Friday, February 18, 2011
A random thing to know
Except for the Maxwell Montes mountain range, named for James Clerk Maxwell, all geographic features on the surface of the planet Venus are named after women (both fictional and historical). The reason for this is that the Maxwell Montes mountain range was the only feature large enough to be discernable through Venus' dense atmosphere using radio telescopes in the 1960's. It wasn't until the early 1990's that the Magellan space probe was able to provide detailed radio images of 98% of Venus's surface. Rather than labeling the more prominant features one-by-one as they were spotted (normally after their discoverers), nearly the entire surface of the planet was suddenly laid bare. As we eagerly mapped out the mountains and valleys of Venus, it seemed only fitting to give them feminine names.
Happy Nirvana Day
A little late, since it was on Tuesday. But I was too busy trying to acheive enlightenment and drinking margaritas to post. And yesterday I was too busy recovering. Still, even in the midst of my recovering, I was very pleased that I didn't feel like I was dying. Ever since going to Mexico and drinking way too much free tequilla (the fact that it was free should give you an idea of the quality), I haven't been able to stomach even the slightest amount without feeling wretched for days afterward. What really sucked about it is the fact that I like tequilla! But the good news is that after these many tequilla-free years I may have finally recovered. Just to be safe, I should continue experimenting until I'm sure.
I'm out of it tonight. Not sure why; I got a whole three hours of sleep last night somewhere around 7:00am. And I'm pretty sure I'd more or less recovered from my Margarita-fueled zen quest the previous night. May be it was the four glasses of assorted wines I drank before Max broke out the limes and salt. Everybody brought at least two bottles of wine that night, and wine tends to do to me weird things.
Speaking of drinking, today at the theatre I had to wake up a customer who's decided to take a nap on the floor, in the middle of the hallway. He was utterly smashed, and I had to help him up and take him to lie down on one of the benches while I explained to him where he was. After he had some water and regained some coherency he drifted back into his movie, and I warned the cleaning crew they might have to poke him awake again once the film was over.
I'm out of it tonight. Not sure why; I got a whole three hours of sleep last night somewhere around 7:00am. And I'm pretty sure I'd more or less recovered from my Margarita-fueled zen quest the previous night. May be it was the four glasses of assorted wines I drank before Max broke out the limes and salt. Everybody brought at least two bottles of wine that night, and wine tends to do to me weird things.
Speaking of drinking, today at the theatre I had to wake up a customer who's decided to take a nap on the floor, in the middle of the hallway. He was utterly smashed, and I had to help him up and take him to lie down on one of the benches while I explained to him where he was. After he had some water and regained some coherency he drifted back into his movie, and I warned the cleaning crew they might have to poke him awake again once the film was over.
Friday, February 11, 2011
The rebel forces refuse to surrender
I've had a lingering cold for the last week. I caught it from my roommate, but it wasn't really her fault. It was stupid of me to pull an all-nighter and leave my defenses in a weakened condition with all those hostile germs lying in wait. It probably didn't help that since I caught it I haven't gotten more than a few hours sleep per night, up until yestersday. And now in my frustration, I've started downing whatever random cold pills I can find in the medicine cabinet (not in unsafe doses of course). Yesterday I finished off some Dayquill and today I found some assorted decongestants. In practice I'm not much aof a fan of taking medicine for something as mundane as a mild cold, but I'm sick of being sick now and my sinuses are crazy messed up. C'mon immune system, hurry up and crush the rebel forces!
Hmm... Could viruses really be called rebels? They're more like invaders, but once they get into your system they start reblicating using your own cells as incubators. I think. It's been a long time since my last biology class. Eh, invading rebels, insurgeants maybe.
Clearly the cold pills are working their magic. Whether said magic is actually being utilized to do more than play checkers with my brain chemistry remains to be seen. That's right, you heard me. Checkers.
On that note, I'd like to take a moment to talk about gay robots. Not sex toys, but fully artificial and sentient robots that are also gay. The idea was brought up in the sweetly existential webcomic, Nine Planets Without Intelligent Life. (http://www.bohemiandrive.com/comics/npwil.htm) Itjust touched on it briefly as two female robots were forced to break it to the two male robot main characters. But it threw me a total loop as soon as I read it. Wait a second, these are totally upgradeable reprogrammable robots we're talking about here. Couldn't they just switch out for a different model? Or upgrade? I've mentioned before that I'm totally fine with homosexuality but I found myself thinking, well of course there's no more wrong with gay robots than with gay people, but since they have the option wouldn't they prefer to have parts that... er... fit together?
For them it's more than just an accident of programming: they are lady robots who love other lady robots and also like to love them as the lady robots they are. It's more than lilkely true that there are a lot of homosecuals out there who would leap at the chance to change their physical selves, and just as many unfortunate people who simply can't accept their sexual proclivity and would love to do a little reprogramming. But most of them are just fine with being a guy who's into other guys or a girl who's into other girls. Wait, I'm still just talking about robots, aren't I?
Hmm... Could viruses really be called rebels? They're more like invaders, but once they get into your system they start reblicating using your own cells as incubators. I think. It's been a long time since my last biology class. Eh, invading rebels, insurgeants maybe.
Clearly the cold pills are working their magic. Whether said magic is actually being utilized to do more than play checkers with my brain chemistry remains to be seen. That's right, you heard me. Checkers.
On that note, I'd like to take a moment to talk about gay robots. Not sex toys, but fully artificial and sentient robots that are also gay. The idea was brought up in the sweetly existential webcomic, Nine Planets Without Intelligent Life. (http://www.bohemiandrive.com/comics/npwil.htm) Itjust touched on it briefly as two female robots were forced to break it to the two male robot main characters. But it threw me a total loop as soon as I read it. Wait a second, these are totally upgradeable reprogrammable robots we're talking about here. Couldn't they just switch out for a different model? Or upgrade? I've mentioned before that I'm totally fine with homosexuality but I found myself thinking, well of course there's no more wrong with gay robots than with gay people, but since they have the option wouldn't they prefer to have parts that... er... fit together?
For them it's more than just an accident of programming: they are lady robots who love other lady robots and also like to love them as the lady robots they are. It's more than lilkely true that there are a lot of homosecuals out there who would leap at the chance to change their physical selves, and just as many unfortunate people who simply can't accept their sexual proclivity and would love to do a little reprogramming. But most of them are just fine with being a guy who's into other guys or a girl who's into other girls. Wait, I'm still just talking about robots, aren't I?
Thursday, February 10, 2011
The Golgotha
Words are awesome. Even more awesome than words are their etymologies. Tyrant was just the greek word for king until they went through a series of really terrible kings. The direct translation of nemesis is 'necessary end', so calling someone your nemesis is like saying they will be your end. I could go on. I have a massive 6" thick 1909 Webster's Dictionary that it's fun just to browse through sometimes. It even has words that were obsolete back in 1909. Most people wouldn't agree, but I find it all kinds of exciting.
I should write more about the etymology of words. So I will. Starting with Golgotha. It started out as a hebrew word meaning, the place of skulls. There is some confusion to its exact original meaning, but most agree that it refers to a place of death or of the dead, like execution grounds or a cemetary or charnel house. Essentially, places where you were likely to find a pile of skulls. Later in the 19th century it was used by English university students to refer to the room where the heads (skulls! get it?) of the university met to deal with disciplinary matters (a place of death!). By the 20th century it had become obsolete.
It sounds like something a secret society of illuminati would call themselves, meeting behind closed doors to decide who lives or dies and direct the course of human history.
I should write more about the etymology of words. So I will. Starting with Golgotha. It started out as a hebrew word meaning, the place of skulls. There is some confusion to its exact original meaning, but most agree that it refers to a place of death or of the dead, like execution grounds or a cemetary or charnel house. Essentially, places where you were likely to find a pile of skulls. Later in the 19th century it was used by English university students to refer to the room where the heads (skulls! get it?) of the university met to deal with disciplinary matters (a place of death!). By the 20th century it had become obsolete.
It sounds like something a secret society of illuminati would call themselves, meeting behind closed doors to decide who lives or dies and direct the course of human history.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Now I've done it
Well, it's done. After having been proofread and poured-over for the last two weeks, I finally submitted Underground Lecturehall. So it probably won't be finished on Burning Snowflakes, and if it's accepted I may take it down just in case. I'm going to have to find a better way of doing this, I think. I can't be continually posting stories only to take them down again once they're finished. It's too depressing. Burning Snowflakes may have to adhere to its title a little more closely and be composed of fragments rather than fully completed works.
Monday, February 7, 2011
The internet: supplying volatile chemicals to dangerous minds
My sulfuric acid came in the mail today!
Yes, it seems that in our wonderfully advanced world it's ridiculously easy to get dangerous chemicals. These days you can't just walk into a corner drug store and buy some plutonium, but apparently you can get it sent to your doorstep in 3-5 business days. No, I didn't order any plutonium or other radioactive materials, though it was both available and affordable! But as I proceded through the order process, I kept expecting to run into some kind of virtual barracade. Something requiring a license or credentials, or even an online form to which I would have to add my virtual signature promising not to throw my acid in the faces of others or conduct unsafe experiments. Nope. Well then, on to the unsafe experiments!
Actually I got it for cleaning purposes, but I know myself well enough that with a bottle of concentrated sulfuric acid at my disposal I don't expect to be able to suppress my curiosity for long. Hmm, what would happen if...
You know, it's probably a good thing that I didn't get any plutonium.
Yes, it seems that in our wonderfully advanced world it's ridiculously easy to get dangerous chemicals. These days you can't just walk into a corner drug store and buy some plutonium, but apparently you can get it sent to your doorstep in 3-5 business days. No, I didn't order any plutonium or other radioactive materials, though it was both available and affordable! But as I proceded through the order process, I kept expecting to run into some kind of virtual barracade. Something requiring a license or credentials, or even an online form to which I would have to add my virtual signature promising not to throw my acid in the faces of others or conduct unsafe experiments. Nope. Well then, on to the unsafe experiments!
Actually I got it for cleaning purposes, but I know myself well enough that with a bottle of concentrated sulfuric acid at my disposal I don't expect to be able to suppress my curiosity for long. Hmm, what would happen if...
You know, it's probably a good thing that I didn't get any plutonium.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
A Random Thing to Know
St Drogo is the patron saint of Coffee and Baristas. His ability to bilocate was frequently witnessed, being observed in two places at once, usually simultaneously at mass and working in the fields.
If I could bilocate, one me would sleep at night while the other me would stay up and read. No wait, both of me could stay up and read different books at the same time! Hmm... Bilegition? Bilegitation?
If I could bilocate, one me would sleep at night while the other me would stay up and read. No wait, both of me could stay up and read different books at the same time! Hmm... Bilegition? Bilegitation?
Creative solutions to life's little obstacles
Well, the plumber left and the Water Works guy showed up and replaced the meter thing. In doing so, he discovered that there was in fact a leak coming from the pipes as well. He wouldn't mess with it because of insurance reasons and the like. This is all hearsay from my roommate, since I was at work while all this was going on. When I got home and heard the story I asked him if he called the plumber back, he said he decided to wait until he told me. That night. Friday.
So until Monday when the plumber comes back we'll have a steady stream of water flowing from the pipe down into the insulation inside the wall. Creative solution time! 1 extra-long poster tube + several feet of duct tape = no more water in the walls. I'd say it was a MacGuyver moment, but he probably would found a way to fix the leak itself instead of just redirecting it out of the wall into a bucket (that has to be emptied every half-hour). Fortunately, it's past the main valve, so at least we can turn off the water when we don't need it.
Meanwhile I set to work fixing the vaccum cleaner. It was one of those Dirt Devil light weight types that breaks after a month or two of regular use. Thanks to the clear plastic composition it was easy to see where the problem was, and thanks to a complete lack of access it was impossible to get to it. However, after a careful inspection, I felt confident I knew which parts were important and which ones I could cut into with a hack saw. Ninety minutes (and 3 breaks to go empty the water bucket) later, I duct taped the sucker back together and started her up. To celebrate, I vaccumed.
With two duct tape themed victories under my belt, I felt a that just little bragging was acceptable.
So until Monday when the plumber comes back we'll have a steady stream of water flowing from the pipe down into the insulation inside the wall. Creative solution time! 1 extra-long poster tube + several feet of duct tape = no more water in the walls. I'd say it was a MacGuyver moment, but he probably would found a way to fix the leak itself instead of just redirecting it out of the wall into a bucket (that has to be emptied every half-hour). Fortunately, it's past the main valve, so at least we can turn off the water when we don't need it.
Meanwhile I set to work fixing the vaccum cleaner. It was one of those Dirt Devil light weight types that breaks after a month or two of regular use. Thanks to the clear plastic composition it was easy to see where the problem was, and thanks to a complete lack of access it was impossible to get to it. However, after a careful inspection, I felt confident I knew which parts were important and which ones I could cut into with a hack saw. Ninety minutes (and 3 breaks to go empty the water bucket) later, I duct taped the sucker back together and started her up. To celebrate, I vaccumed.
With two duct tape themed victories under my belt, I felt a that just little bragging was acceptable.
Friday, February 4, 2011
-32
It was some kind of record up here in the mountains. First time in 300-something years. Driving around at 3am Thursday morning, I learned that the thermometer in my car jams at -23 degrees. It's one of the things I love most about living in the mountains though, that there's so little humidity you barely notice how cold the air is. At least until you actually touch something with your bare hand and get frostbite within a few seconds.
Our pipes froze in spite of the little trickle of water I left on that night to keep it from happening. Inevitably, when they finally thawed there was a sudden spray of water through the splits caused by the expanding ice. On the bright side it was only the meter that burst, which meant Water Works came to fix it and we didn't have to pay a plumber. After four days, I'm just grateful to have water again. I'm dying for a shower, a shave, and some clean clothes. It was a miracle that we'd just run the dishwasher prior to the freeze, so at least we weren't breaking out the paper plates and plastic utensils.
Our pipes froze in spite of the little trickle of water I left on that night to keep it from happening. Inevitably, when they finally thawed there was a sudden spray of water through the splits caused by the expanding ice. On the bright side it was only the meter that burst, which meant Water Works came to fix it and we didn't have to pay a plumber. After four days, I'm just grateful to have water again. I'm dying for a shower, a shave, and some clean clothes. It was a miracle that we'd just run the dishwasher prior to the freeze, so at least we weren't breaking out the paper plates and plastic utensils.
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