No doubt.

It's pretty rare any more that I'm playing a video game. But it would usually mean that it was too late at night or the weather sucked.

When I'm watching pr0n, I wish I was with a woman. When I'm playing video games, I wish I was outside doing something.

TAKE 1

Director: That was good, but let's get another, just to be sure.

TAKE 2

Director: Yeah.... Not bad. I'm just not sure that we're really nailing this. Let's try another angle....

TAKE 3

Director: Cut and pri-

Director of Photography: We could see him breathing.

Director: Oh fer fuck... alright let's try again. (to actor:) You know we hired you just for this, right?

TAKE 4

Director [reviewing tape]: Yeah, I see it. (to actor:) You blinked. You know dead people generally don't blink, right? Right?!?

TAKE 5

Special Effects Coordinator: No, look, all I'm saying is it would cost less just to corset him so his ribs can't move than it would to CGI out the breathing. The risk of asphyxiation is minimal, and anyway, the insurance is still less than green-screening him.

[...]

TAKE 14

Director: Yeah, I fucking get it that you're tired and can't breathe. Now why don't you tell that to to those 14 teamsters over there who have been waiting SIX FUCKING HOURS for you to get one fucking scene right? Still tired, hotshot? Good, now get to your fucking first position.

[...]

TAKE 34

Director: Finally! Print that, it's fucking magic! Perfectly lifeless. Look at that part—right there—see that? A fucking fly walks right across his eyeball. Kid, that was fucking amazi- kid? You okay? Oh for fuck sakes. We lost another. Propsmaster! Get this body off my set. And can somebody please tell me why we can't just fucking offshore these parts?

'Allo? Polizei? Ve bin finden der... four... five... six... er, FOUR hundred kilos von der cocaine!'

Sometimes you need to be prepared to move to a new career. I've been working on purchasing rental properties (one down, next one should be in about a year). I want to be in the same position as some of my friends: working because the work is interesting, not because the bills are due.

Amen to that. Somebody looking for the 23 year old who will work through the weekend regularly, or thinks 11 hour days should be the norm, isn't going to be very happy working with me. Because there's a simple calculus: money is just a means to an end, and that end is a warm bed with my wife in it. What are they going to offer that's more compelling than my goal?

Sounds like important warnings were heeded there. If they can't afford a second PC, they can't afford my salary, so I'd be good with not landing there.

That's a perfectly legitimate requirement, and if you don't do those things, you'll be an antiquated fossil anyway. I've got grand kids and I meet that qualification.

I'm sure that will be very helpful for running my vehicle information system. Harvesters love offloading their real time data gathering to EC2 instances.

When you've been Digital Resident longer than many of these so-called Digital Natives have been alive, it's hard to take the term very seriously.

It's also easy to imagine how a 50-something might bridle under the 'tutelage' of a 25 year old. There's a lot to be said for a society that rewards innovation and youthful energy, but that doesn't mean there's no longer any reason whatsoever to venerate our elders. And I, for one, would not hesitate to remind any youngster of that, should circumstances require.

But it's true that we oldsters shouldn't just assume that we deserve respect by default. Not at all. I should earn it, by reminding these callow youths that hipster used to actually mean something, and that I knew Mick Jagger back when he wrote music, and not only did I have an Apple ][, but I rebuilt it on Saturdays just for fun, and that was a time when cars had exhaust and tires actually squealed, and the TV had channels, and a real man earned his stripes by dismantling one of those cathode ray tubes without dying in the explosion. And THAT was being a geek back then, so fuck you, you sniveling little runt, go climb back up your mother's vagina for a few more years until you're ready for this world. Fuck.

Or something like that. :-)

Wait no more!

The article states that the analysts have identified 8,867 infected IP addresses. In April 2014, Netcraft confirmed that there were roughly 958,919,789 sites on the web at that time. Independently of them, W3Techs state that nearly 68% of servers are running some form of Unix, and the vast majority of those can be safely assumed to be running Linux.

So let's say, then, that better than half a billion sites are potentially vulnerable to this exploit, but in practical terms, over the course of years, a mere 8,867 of them actually were infected by this exploit. That means that, uh... carry the 9... somewhere around, oh... 0.0017734% of all vulnerable Linux sites have been compromised by a hitherto unknown and unmitigated active exploit.

Clearly this debacle is indisputable proof that Linux security is a shambolic, shameful charade that needs to be stopped before the world collapses into chaos.

The book Woodworking With Your Kids http://www.amazon.com/Woodwork... has a misleading title. The kids in question are actually kids in his community and his school. The author set up a community and school workshop back in 1970 on a shoestring budget. He was teaching kids to make some pretty impressive furniture before they were old enough to drive.

We have additional tools now, but the same approach to setting up a maker space would still work.

My workshop isn't for socialization at all. It's my space. Just mine. Occasionally my wife sticks her head in. Mostly it's me, the cats, and a lot of wood shavings.

Amen. The thing holding people back from making things isn't usually lack of access to equipment, but lack of access to the knowledge.