I have to share this. picture. My place in the food chain is suffering from cognitive dissonance.

263144 = 2 ^3 * 7 *37 * 127

You're welcome.

so... i've gotten mod points eight times this past month, after not having any since ~august 2004. (i emailed myself a few times because i got them once a week for a bit, and i wanted to see if it was related to day of week). i have not noticed any variations in the frequency with which i visit slashdot, except that maybe since the weather has turned for the warmer (northern hemisphere) i'm out more evenings...
theories, etc?

I own this one:

C1 12 8D 0F 68 31 D3 0E 25 0B 88 CF 1E E2 AB 86

explanation: tomhudson pointed this out to me
http://www.freedom-to-tinker.com/?p=1155
Get yours NOW!!!! Before the MPAA takes them all.

Now that I have your attention.

You would think that after all this time he would remember to Log OUT after being in session at my house but no, I go to log into my computer and there I am, HTTP. now as interesting and 'Freaky Friday vs. Strange Days' as it is to be HTTP for a day it is getting so much more difficult for a poor tortured soul such as mine to resist such temptations these opportune moments bring.

Especially since his sig. file is just sitting over there------------------------------------------->
MOCKING me. Actually calling out lamentations of wanting to be freed from its bonds, how it wants to be something more forward, more eye stopping, more mighty, more....!

"Heart-stopping?" I offer back to it.

"Yeah, something BRAVE!" it weeps back from its chained existence.

Oh I feel for it... just over there------------------------>
*yearning* to be something heart-stopping.

"How about 'DEBIAN IS FOR WIMPS...WINDOWS M.E. IS GOD!!!!!!!!!" I venture.

Even in its little tortured bonds it wriggles with excitement "with *nine* exclamation marks??" it can hardly contain its joy.

"Yes! More if you want them, even a whole paragraph more!" this sig. file, wriggling with joy, is only six inches away from where im typing. I can feel its yearning; I can feel its excitement.
Over there------------------------------------------------->

  AIEEEEEEEEEEEE!!

It's not fair. HTTP is tempting me, it's like he has set the whole thing up as an evil plot, snakelike, to get me ousted from Eden. (Ever notice the snake didn't get ousted?) I am trying to be good. But the temptation is getting greater and greater EACH TIME he does this... *Grrr*... this time I think I *will* resist.

I hear a small *weeping* 'noooooooo!!!' from about six inches over there------------------------------------>

THAT'S RIGHT MR MAN! I am NOT falling for your *EVIL* plot of destruction THIS TIME. Your EVIL TEMPTATIVE SLASHDOTIAN WILES have only *dented* the morally good 'it's the right thing to do' Wellford Brimlian armour im wearing today.
*HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA*

Aieeeeeee.

Perhaps I will still change his homepage to 'special offers' and sign him up for a few hundred newsletters on 'pricegrabber' while I'm here.... hey I said I was *trying* to be good, I'm not saying I'm successful 100% of the time. *GRIN*.

-magdalene-

i recently read an introduction to the i ching by carl jung, so the workableness of this meme won out over the oddness of the methodology. (in plainer english, this looked so wild that i had to try it):

You put your itunes (or musicmatch, or winamp, etc) playlist on random, and ask one of the questions below. when you hit play, the song that comes up has your answer. sometimes you have to think about it a bit to figure it out, but it works 99.9% of the time. no cheating!"

these are my results:

1: how am i feeling today?
- the barbarian, by emerson, lake and palmer

2: what does my computer think of me?
- antarctica, by men without hats

3: how far will i go in life?
- garlands, by cocteau twins

4: will i have a happy life?
- face up, by new order

5: what do my friends really think of me?
- 5 8 6, by new order

6: what do strangers secretly think of me?
- tommy the cat, by primus

7: do my friends secretly lust after me?
- smooth operator, by sade

8: how can i make myself happy?
- view from the outside, by the lucy show

9: where will i get married?
- kooks, by david bowie

10: what is my best friend's theme song?
- tales of the future, by vangelis (bladerunner soundtrack)

11: what should i do with my life?
- burn, by the cure

12: why must life be so full of pain?
- (like a) sun rising through my garden, by matt johnson

13: what is the story of my life?
- do the empty house, by the comsat angels

14: what was high school like?
- lukey's boat, by great big sea

15: what is the best thing about me?
- musette & drums, by cocteau twins

16: how can i maximize my pleasure during sex?
- theme for great cities, by simple minds

17: will i ever have children?
- autosuggestion, by joy division

18: will i die happy?
- telegraph, by orchestral manouevers in the dark

19: can you give me some advice?
- muscle for brains, by gang of four

20: what is my best trait?
- stuck in the rain, by the payolas

21: what do you think happiness is?
- ivo, by cocteau twins

22: what's my favorite fetish?
- bread and wine, by peter gabriel

23: how does the world see me?
- time again for the golden sunset, by the the

24: how will i be remembered?
- troy, by sinead o'connor

25: are people secretly after me?
- passover, by joy division

26: what is my signature dancing song?
- alive and kicking, by simple minds

27: what do i think is my current theme song?
- architecture and morality, by orchestral manouevers in the dark

28: what do others think is my current theme song?
- scissors and the stone, by the comsat angels

29: what song will play at my funeral?
- if music could talk, by the clash

30: what song describes my parents?
- wolf in the breast, by cocteau twins

31: what song describes my grandparents?
- every little thing she does is magic, by the police

32: what type of women do i like?
- kind of a drag, by the buckinghams

33: what is my day going to be like?
- indiscipline, by king crimson

34: what is the weekend going to be like?
- disturbed, by peter gabriel

35: how is my life going?
- treason, by the teardrop explodes

36: what will be written on my tombstone?
- pictures at an exhibitions, by mussorgsky

just brilliant. `5 8 6'. that one made me crack up. PERFECT. plus, you get random sample of today's playlist.

I originally found this at http://www.mltranslations.org/Miscellaneous/RobesonSPP.htm and am taking a cue from PK.

Thoughts on Winning the Stalin Peace Prize
By Paul Robeson

"Here's My Story,"
Freedom,
January 1953

Many friends have asked me how it feels to have received one of the International Stalin Prizes' "for strengthening peace among peoples." Usually I say-as most prize winners do- "It's a great honor." But of course, this award deserves more than just passing acknowledgment.

Through the years I have received my share of recognition for efforts in the fields of sports, the arts, the struggle for full citizenship for the Negro people, labor's rights and the fight for peace. No single award, however, involved so many people or such grave issues as this one.

The prize is truly an international award. The committee of judges includes the Soviet academician, D. V. Skobeltsyn, president; vicepresidents Kuo Mo-djo of China and Louis Aragon of France; and the following members: Martin Anderson Nexo, the greatest modern Danish humanist; John Bernal of England; Pablo Neruda of Chile, one of the world's greatest poets; Jan Demborsky of Poland; Michael Sadovyany of Roumania; and A. A. Fadyeev, a leading Soviet novelist.

And the prize winners include outstanding figures from many lands. It is a matter of pride to share the award with such distinguished leaders as Yves Farge of France; Sayfuddin Kichloo, spokesman for the All-Indian Congress of Peace; Eliza Branco, a leader of the Fedn. of Brazilian Women; Johannes Becher, one of the foremost writers of the German Democratic Republic; Rev. James Endicott, fearless Canadian minister and fighter for peace, and Ilya Ehrenberg, the leading Soviet novelist and journalist.

Most important, it must be clear that I cannot accept this award in a personal way. In the words of an editorial written by A. A. Fadyeev in Pravda: "The names of the laureates of the International Stalin Prizes are again witnesses to the fact that the movement for peace is continuously growing, broadening and strengthening. In the ranks of the active fighters against the threat of war, new millions of people of every race and nationality are taking their place, people of the most widely differing political and religious convictions.... The awards to Eliza Branco and Paul Robeson reflect the important historical fact that broader and broader sections of the masses of the Western Hemisphere are rising to struggle for freedom and independence, for peace and progress; peoples that endure the full weight of the attempts of imperialist reaction to strangle the movement of the masses against a new pillaging war, being prepared by American billionaires and millionaires."

I accept the award, therefore, in the name and on behalf of these new millions who are moving into the organized fight for peace in our hemisphere and especially in the United States.

One of the most decisive steps in the development of the peace movement in our country was taken in connection with the Peking and Vienna Congresses of Peace.

The American Peace movement reached out its hands across the borders to join with the millions of peace fighters in the world peace movement. Gradually it has become crystal clear that the mighty strength of the world movement representing peoples of all lands is strength for us here. As Americans, preserving the best of our traditions, we have the right- nay the duty-to fight for participation in the forward march of humanity.

We must join with the tens of millions all over the world who see in peace our most sacred responsibility. Once we are joined together in the fight for peace we will have to talk to each other and tell the truth about each other. How else can peace be won?

I have always insisted-and will insist, even more in the future on my right to tell the truth as I know it about the Soviet peoples: of their deep desires and hopes for peace, of their peaceful pursuits of reconstruction from the ravages of war,. as in historic Stalingrad; and to tell of the heroic efforts of the friendly peoples in Poland, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Albania, Romania, Bulgaria, great, new China and North Korea-to explain, to answer the endless falsehoods of the warmongering press with clarity and courage.

In this framework we can make clear what co-existence means. It means living in peace and friendship with another kind of society-a fully integrated society where the people control their destinies, where poverty and illiteracy have been eliminated and where new kinds of human beings develop in the framework of a new level of social living.

The telling of these truths is an important part of our work in building a strong and broad peace movement in the United States.

Like any other people, like fathers, mothers, sons and daughters in every land, when the issue of peace or war has been put squarely to the American people, they have registered for peace. Whatever the confusions, however great the hysteria, millions voted for the Stockholm petition, millions more wanted to. At every step the vast majority have expressed horror at the idea of an aggressive war.

In fact, because of this deep desire for peace, the ruling class leaders of this land, from 1945 on, stepped up the hysteria and propaganda to drive into American minds the false notion that danger threatened them from the East. This propaganda began before the blood of precious human beings stopped flowing in the mighty struggle against fascism.

I, myself, was in Europe in 1945, singing to the troops. And already one heard rumblings of the necessity of America's preparing for war against the Soviet Union, our gallant ally. And at home in the United States we found continued and increased persecution, first of leaders of the Communist Party, and then of all honest anti-fascists.

But the deep desire for peace remained with the American people. Wallace was hailed by vast throngs when he resigned from Truman's cabinet in protest against the war-mongering of the then Secretary of State James Byrnes, now the Negro-hating governor of South Carolina. Seven to eight million peace lovers put Wallace on the ballot in almost all of the 48 states in 1948. The cry for peace forced Truman to take over (demogogically, of course) the Progressive Party platform. In addition he hinted he would send Vinson, one of his trusted lieutenants, to Moscow, to talk peace.

We know how Truman betrayed the American people in their hopes for peace, how he betrayed the Negro people in their thirst for equal rights, how he tore up the Bill of Rights and subjected the whole American people to a reign of FBI-terrorization.

The Korean war has always been an unpopular war among the American people. We remember the unforgivable trickery in the use of the United Nations to further the purposes of "American century" imperialists in that land-quite comparable to the taking of Texas from Mexico, the rape of Cuba, the Philippines, Puerto Rico and Hawaii. At one point American peace sentiment helped to stop Truman from pursuing use of the atom bomb in Korea and helped force the recall of MacArthur.

Yet in 1952 the American people again allowed themselves to be taken in-this time by Eisenhower. He, too, promised in the campaign to do all he could to end the Korean slaughter. The vote shows that millions of American believed him. But already he has betrayed their trust and moves as fast as possible toward an extension of the war. There are real threats of attempting to support France on a major scale in Indo-China. All this comes as no surprise if one looks at those who guide him-Dulles, one of the architects of the whole Far Eastern policy; Dewey, the man so feared in 1948, and certainly unchanged, and the whole array of American Big Business at its worst.

All these factors become increasingly clear to great sections of the American people and certainly present a tremendous challenge to the peace forces in this land. If we move swiftly, correctly, courageously, a mighty united front of the people can be built for peace. The latent but growing sentiment can be harnessed, organized.

I am especially confident that the Negro people can be won for the fight for peace. Having voted mainly for Stevenson, they have little to expect from Eisenhower, especially an Eisenhower partly dependent upon the Dixiecrat South-sworn enemies of the Negro people. We know that war would mean an end to our struggle for civil rights, FEPC, the right to vote, an anti-lynching law, abolition of segregation.

And today the Negro people watch Africa and Asia and closely follow the liberation struggles of the rising peoples in these lands. We watch the United Nations and see the U.S.A. join with the western imperialist nations to stifle the liberation struggles. We cannot help but see that it is Vishinsky and the spokesman of the Eastern European Peoples Democracies who defend and vote for the interests of the African and Asian peoples.

I know that if the peace movement takes its message boldly to the Negro people a powerful force can be secured in pursuit of the greatest goal of all mankind. And the same is true of labor and the great democratic sections of our population.

Yes, peace can and must be won, to save the world from the terrible destruction of World War III. The prize which I have just received will spur me on to greater efforts than ever before to serve the cause of peace and to aid in building a triumphant peace movement in the United States.

here it is 130 am and i go to my slashdot and whats this? im http. .....

where on earth is that sig file....

lesse..

you linux geeks are all hacks.. windows is the only one TRUE OS.... bend down to its supreme power you wimps!

posted to about every article in the linux and developers sections with:

-Windows ME the only *true* OS sooner or later you will all get it when you smarten up,stop being idiots and grab a clue!

as his sig? what do you think tom?

*GRIN*

______________________________________

M&M

there are 10 kinds of people in this world, those who read binary and those who don't.

well, whoops serves me right for not clicking on "Public Terminal" when i logged in. i'm just glad M didn't change my sig to something like "Windows is still better than your toy OS" or something more heinous.
and hey, it takes an hour to get there - an hour without slashdot! the horror! the horrrorrrr! maybe it would be tolerable if i was able to take traffic as lightly as a video game.
too bad you mananged yet again to not logout... nice suggestion tho.. imight just take it this time... *insert evil cackle here* -magdalene

the odd thing about having a geek friend come over to your house to geek out with you is that they always come and sit down at your computer and they ALWAYS have to log in and check what is going on on /. or check email, or solve some computer problem you may have been wrestling with, or end world hunger with a cunning bit of cgi, or better yet, C++ or perl. and no matter how many times it happens the next time I sit down at my computer there it is my journal, and I admit, I havent been around for a while but i was halfway finished typing an entry before I realized that this wasnt even my journal. ... no one ever logs out. I do it, too. so this time Im going to post here and perhaps next time he will remember to log back out of his page or call me when he sees this to ask me politely to do so for him. *GRIN*.... Magdalene

As initiated by helicobacter.

Event 1

1693 - The College of William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia is granted a charter by King William III and Queen Mary II.

Event 2

1879 - Sandford Fleming first proposes adoption of Universal Standard Time at a meeting of the Royal Canadian Institute.

Event 3

1960 - Queen Elizabeth II of the United Kingdom issued an Order-in-Council, stating that she and her family would be known as the House of Windsor, and that her descendants will take the name "Mountbatten-Windsor".

Birth 1

412 - Proclus, Greek philosopher (d. 487)

Birth 2

1834 - Dmitri Mendeleev, Russian chemist (d. 1907)

Death

1957 - John von Neumann, Hungarian-born mathematician and physicist (b. 1903)

Brief rundown:
Drive has its partition table written 'backwards', as (and this is from memory)
partition start end size
hda2: 247 17309 80448
hda1: ..1 ..246 1998
the bios boots from hda1 (in windows) but goes to GREAT lengths to conceal that partition from every tool in windows, and give the impression that you've booted from hda2 and that's the only thing that's on the hard drive. It included, as near as I can tell, an irc client, a webserver and an ftp drop box that hides quite well from task manager. But nothing hides from a trusted GNU/Linux installation CD! Managed to tarball the contents of the secret partition for later study, but after I and my bestfriend Windows tech lost four days fucking with it, she finally said, "Nuke it from orbit, it's the only way to be sure."
She also came up with an interesting theory or two. The machine was bought (by her mother) as a demo model, and may have been a refurbished return. The original purchaser installed the root kit and returned it, to use the next unsuspecting granny's bandwidth to serve up kiddie porn. Alternately, a Staples tech or sales agent had installed it for the same reason. Yes, that truly unethical, but I mean, for $8.00 an hour, can you blame them much?

Any thoughts on this, or knowledge?

Well, no pony or kestrel yet, but Ryefield is up and at 'em.
His 'cognitive functioning level' is about that of a four year old kid, but this is someone with the experiences of an adult. It's an odd mix of comprehension and incomprehension. Anomia is the order of the day, as is silliness. Masha said last night, "You know how sometimes you're drinking tequila and it's three am and you're just being silly? He's like that _all_ _the_ _time_". Hence the subject line.
His short term memory seems to be getting better, and his attention span...is spotty. His balance is getting good enough to scare me (and the nurses), because he doesn't quite get that his balance is still atrocious. He goes NOWHERE unattended. I've been out to see him every afternoon but one and have started colouring in `PATIENCE IS A VIRTUE' at hte rate of one letter per day. Routines build amid reactions.
The doctor says that it's very likely that he will recover "80%" (whatever that means) over the space of two years, and that typical recovery from TBI does not follow a linear progression. What really astonishes me is how little he is upset by his inability to communicate reliably. All the literature we've read has indicated that tantrums and aggression are a normal part of the process. For once, a blessing to be at the far end of a bell curve. But then, he's always be a preternaturallly gentle person.
His mom is no longer staying with us, she rented another place with a simpler set of travel difficulties.
Today he made a telephone call to an old girlfriend; she told him she had come to the Island to visit him while he was in a coma. He was astonished, and I think he finally got it then that yes, this is really an unusual situation he's in, and no, we're not just making it up. His attention span got really long, after that, and was just brimming with question after question about how he came to be in the Neurology Ward of the hospital. One thing that he said that made me feel like maybe what I'm doing is worth it was "Well, I'm lucky to be surrounded by good people, then." I just hope he doesn't get too scared. We family and friends have already been through all kinds of scared already, so could we pass on yet another subtle variation?
And while I'm at it, "...and a pony."

So after spending the morning with my doctor and the library and a government clerk that regularly loses paperwork, I went out to Victoria General Hospital Intensive Care Unit. Part of the drill involves washing your hands. I washed my face too, because sometimes I rub my eyes (or my nose when it itches) and I forget.

I step into the room and the nurse greets me and leaves the room. To see Ry lying there so still I'm kind of shakey. At least the bruising on his face has faded, I stood at the bedside for a bit, and then said "Hello" kind of quietly. He opened one eye, looked over at me and said "Peter" and raised his hand up. He's been in restraints to prevent him from pulling out the various hoses, tubes, valves, and radiator. But I reach over my hand and he grabs it and he closes his eye and he seizes my hand. For the next while, stillness is not a major part of the description. For someone so active to be brought to a halt, his muscles must be twitching for lack of exercise.

I managed to not scream with happiness. I spend the next while babbling stuff like "wake up and pay attention, they've got cool shiny things here" (because Ry's a technophile) and, well, babble. I don't expect any response, because mainly I'm talking for my benefit, not his.

Then I asked "Is there something I could do to make you more comfortable", looked around a bit, and asked "Is it too bright in here?" which got a slow, laboured "yes".

I spend the next while trying to figure out which picture at the foot of his bed he was trying to point at, or maybe he was trying to point at an itchy toe. We then spent some time figuring out he wanted help sitting up. Oh, such a struggle that was! And what a reward when I figured it out. I'm so accustomed to communication with words. Your ability to read this journal entry (or have someone read it to you) is probably the second most powerful tool you have. I called over the nurse to vet the idea of sitting up, and she aided me.

His girlfriend returned, and we started entertaining him in stereo, and occasionally talking about him in the third person. It's hard not to, since Saturday so much conversation outside the hospital has been about Ry. We managed to get his hand on the bed's up/down foot/head controls, which may not have been a great idea...he's p[robably going to burn out the motors on htose things if he can figure out how to reach it on his own. A lot of ltime seems to be waiting for Ry to gather energy. It seems like every effort you or I would consider minor is exhausting.

So my friend is out of a coma. There's so much more going on, but this is the sum and substance of it: I've got confirmed

• hearing
• facial recognition
• language
• speech
• touch
• motor control (not very co-ordinated, that could be the powerful drugs he's on)
• sight

To have such rapid regaining of faculties! Mirari. And just yesterday I was cautioning myself not to expect better news every day. Still have much further to go, and if there is a block on full recovery I hope I remember to be grateful for what the universe has provided.

While we're at it, can I have a pony^Wkestrel?

tribe blog

So after spending the morning with my doctor and the library and a government clerk that regularly loses paperwork, I went out to Victoria General Hospital Intensive Care Unit. Part of the drill involves washing your hands. I washed my face too, because sometimes I rub my eyes (or my nose when it itches) and I forget.

I step into the room and the nurse greets me and leaves the room. To see Ry lying there so still I'm kind of shakey. At least the bruising on his face has faded, I stood at the bedside for a bit, and then said "Hello" kind of quietly. He opened one eye, looked over at me and said "Peter" and raised his hand up. He's been in restraints to prevent him from pulling out the various hoses, tubes, valves, and radiator. But I reach over my hand and he grabs it and he closes his eye and he seizes my hand. For the next while, stillness is not a major part of the description. For someone so active to be brought to a halt, his muscles must be twitching for lack of exercise.

I managed to not scream with happiness. I spend the next while babbling stuff like "wake up and pay attention, they've got cool shiny things here" (because Ry's a technophile) and, well, babble. I don't expect any response, because mainly I'm talking for my benefit, not his.

Then I asked "Is there something I could do to make you more comfortable", looked around a bit, and asked "Is it too bright in here?" which got a slow, laboured "yes".

I spend the next while trying to figure out which picture at the foot of his bed he was trying to point at, or maybe he was trying to point at an itchy toe. We then spent some time figuring out he wanted help sitting up. Oh, such a struggle that was! And what a reward when I figured it out. I'm so accustomed to communication with words. Your ability to read this journal entry (or have someone read it to you) is probably the second most powerful tool you have. I called over the nurse to vet the idea of sitting up, and she aided me.

His girlfriend returned, and we started entertaining him in stereo, and occasionally talking about him in the third person. It's hard not to, since Saturday so much conversation outside the hospital has been about Ry. We managed to get his hand on the bed's up/down foot/head controls, which may not have been a great idea...he's p[robably going to burn out the motors on htose things if he can figure out how to reach it on his own. A lot of ltime seems to be waiting for Ry to gather energy. It seems like every effort you or I would consider minor is exhausting.

So my friend is out of a coma. There's so much more going on, but this is the sum and substance of it: I've got confirmed

• hearing
• facial recognition
• language
• speech
• touch
• motor control (not very co-ordinated, that could be the powerful drugs he's on)
• sight

To have such rapid regaining of faculties! Mirari. And just yesterday I was cautioning myself not to expect better news every day. Still have much further to go, and if there is a block on full recovery I hope I remember to be grateful for what the universe has provided.

While we're at it, can I have a pony^Wkestrel?

tribe blog