Wednesday, April 23, 2008

The science of tomorrow is literally happening tomorrow.

A serious question.

What if you could manufacture a real, living dragon. I mean what if you had the technology to print in three dimensions, molecule-by-molecule. Computer numerically control the print head so materials and reactions occur at the right place and right time. Then press the green button and spark life.

We're already printing living bacteria. As in, scientists warily agree that the output of these manufacturing systems are verifiably alive critters. Next is rats and plants, then people, then custom creatures. Of course there are technical and moral dilemmas; I think they will be overcome in short time.

With enough dollars and lawyers, I think you could get a real dragon out. Or a chain gang of siamese twin rock stars. Or a billion other things that weren't on the Ark.

And eventually we'll have one machine tell the other not to feed him. They'll only want more. They'll only want more.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Everything's polarized to hell.

If Edwin Land had a facebook account, he would wall you to get off of there and get on with two thousand eight.

Monday, April 21, 2008

This was organic; this is devolved.

I never go looking for beauty anymore.
I never scream what's going on.

I want enough skyscrapers to block out the sun.
I want to wake up choked and deprived.

I see a blanket of dirty permanence.
I see the future as tax class gray.

Saturday, April 19, 2008

The boys at Kittyhawk used to ride bikes.

Those wright brothers really had a thing going.
The purpose was to control flight and they did it.

Viceroy! he'd yell down.
Passenger! he'd yell up.

My god ... I'm actually flying he thought.
A ripple of wind ripped through them.
My god ... he's ... actually ... flying ... he thought.

That night Mom made pork beans, fritters and slaw.
The boys couldn't stop chattering through their food.
There were no manners that night.

This was going to be big. Like, really big.
They stayed up all night thinking of all the things they thought of.

Now fast forward to two-thousand and eight where birds are citadels.
You, reader, think of all the things they could never imagine.

You can ship a hundred and thirty seven thousand tons in one airplane.
And park it on a dime through every axis you know.

Buckle up, she'd yell down.
Little bags, in case they throw up.

Turbines, taxiing, turbulence.
Gates A through Z and back again.
Buckle your safety belts please; don't smoke when the warning light's on.

I wonder if the boys at kitty hawk just rode bikes down to the dunes
and knew what the other was thinking.

Their mouths full of sandwich about the mile high club.

Friday, April 18, 2008

Your mom's a cat shelter!

Thursday, April 17, 2008

There's a band coming to town to play a concert.
They won't let you take pictures of the event, but that's their prerogative.

Bands hire media managers to deal with this type of thing.
No photos, no videos, no sound recordings. Pat downs, the nine yards.

Of course the first thing that comes to mind is how do they cameras in cell phones.
Best guess is they don't do anything to stop them. Fine, litter YouTube with that stuff.

I'm told only two persons are allowed to take photographs "in front of the fence" at this particular show. One from the news paper, the other from the organization arranging the concert. I was trying to get a press pass but both these holes are taken.

It gets a bit more interesting: they are only allowed to photograph for the first three songs. "After that, the cameras have to be put away." I'm guessing this is because they will be opening with some old-time favorites and playing some new never-before-heard content afterward.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

It's good.

Hail to the Geek - Deaf Pedestrians

Monday, April 14, 2008

I don't mean to marginalize the rest of you.

As far as "religion" is concerned, Scientology and Rick Rolling are about on par in that they're helter-skelter, complete B.S., and you shall not give them even one second's consideration.

A chum-filled shipping container sits in a warehouse overnight.

Right now, a clam-shelled-oyster at 39 meters below on a Chinese shoal is waiting to be dredged out, dumped in a hopper, and ground up.

I can't express to you how immediately or how violently I would vomit if I tasted got anywhere near this adult beverage.

Saturday, April 12, 2008


I try not to use caps, at least when I'm posting something on a public medium.

But this is important.

I was in a computer lab today and I watched a person in the row ahead of me deliberately click on a banner ad. As in, not clicking it as a joke--not like, "haha dude look at this dumb ad. punch the nun haha." This person is days away from completing his or her degree and being released into the workplace. Coffee, commute, cube. Outlook, Word, Powerpoint, Excel. Daily, minutely. People think this is acceptable. It is not.

Oh, I forgot the point of the anecdote, but maybe it's obvious: he or she was using Internet Explorer. One of the fine pieces of software of our time.

The world of Microsoft is not okay. Every day, nine out of ten or ten out of ten people I come in contact with don't realize this. When I say the headline (in caps), they're completely taken aback. Some days I don't know if I can go on. And I don't even use any of their diseased manifestations.

Picture ALL of the people who use, rely on, even enjoy the software, hardware and otherwise that come from our friends at Microsoft. All of those people: in a crowd laid out before you, as far as the eye can see. Zune users up front. There's an awful lot of them. I'm worried they're all lined up for the fall.

Some day, someone is going to do something very bad to exploit a/all Windows computer(s). And the economic system we have built for ourselves will come to a devastating standstill. And people will be fucked in every way, all of them bad.


It's lovely.

lol no worries.
you will be comfy with this in no time flat.
its not trashy, like windows.
where you have to worry about everything, and there's a -registry- and an unpermissioned file system...
this is the thing, it sounds geeky but listen a sec.
a "file system" is just the way anything "gets at" the files on your hard drive. in windows, the file system is NTFS, which is very bad. basically all it knows about files is where they are (so it can read and write them), and what size they are (so it doesn't let files step on each others toes).
the problem is for the most part anything can get at any file.
with your mac, and all other operating systems that are based on linux, the file system is -permissioned- which means every file has a size and location, and also a set of rules on who/what/when/where/why it can be used.
thats why theres no such thing as a virus on a mac.
its impossible by definition because it would never get your permission.
sounds lovely
so all of that goes on behind the scenes for you and makes you happy, and doesnt crash, like windows.
well, it is.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Private note written directly to you.

Science is the only thing that matters. Realize that or off yourself.

It is scientifically prove-able whether or not god exists--and (so far) it has not been proven.

So if there's one more word about religion or deities then I'll punch you in the throat.

The only other option, if you're dead-set religious, is to work on the technology that proves god's existence. I bet if you join those engineering teams you'll lose faith pretty quickly.

Experts will tell you what's impossible.

I'm of the opinion that if you're a "professional" sports player then you really have only 2 options. One, drop dead immediately. Two, leave sports forever and enroll in an engineering education tomorrow morning. When I say 'sports' I basically mean anything that is not technology, not driving our society forward. Good luck guys.

I would stand in line for this.

A glass menagerie does not a morsel make.

But maybe five minutes into it you're chomping at the bit.

Pancake mix marketed as waffle mix.

I guess I'd be more pissed if it was triple-A batteries in the double-A package.

They've got it all figured out at the candy whistle factory too, by the way.

I really envy those guys.

Mustard has zero calories per serving so you can have infinite servings in one sitting. I wonder if you could sculpt mustard into a lasagna.

I guess what I mean is, what if you sat down to eat only mustard and continued doing that for eternity?

Unlike Ben and Jerry's, which has a mechanism for telling you when you've had enough.

Maybe I'll just go batshit crazy out of my mind.