne

Then laughing Dun gave them a feast of great plenty, saying "Now you have entered my service unbound!"

No man there ate flesh on that night devil-minted, save Dun who consumed all that sullied his plate

-----------------------------------

Dog!" he cried, and ran to the gibbet

while twirling they ate at the peak of their hearts

"Down!" skirled out, from the mouth of the freed one

as drowning they slept with a sickening fate

What folly I practiced

around the grand ceilings

of Dernham's refectr'y

and the howling gate

How ugly we seemed

chewing madly at rivers

hands knotted together

to muffle the prate

-------------------------------------

Grunting ran the devils, their hooves blood-slick and bitter

We met them under Bornas Mount, and sold our sons to stop them

They trod upon their faces, and wove hair-cloaks from their tresses

Arnan did escape them, thrusting forth his brother Sunt

Then laying with the corpses and off-slinking once they passed

Language!

2009-10-29T23:00:00.002-04:00

I've been thinking about the process of picking up (learning) a new language, in light of my recent studies of Mandarin. It seems to me that there are a number of steps or phases to the process, and I think the order (or sequence) is important. The first is the recognition of the written language, as far as proper pronunciation. In Mandarin, for instance, it was a trick for me to not pronounce a "q" as a "keeyoo", but as a "ch". This process allows me to pick up new words reliably from written sources. The next part is recognition by ear of these same syllables or sounds. This is a process that continues throughout the learning of the language, as new words are picked up and then rcognized in audible examples. The third part is similar to this process of recognizing sounds, but is instead the recognition or perception of the language's rhythm. By this, I mean that there is a distinct pattern of pauses and parts of speech that run together. By recognizing and internalizing this rhythm, the picking up of individual words in a spoken sentence is made much easier. This part in fact probably takes place concurrently with the second part, the catching by ear of sounds. Next, and probably most important in terms of making the aquisition of a new language a self-perpetuating and sustainable process, is the learning of feedback-phrases, or phrases and questions that allow the organic acquisition of new vocabulary in conversation. For instance(and only once your ear is trained and able to separate distinct words in a spoken sentence) the questions "what does 'x' mean?" or "please repeat that", or "how do you say 'x' in (e.g) chinese allow you to pick up new words in context, and without interrupting the flow of conversation. It occurs to me know that when a new word is learned in such a way, it is immediately "field-tested". This immediacy could help in retention, as opposed to reading a word or phrase one day, and then trying to remember to field test it in the next conversation...it's also kind of unnatural to shoehorn whatever you happen to be studying into a casual conversation.

Buddy

2008-09-22T11:41:00.002-04:00

I really love this cat.

Millstones

2008-09-15T17:37:00.004-04:00

I found a park today, the David Fortier River Park. It was a kind of steep, rocky park, and I slipped and fell hard once before I understood the terrain. I walked down to the creek there, and found an honest-to-god millstone, which I have never seen before. Amazing, I thought! I took a picture, I examined the pattern on its face, I pondered how much work it had been to make that huge thing, and then to drag it to the river. I kept exploring this park, and found a broad glen with a pavilion and picnic tables...the tables were also millstones. They had placed them flat side up on stone slabs, and then later concrete had been used to join the two. I found a stairway leading down to the river from this glen, and most of the steps were old millstones too. It was amazing...like living archaeology. If they built those stairs slowly, one at a time, then that staircase is a museum of technology...a stratigraphic record of the advances made in each successive generation of millstones.
Fascinating.

Secrets of the Ancients:

2008-08-29T21:26:00.003-04:00

I would be making this right now...

Oat-Meal Flummery

The following recipe was transcribed verbatim from

Peterson's Magazine

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

April, 1859

Take a pint of bruised groats, and put three pints of water to them, early in the morning, and let it stand till noon; then add the same quantity of water as before, stir it well, and let it stand till four o'clock.; then run it through a sieve; boil it; keep stirring it all the while, and put in a spoonful of water now and then as it boils. When it begins to thicken, drop a little on a plate; when it leaves the plate it is complete. Put it in glasses, and when cold turn it out

...if i knew what a groat was. Maybe it's a typo? Possibly it should read "a pint of bruised stoats"? I thought a stoat was a weasel of some sort...how can I bruise even half a cup of stoat? I have seen Rikki-Tikki-Tavi...I know my limits. I am not currently insured. If a roused (justifiably!) stoat flashes up my arm and burrows into my brain through my horror-widened eye, I will not be able to have the damage repaired in a reputable medical facility. This means that, in addition to not having color-vision or the ability to pronounce vowels (the stoat ate them), I will have to wear an eye-patch. FOREVER.

No thank you. This recipe does not even include sugar, so it is probably not even worth eating, let alone sacrificing my dignity, depth-perception, and currently unbroken streak of not having an animal eat my flesh.

Thank you to,

http://theoldentimes.com/

Bad Latin

2008-08-23T19:14:00.002-04:00

Please feel free to furnish your own translations for the title...I used a free online Latin translator.

Bad english:

I ain't no goldarn Muscovite! Iffen you-all wanna, we's can go dae-own ta thuh commysars office, an have a look atis master liiiist.

Part 1! (hard to finish)

2008-07-12T18:23:00.004-04:00

I found a feather walking,
this feather, it was stripe-ed.
I saw it from some distance,
5.8 feet, (I'm a biped).
It is perched now on my mantle
And I must confess, I feel
that it has lost some of its glamour,
like a spoke snapped from a wheel.
Or a dog cut from its traces;
that is, some integral part, that is
meaningless and paltry, when it's
sundered from its heart.
Heart?! not heart-as-organ,
beating hard and machine-true,
but heart as purpose, savvy?
the Thing that things are formed to Do.

The Dregs.

2008-07-12T02:06:00.001-04:00

Here is the land at the bottom,
Here sits the mad King of stench.
Where is the shining one,
battle-slicked, and competent?
Where is the earth-love,
and the fear of Doing Wrong?
I beat my breast, I give
ashes to the wailers...
I am the Eater of all things,
and I have a billion mouths.

Rest in peace, and may God comfort and protect yours...

2008-06-18T00:31:00.002-04:00

Farewell to Stan Winston. This guy created most of the mental furniture of my childhood...I still measure most action movies against Aliens, and Terminator 2 and Jurassic Park were special events in my family. Folks die, and I never knew him, but I am glad he lived.

Found this, seems relevant:

2008-06-12T21:34:00.002-04:00

'I heard this story a long time ago-of the tribal elder who was telling his grandson about the battle the old man was waging inside himself. He said, "It is between two wolves, my son. One is an evil wolf: Anger, envy, sorrow, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is the good wolf: Joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. " The boy thought this over for a minute, and then asked his grandfather: "Which wolf wins?" The old Cherokee replied simply; "The one I feed." '

-Bill Moyers, speech to the National Media Reform Conference, 6-7-08

This is surprising, and A Storm Is Grumbling Over My Shoulder.

2008-06-09T20:56:00.001-04:00

Beer is a temporal binding agent.

Apologies to Robert Anton Wilson.

Strange Wisdom

2008-05-24T05:41:00.001-04:00

I feel that a man who is happy with his job would wear a tweed hat.

-Roger Berdan

What is Universe trying to tell me?

2008-05-01T23:29:00.001-04:00

Doom. It seems to crowd me. It is jostling for supremacy. That cocksucker has no morals, old Doom. He lives in my head. This sounds superfluous, or metaphysical, masturbatory, but it is very important. Doom in my head is trying to place himself above me, between me and god...but he is foolish. He is of the same stuff as me. God and I and Doom are the same stuff...we all connect, and breath each other into our lungs... So. Where does this leave me? When I say me, who do I mean? If Doom and God live in me, aren't they me? Schizophrenia? Madness of the first order? I think not..."I" meaning my will...my Will. There is Doom, sure. There is God, certainly. But I am King, here. I order. I create order, and the world inside my head is ordered, and sighs in relief.

This is True.

This is nothing of note...

2008-04-29T14:31:00.003-04:00

This post is merely a stretching of the mind-muscles. I have no...point here, and it will probably waste your time and sadden you if you read it. Mind-muscles...tubes? Tendrils? Thicker than that...bundled, straining concept-fibers...I picture them, right now, being stuck together, cemented by some kind of hardened ichor. I had to add ichor to the spellcheck's dictionary. Bleeeeaaargh! The idea here is to cause a convulsion, a trembling and a heaving that will shake the accumulated bindings free, a cracking, flaking shudder that will race through my Brrrrain, and leave behind a new flexibility, and new (New!) connections as freed ideas (which are bundled, remember, like fibers in a rope) rub against other ideas, and cause terrible, world shaking notions to be birthed, and freed into the world.

Right! This work cannot be done while I am in a normal state, so I must cause a pervasive difference in my thought processes, cause the State of my thinking-bag to change, and then shoot a babble of terrible, stinging garbage through it to bash and heave the thought-fibers free.

So I am going to punch myself savagely again and again, and the let the madness flow.

Aggghhhh! It hurts a bit, the pain is fading a dog is free fromthe time of evil....eat the flesh, go to the name of horto........king....reel.....jon..........but Iam not a good reader, I don't ......................arbor.......good............................thats all.

I don't think I hurt myself enough.

The wisdom of the ages is a Cold Lie uttered by a thing that is not a man.

2008-04-27T19:59:00.004-04:00

The grubs, as usual, were uninformative. One fat jaunty fellow told me of a gathering, but he did not say of what. One beetle told me that he was once a Prince of Morocco, and then waved his wings at me. They shimmered, you know? He said they reminded him of the miles of pale silk that adorned the walls of his palace, and the veils of his hundred women, those veils that hid, but hiding...showed such promise that it was all he could do, on some of the cool mornings in that dry place, to Speak To His People of rules high and low before he sank into the jasmine-wafting softness of the harem.

He could not produce his royal seal, or any documents to establish his pedigree, so I waved him away. He laughed as he flew off, buzzing and jinking. Was he laughing, I wondered, at himself...at his jest?

Or was he laughing at me, and my little, unshakable doubts?

Huh. Goddamn beetle put me off my feed.

A quote, of note...

2008-04-27T12:14:00.003-04:00

"I'm either gonna be a legend, or that tragic fuckin' story...either way, I'm going full throttle..."

-Dave Chapelle, of all people

Harsh Medicine

2008-04-27T10:18:00.002-04:00

It is time for a walkabout. I keep trying to suckle at the entertainment teat. I keep moving blindly towards television, and television shows on Intertron, and the dog-like eating of filthy food.

It is time to remember the lessons of THE GODDAMN DESERT.

It is time for a walkabout, for Walkabout. I must go to my church, and turn over some logs and see what the beetles and grubs have to say about all of this...

HA Hahahahahaha!

2008-04-26T23:11:00.007-04:00

I have returned! Since no one reads this god-cursed screed except me, it is time to let it all hang out. So! Here is a list of my deepest fears, in order:

1-The part of my brain that spins elaborate fear-fantasies.

2-...Shit, I don't know...I heard a mountain lion scream once, at night, in a tent...that was scary...my balls pulled into my body involuntarily, and I lost the ability to move, briefly...that was deeply frightening, but only at that moment. I have no fear of mountain lions in general.

3-The way in which some spiders and some bugs (notably, centipedes) move. Or possibly, the particular type of movement...you have seen it. There is no warning, at all, they are stillandthentheyaremovingfasterthantheyshouldbeabletoWHERE
ARETHELAWSOFPHYSICSKILLITKILLIT!
Like that.

I list these fears because I am, at the moment, deeply narcissistic. I am fascinated with looking at myself...it was pointed out to me recently by one who loves me (and one who I love) that I may not have been looking at myself...it has caused some pain.

Fuck all that. It is gone, now. Onward.

Here is a song.

Some cats, some cats are VERY VERY FAT.
They bounce and roll, instead of being quick.
I like this trait in felines, I like it for the fact
That I eat cats for a living (I stun them with a stick!)
I am a filthy Carny, I'm too dumb to work the rides,
My sistermom's the big boss, so I get to work inside...
They call me Geek and monster, but the rubes say
That I am...the greatest Geek since Scrunto,
Who once ate a bag of weasels and a gorm-pig in one day!
So-I gets me lots of Kitties (fast or slick or slow)
And I eat them on the platform, like a jester at his best.
The audience is horrified! They groan and weep and bray...
But some come back for every show! They're...different than the rest.

Song of the high seas...

2008-01-26T23:09:00.000-05:00

I am the son of an Irish sea-dog...
I eat more slop'n a Bristol meat-hog...
My veins run with salt water,
So I drinks the blood of men.

Rum tum tooie, rum tum teee...
I am the lord and king of the sea!
I roam where i will and I do what i please...
sometimes I kill 10 dolphins.

Ohhhhhhhhhh
Rum tum tooie, rum tum taaa
I'm the the inventor of the pirate phrase "arrrgh".
I sailed into the mouth of hellllll
My crew was et, but I came out well...

'cause I fed my crew to the devil.

Cisco password features

2008-01-20T01:50:00.000-05:00

No VLSM. I got sidetracked...if anyone besides me is interested, here is a rundown of my night's investigations...

Cisco routers use different passwords for different functions...
-To enter privileged mode, where you can make global configuration changes, etc.-There is a plaintext password option, that is, it shows up in plaintext when the router's configuration is viewed...there is also an encrypted version, it uses a proprietary algorithm. The commands to set these-
Router(config)#enable password user password
Router(config)#enable secret user password
One of these must be set, or you can't enter privileged mode from a remote terminal. Which brings me to...

-The VTY line password(s). These are the remote access telnet lines, I guess most cisco routers can have 5 lines open at once. The same password can be used for all 5, using the commands-Router(config)#line vty 0 4 ----this specifies all lines, that is, 0 through 4, or 0 1 2 3 4
Router(config-line)#password user password
Router(config-line)#login ----this tells the router to check this password! It seems that checking for these lines is turned on by default.
These passwords must be set, or the router won't allow incoming telnet sessions. Next-

-The console password. This one seems pretty straightforward. It's the password on the console port, for local terminal access. To set:
Router(config)#line console 0
Router(config-line)#password user password
Router(config-line)#login ----remember, this turns on password checking. Unlike the VTY lines, this must be enabled manually.

Hahaha...boring, in one sense...but these strange byzantine procedures are currently keeping the information revolution smashing forward...I hope Cisco's lawyers don't smash me.

Script, part 2

2008-01-16T21:09:00.000-05:00

(read part 1 first!)

Rotabular: With that settled, I wanna hammer out some details...how many potential troops wil we-

Grottington [interrupting]: Dear God, stop!

Rotabular: Eh?

Grottington: Do you mean to tell me that Operation: "Soon We Will Be as Gods Amongst the Puling Masses" isn't a radical new cracker distribution system?!

Rotabular: Calm down, Grottington...I mean, we could use our savage legions to distribute crackers...

Grottington [shouting]: This is wrong! Forget the goddamned legal issues...you can't do this! What in Hell is wrong with you people?!

Botsford: Take it easy, Steve...

Grottington: Easy? EASY?! You monsters are talking about enslaving free men everywhere for your own twisted gain! I'll tell the world! [Grottington shoots to his feet, knocking his chair to the ground] You can not do this!

Botsford: Easy, boy...easy...

[Krieg gets to his feet and moves toward the door, keeping his eyes on Grottington]

Rotabular[in a flat, carrying voice]: Grottington.

Grottington: Eh?

Rotabular: I'll give you Nepal.

Grottington: What? But I...

Rotabular: Tough negotiator, eh? No wonder I hired ya...[chuckles] South Dakota, too. Alright, pal?

Grottington [confused, wavering]: But...wrong...evil...

Rotabular: C'mon, boy...our brave new world needs mid-level purchasing managers. [winks]

Grottington: Aw, shuck, G.J.M. You got yourself a deal!

--Ah, a happy ending--

Up next...Variable Length Subnet Masking! Very few musing, very little savagery.

Script, part 1

2008-01-16T01:43:00.000-05:00

Here is a thing I wrote some time ago in a storyboarding class...it makes me laugh.

-Exterior, Durham building, downtown St. Louis...a mighty tower of glass and steel. Track in through large windows on high floor to...

-Interior, Rotabular industries executive boardroom. A large rectangular conference table is surrounded by well-dressed young executives. The table is littered with briefcases, water glasses, pens, etc. At the head of the table sits a grim-faced old man, rather portly, with a shaven head and bristling moustache. He is G.J.M. Rotabular himself, and he is fuming.

Rotabular: And why not, goddammit?! Give me a single straight answer!

Krieg (young executive): Gosh, G.J.M....it's still...well...

Rotabular: Well?

Krieg: Not to imply, you understand, that you're unaware of the facts, but something like this is, in a way...rather...

Botsford (executive near far end of table) [to Krieg]: Christ, Johann! It's against the law.

-Stunned, every head in the room turns to regard Botsford. Krieg sputters ineffectually.

Botsford [to Rotabular]: You know as well as I do, sir, that mounting a "mind control ray" on our broadcasting satellite and using it to turn the global consumer base into an army of fanatics which we will then use to topple world governments allowing us to sit in judgment over all humanity as the kings of old once did...is not within the boundaries of the law.

Krieg: But, sir...this man knows nothing about-

Rotabular [interrupting]: Cram it, Johnny. Botsford, I like the way you think. You being my new Vice President, I feel obligated to address your concerns. [pause for effect] I'm gonna turn it on the legal eagles first of all. Bwah ha! Ha ha...

-Botsford chuckles along with G.J.M. while Krieg fumes. Meanwhile, a mid-level purchasing manager named Grottington wrestles with a stunning revelation...

PART 2 TOMORROW!

Truisms, unassailable

2008-01-04T05:17:00.000-05:00

Every god-cursed contestant on Hell's Kitchen season 2 is white trash.

ALL CHEESE SMELLS ALIKE, save fake cheeses, id est, those impregnated with flaaaaavor.

Poem

2008-01-03T18:11:00.000-05:00

The dog and wolf-pack run swiftly...
but none of them can climb a tree.
At least, not quite as well as me.
I am, you see... the King Monkey!

Bringin' it back!

2007-12-12T18:45:00.001-05:00

Today standing in line at the bank gave me the fantods. This is a word I lifted from Huckleberry Finn. It means nervous, freaked out, uneasy. My family and I are bringing it back!

FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNTTTTTTTTTTTTTTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDSSSSSSSSSSSS!

Some of my favorite things...

2007-12-09T19:49:00.000-05:00

Raindrops on kittens and whiskery roses, pickles and froggies and frost-blistered noses...

No! No!

Here are some of my favorite blogs and websites!

http://simplemusingsaboutnothing.blogspot.com/
-Wacky fun! Poetical musings! Genius!

http://redfisher512.blogspot.com/
-Wisdom, and nature's beauty.

http://www.smiley1596.blogspot.com/
-Funny shit, expert stamp advice...I wish he'd update more often...

http://un1ve853.blogspot.com/
-Laughs like gut-punches! Insights around every corner!

http://www.yaaah.net/
Fine art. Check out the gallery, but watch your mind. IT...MIGHT...GET...BLOOOOOOOWN.

Welcome to the Future.

2007-12-09T10:42:00.000-05:00

"They also sell access to the compromised machines, which are called flesh chickens (because “chicken” has the same pronunciation as “machine” in Chinese), in the underground market."

-from http://honeyblog.org/junkyard/reports/www-china-TR.pdf

What does this mean? It means that if your username and password for a certain website is stolen by Chinese computer criminals, they will sell access to your PC to other Chinese computer criminals and then refer to it with brand-new slang based on the coincidental similarity between the words for poultry and device. We are living in a Neal Stephenson novel. According to this report, 1.49% of Chinese websites are malicious, or contain malicious code. So, 200,000 chances for you to become a Flesh Chicken! Good luck.

Comics I have loved, Comics I still loathe...

2007-12-09T02:13:00.000-05:00

It is not my intention to be mean, or to kick the retarded homeless quadriplegic who can't defend himself, but here is a link to the least funny comic strip I have ever encountered:

http://www.thedinetteset.com/

The Dinette Set. Here is a typical strip's dialogue, from my memory:

Fat Thing #1: I am goin to the market to buy fish sticks for dinner

Fat Thing #2: No get filets filets are an expensive cut

That's it. THAT'S THE "comic" STRIP.

Sorry, Julie Larson. I am sure you have talents in many other areas, and I consider it a great accomplishment to have your work in hundreds of papers, but I would appreciate some HUMOR.

Here, however, is one of my top five Comic strips of all time:

http://www.uclick.com/client/mor/ob/2007/12/01/

Enjoy it...savor it...

Indiana, don't let Shia Kill you when all those Thugee couldn't.

2007-12-08T12:40:00.000-05:00

I hope they don't screw up this next Indiana Jones movie as bad as they did Star Wars...I just watched the real Star Wars movies again. They are fun and fine... but the new ones? How would you describe them? Like opening a christmas present that is the exact size and shape of the thing you've been wanting ALL YEAR, and as soon as you tear the paper a meat-stink rushes into your nostrils and you fall down...as you lay there gasping, it seems as though the package really does contain that thing you desire...it's the same shape...colors are right...yeah! Yeah, it IS th-! Aghhh! AGGGHHHH! WHAT"S PUNCHING ME IN THE BALLS! AGGHH! CHRIST! WHY WON"T IT STOP!

Signs!

2007-11-29T20:26:00.000-05:00

Today I saw 2 signs! The first was on the driveway of a high school, and it said CHICKEN SHACK AVENUE. I used to feel morose when I saw the messages on the sign going into my high school, like BUY YEARBOOKS NOW or MIDWINTER BREAK STARTS FRIDAY the Monday after that particular break. I may have joined the circus if I had to see that chicken shack monstrosity every day. Or I would have eaten more chicken.

The second sign was on top of a FOR SALE sign in front of a house. It said I'M GORGEOUS INSIDE! I would like to see this sign hung around the neck of reputable hookers, or have patients of successful surgeries wear them as advertising, to defray medical costs.

Bleeeeeaarrrgh. Blog pressure building.

2007-11-26T22:55:00.000-05:00

Must post...have nothing to say...dogs run slowly, while the last goose is freely given. All seven gorges are full of the savage meat left after the pauper's grave-dance. Why eat a large torte when each dram of torment flows thickly down the man-hill? All is given, all will be taken, all and all, each is alone.

Sartorial -or- the most boring word

2007-11-18T00:05:00.000-05:00

Sartorial means, of all things, "of or pertaining to a tailor, tailored clothes, or the sartorius muscle". The sartorius muscle is apparently the longest one in your body, but this is still a boring concept married to a cool-sounding word. I feel betrayed.

Verisimilitude!

2007-11-16T16:46:00.000-05:00

Verisimilitude is the appearance of truth, or something similiar to truth. To my way of thinking, this word is like a miniature course in effective lying. If a thing has verisimilitude, it simulates the truth...on the surface. Veri...true, simil...appears to be, imitates. Faaaaascinating.

Reticulated demystified.

2007-11-16T06:54:00.000-05:00

Reticulate means netlike, or forming a net-shaped pattern...reticulated means marked with, or having such a pattern. The example of this word that everyone knows, the reticulated python, I always thought had something to do with the pythons' skeletal articulation. Articulate, reticulate...a reasonable mistake. Now I know, a reticulated python has net-like markings.

Fascinating! More to come...

Ignorance: DESTROYED! Darkness: ILLUMINATED!

2007-11-15T23:04:00.000-05:00

Hello, loyal blog readers. Both of you. Tonight I inaugurate a new feature, which is startling in its boldness. I have thousands of words rattling around in my brain which I do not know the meaning of (grammar is one of them :) ). I will list a few of them, and then spend my time between posts finding the meaning of them. PAY ATTENTION! I will cunningly sneak false definitions into my lists, to keep you on your toes.

This is exciting.

IT BEGINS!

Verisimilitude!
Weimar!
Reticulated!
Sartorial!

and...fantragle.

Compensations for being Canadian do exist, despite previous reports.

2007-11-08T21:38:00.000-05:00

If one disregards Canada's many glaring inferiorities, it seems that they have gotten something right.

"The ancient "Grease Trail" of the Carrier Indians, now known as the McKenzie Trail, lies immediately behind our camp, and is maintained by the government as a national park. Hiking enthusiasts and nature lovers can explore it in solitude for over 125 miles in either direction."

This is in British Columbia. I always assumed that British Columbia was, in brief, fucking useless. Hahaha! Come, socially conscious Canadians! Leap to the defense of your...province? Satrap? District? Whatever. For that matter, can you people even leap?

Pythons are not Friendly.

2007-11-06T23:48:00.000-05:00

They are not good pets. If you have babies, and a python, you are a King Hell Fool. I have no respect for snakes! I spit upon snake-handlers, snake-enthusiasts, and Germans! That is all, for now.

2007-11-03T19:59:00.001-04:00

Here is a strange thing. If you can talk Fanakalo, which is the language the South Africans invented so they could talk to their black (multi-tribal) mine workers, you can more or less always find someone to talk to, no matter where you go in Africa.

http://miningtechnology.wordpress.com/2007/02/05/speaking-fanakalo-in-the-mine/

I hope this information serves...someone...well, as it is of little use in my suburban home.

Today, unmitigated savagery. GRAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!

2007-11-03T16:57:00.000-04:00

It occurs to me that the best way (not, mind you, the most humane way) to kill a pig would be to strap said pig to a huge bomb, and slap it on the ham until it took a run at the enemies of freedom. There is precedent for this. The Russians trained dogs to find food under tanks, strapped dynamite to them, and then loosed them, starved, into armor battles. Karma then turned the dogs against the russians' own tanks. HAHAHAHAHAha. Pigs are known to be smarter than dogs. This is not fanciful thinking, this is Brute Science. No pig would mistake a friendly tank for an enemy one. Also, through extensive conversations with huge filthy pigs, I am convinced that they share the ideology of the American Conservative. The fact that both tend toward sweaty wattles is, the hogs assure me, coincidence.

Blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Also, feh.

2007-11-01T21:08:00.000-04:00

Okay, so here is a Thing that bothers me. I am forever sneezing in public, and I seldom, if ever, have a Good place to put my snot. I could carry a handkerchief, but then the snot would be in my pocket. Also, on my mustache. During the winter months, I am forever festooned with a gay assortment of snot-sicles. Disgusting, and thank you. No networking tip today, as I am not constant. I am, however, pretty consistently unconstant.

Here is a fat dog:
http://img.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2007/06_03/fatdogREX_228x322.jpg

He is not concerned by his girth, but is instead contentedly thinking about pig meat.

Here is High Culture:
http://www.yaaah.net/gallery.php

Farewell.

Rumplestilskin, chained to a plow.

2007-10-30T21:56:00.000-04:00

False Alarum. Instead of tackling the man-chewing horror of access list configuration in class today, we reviewed tcp/ip and related matters. Interesting, to be sure, but not electrifying.
I hope that this blog will be consistently helpful to other networking noobs. I didn't learn anything today that was meaty enough. Last week, however...we learned this handy command (in privileged mode):

router#show controllers (interface name/number)

I haven't waded through the output yet, but for a serial interface this command will tell you whether the interface is acting as DCE or DTE, and the clock rate(if DCE).

Also, never enter a chili cook-off with my girlfriend. She will hand your ass to you. I don't care if you are from Texas, Guadalajara, or even Chile. Trust me, friends. I speak from bitter experience.

Thank you, folks, for stopping by.

Grant it? Maybe...

2007-10-30T04:05:00.000-04:00

I can't fully explain this. Today was very strange, like a tomatillo. It tastes like everything, a little, but not enough like any one thing to truly...satisfy. Tomorrow, I will learn to configure access lists on Cisco routers. The instructor in my CCNA prep course has hyped this section of the course as the most difficult Thing That We Will Ever Do. However, I had to explain to him how to use tftpdnld from rommon mode a few weeks ago...so perhaps it will just be another cool class.

Incidentally, the router needs a list of parameters set in rommon mode to start tftpdnld...I can't remember what they are, but you're prompted for them. To set them, just type the name of the parameter (or variable), an equal sign, and the setting at the rommon prompt. E.g.:

rommon 1>IP_ADDRESS=192.168.15.4

You can display the variables you have set already with the command "set".