bringCatHome.exe fails to compile. FURBALL where are you, it is cold out there and also on my lap.

i r querying ur endgame tablebase

PRE-CHECKMATING UR KING

it starts late in the afternoon with google news linking to a story on slashdot. the slashdot article has an interesting discussion. one of the posters has a sig linking to xkcd, reminding me i haven't had my xkcd fix in a while. during my time there i check the blag, and engorge myself in one particularly stimulating exploration of ludicrously large numbers

at this point my memory becomes slightly fuzzy

and suddenly it's like a quarter to five the following morning and i'm in my underwear with my old college texts out and i'm scribbling notes about exponential towers and *omorphisms whilst humming 'woman in love.' the internet is a gateway to the darkness waiting deep inside.

occasionally i'll look sequentially at carefully patterned ink on piles of paper held together with glue at one common edge. occasionally i'll shine a laser onto spinning plastic and metal disks and turn the reflection into sound and hear it.

whenever i do either i create some sort of meaning from the sensory input.

occasionally i'll do both simultaneously and the meaning gets all tangled in my head so that later when i encounter the patterns of one i'll inevitably recall the other without regard for its relevance at that particular time.


i have brilliant examples, roughly sorted by date read:

jurassic park: jon secada
2001 series: lost world soundtrack
the rama series: u2
the stand: nirvana
1984: the cranberries
atonement: fischerspooner
the dark tower series: in various places, out of africa soundtrack, future sound of london, beck, bad company (who make an important thematic cameo in book seven, not to give anything away), moby


and the input is not necessarily linked to books and music. it could as easily be location and music, and often is, viz.:

my honeymoon: muse
the dormitory in which i spent my fourth year of college: audioslave
the shitty basement apartment where i spent the first third of my fifth: the flaming lips
the road: always beck, always to the dismay of my wife



since i have you here, i feel the need to direct your attention to the most powerful weapon in my geek arsenal. oh how i love to analyze data, and, in the process, to be analyzed.

so i had this usb flash memory stick. yup, had, dig? ist kaput.

the only really important stuff on it was about (fifty? a hundred?) hours' work on that pesky webcomic that continually occupies my quiet-time thoughts. every once in a while, i'd get a fantastic idea for thus-and-such, plug it into whatever workstation i was currently employing, jot it down, unplug it. and sadly the last time i copied anything from it was, roughly, summer.

balls; i'm not generally good at dealing with my own stupidity, especially when it could have been so easily avoided.

anyone know someone who knows someone?

does this place look different in safari? compared to, say, yesterday?

it's important you tell me. tell me.

and i quote (er, copy and paste):

"harry potter" disk error -ebay -amazon -ea -xbox -leaky -quotes -copying -ps2

whatever you were searching for, guy from tennessee, i doubt you'll ever, ever find it.


a long talk with my sister ended well when i pawned off a men's underwear catalogue that had no business in our house. reason insists that she will throw it away, but that's not the point. the point was in the fighting over the scantily clad men.

that's right, search engines, i did say SCANTILY CLAD MEN. and sister if i catch you reading this via a search engine, i'm telling mom.

p.s. BRITNEY SPEARS NAKED ONLINE POKER CïA|iS V!ÄGR@ !!!