an empty place v3.5

Yesterday I commited one of the cardinal sins of blog commenting, I didn't read the post. A friend pointed me to a post on Leon Bambrick's blog and it totally went passed me. Sorry Leon, for some reason, I just didn't see it.

I saw this article on CNN yesterday, George Takei certainly doesn't look 68 years old. M and I were in Petsmart last night with dumbass. Yup, we took the pooch shopping. It felt really weird walking around a store with a dog on a leash, but I got over it when I spotted the rack of animals in cages. On the bottom were the cats - I hate cats. On the top were the bunnies. I thought it would have been hillarious to see what Bella would do if she came face to face with the ellusive hare and when I brought her over to the glass she just stood there. Everyone around however had this look on their faces like I was complete moron for bringing a Greyhound to the rabbits. I was rather impressed that Bella didn't really do anything, the cats freaked out but she just stood there, quietly mocking their pathetic caged existences. I think for the first time I may have been pleased with Bella's behavior. Then the power went out - there was only about a two second delay before the auxillary power kicked in - and the store had to close until the problem was solved so that was the end of that little excursion.

I am bored out my mind, I tried working, taking a nap, reading Snow Crash, playing Halo, and watching Dragons Forever. This sucks, I just can't get motivated to do anything today.

Working all night has its perks: I can listen to whatever music I want for as long as I want without being bothered about it; I can get a lot done without being interrupted every 15 minutes; I can also fart and pick my nose without fear of someone sneaking up on me and accidentally catching a wiff of the good stuff. Tonight (last night/this morning) was another one of those nights and I made some really good progress. I had that kind of clarity that allows problems to solve themselves, the keys to press themselves, the mouse to move itself. Some would call that a hallucination, I call it a night well spent. Actually, I did have an extremely productive night and I only hope that what I perceive as productive now, will carry through to QA later.

I was also able to listen to some music that I keep meaning to listen to. I got to finally hear Jared Leto's band, 30 Seconds To Mars. Their debut album (self-titled) had a very "concept album" feel to it. Interesting, but hardly memorable. Their sophomore album, A Beautiful Lie, featuring the song "Attack" (currently whoring a radio station near you), was in the first few tracks a divergence from the experimental sound of the first disk (it sounded more like Leto was trying to break into the mainstream with a run-of-the-mill neo-punk sound that just didn't work). Then it went back to crap, well, really it never left crap-status but I think you get my point. As usual, YMMV, and if it does, we don't drive on the same roads... OK, that was a skoche overboard, the music really isn't that bad. I just felt like saying something bad about it. Personally, it isn't the kind of music I like to hear, though I will be seeing them in concert in December.

On the downside, Allmusic.com would like to try to make you believe 30STM has a "post-grunge sound suggestive of groups like Chevelle or Incubus." They also claim Filter is a similar artist (how In The Hell did Deftones influence the 30 STM sound?). Umm... Not quite. I really gotta stop reading reviews that come out of BMG.

A Halloween must see! This guy is awesome.

CNN has a fun article about Iran and how they do not appreciate the typical 'Merican arrogant sense of humor. You see, Kuma Reality Games makes war simulations and they happened to make one called 'Assault on Iran'. While this may not seem like much, their typical simulations are almost accurate portrails of real battles, mostly from the current desert war. Iran didn't think it was funny and while the spokesman for Kuma reveals just how stupid he is (or how naive he thinks the rest of us are) by saying "The controversy does surprise me. I just didn't expect that there were people from Iran who were going to become aware of it." a petition at PersianPetition.com is quoted (because I can't read Arabic, though I wouldn't mind learning) as stating "We must make the Americans understand that Iran is different from Iraq and Afghanistan, where they just did what they wanted." Quick question here, why is the site's logo and motto in English when the rest of the site appears to be in Arabic? Anyway, how is Iran different, are they saying they are better than Iraq and Afganistan? Is that why we won't be able to do what we want there? I'm confused, but then, this isn't something new is it?

"Wallace and Grumpet Wallace and Grumpet can we go see Wallace and Grumpet?! Huh can we please I've been good I want to go see Wallace and Grumpet attack of the where rabbit its so funny with these bunnies and his arms and he goes AAAHHHHH!!! and then there's cheese and lots of bunnies and goes GGGRRRRR!!! and Wallace and Grumpet and..." Thing Two trails off for a second while the momentary high from oxygen deprevation overcomes him. He takes a deep breath loading up for a another barrage of his own special brand of convince the parental units through high speed and unitelligable requests and exclamations as I turn to M and say "Wallace and Grumpet." hehehe Though we got to the movie late, it hadn't started yet. Apparently they knew The Things were coming so they threw on an 10 minutes of movie trailers and then a short film before the actual film started. Good stuff.

Thing One: Why didn't Grommet talk?
Me: He's a dog.
Thing One: But...
Thing Two: CHEESE!!!
Thing One: Why didn't they make him talk?
Me: He's a dog, dog's can't talk.
Thing One: But he could drive.
Me: And?
Thing One: He's a dog, dog's can't drive.
Me: Grommit can.
Thing One: How?
Me: They made him drive.
Thing Two: CHEESE!!!
Thing One: So they could make him talk.
Me: Nope, he's a dog. Dog's don't talk.

Another late night, I went about 27 hours yesterday(s) before picking up about 7 1/2 hours of sleep today. Wait, its Sunday now isn't it? Umm... Then the 27 can from Friday and Saturday the sleep happened on after that. To reset though I'll need to stay up until about 10 tonight and hopefully sleep this evening. This site I'm working on has presented a number of unique challenges that have taken a great deal of effort getting past. I am by far no expert in web design though I certainly do not find it nearly as challenging as say, mowing my lawn.

One of things that prompted me to get some sleep this morning was that it seemed html generated on the server was not the same as the stuff generated locally. You see, I converted this database to MySql, wrote a bunch of stuff in PHP to let me access it and search it along with some "smart" SQL commands and all the AJAX goodies and what not (that includes the stuff to leverage google maps). Now I'm working on the presentation. Well, one of the things that is happening is when a search returns a list of results the user can click an item and it will display a tabbed box at the bottom of the page (adding these boxes as the results are clicked). Its this "tabbed box" that I am have the most trouble with. But I don't want to get into all the specifics right now, I solved the problem and have moved on, it just took way too long to resolve. I just wanted whine about it for a bit before I start back on it.

Well, back to it, I want to get this done and I know the guy I am doing this for wants it done too.

The week is over but the work is not. On the off chance Wilma makes landfall in my Neck Of The Woods stronger than currently predicted, I need to be prepared. I am curious how much wood it will take to cover my windows though I would much rather go with steel. Another story but something that probably will need to be addressed this weekend. And there is the matter of finishing this web site I've been working on. Things seem to continuously battle me in my efforts, I swear. There just isn't enough time in the day. When I sleep its only for about 6 hours and that only seems to happen every other day. This is a particularly rough time for me, but I'll get through it, just like every other rough time in my life.

I bought a new mouse about twenty five minutes ago and spent the past twenty minutes trying to get it out of the packaging. Why do they do that? Why do they package these things in such a way as to make them totally inaccessible? And what is the reasoning for so much packaging for something that fits in the palm of your hand? Why I ask you, why? Why doesn't the store you buy a printer from carry the print cartriges for your printer? Why do the print cartriges cost more than a new printer? Wouldn't it make more sense, economically not environmentally - duh!, for me to just buy a new printer everytime I ran out of ink? Why isn't it a lucrative business where you can just have customers buy printers from you and bring them back when they run out of ink?

This morning M tried to print some stuff - I'd already used up the ink last weekend and told her, though I did not remind her through out the week and/or buy some new ink in my vast free time - and the printer just sat there silently mocking her in the only way printers can: they do nothing. They don't blink any of their myriad lights on the front and/or top panels that would make the likes of Chekov envious. They don't make that I'm trying to take the paper but its just so heavy grinding sound. They don't rock left-to-right or right-to-left as the print head slides back and forth sloshing the ink it dribbles inside. They sit there, in self-righteous indignance, mocking you. As I get out of the shower I am informed of the situation and after losing a staring contest with the printer, we decide to copy the document to disk and use a less emotional printer somewhere else.

This was the point at which I discovered how incredibly stupid I actually am. Let me explain. After taking a moment to remember what a floppy disk looks like (for those of you that can't remember yourselves, a floppy disk is not floppy and doesn't look like penguins, electric pencil sharpeners, or sticky notes - though this document could have been transcribed with a freshly sharpened penguin to a sticky note in less time than this whole ordeal took). A sudden burst of nostalgia as I ran across the half-dozen-or-so disks and we're off. First disk is bad. Second disk is bad. Third disk is bad. Fourth disk is bad. While attempting to access the fifth disk I ran the nearest penguin through the electric pencil sharpener and watched as the picture wiggled on the monitor. Hey that's pretty neat, I thought to myself, reminiscing over my preteen years, speaker magnets, and an old television set. Speaker magnets. Old Television. Magnets. Television. Squiggly picture. Magnets. Damn disk just failed! CRAP!!!

Failing to find any blank cds I decide to try a different machine in the house with another disk found on the other side of the office far far away from the electric pencil sharpener and speaker magnets. All I need to do is copy the file across the network and onto this disk. That's all I need to do. I can't see the other computer from M's. From the other computer I can't see M's PC. From the laptop I can't see either machine. Reboot the router. No change. The Things wait impatiently in the car, they're already 10 minutes late for their day of Specialized Child Humiliation Or Other Lessons, while I fumble around in the house. In exchange for their patience they decide all of the lights inside and out, blinkers, and the wipers needed to be turned on; the removable radio face should be slightly dislodged so that it does not create a proper and consistent connection; the visors should be down with the mirrors open, the driver's and passenger's outside mirrors be pointed at the ground and the sky respectively, the seats adjusted just enough to be annoying (amazing considering they're all electric and I still had the keys) and the headrests either all the way down or completely removed.

Needless to say, it was a slow morning but it picked up as the day went on.

A couple of weeks ago I posted about the English translation of "Death Note" being released this month. Well, this weekend I picked up a copy from Borders and downed it pretty quick. A number of reviewers were enamored by this story, touting "Death Note" as "One of the most interesting manga titles to come around for some time". While the story is interestingly twisted and takes an unexpected turn (or at least, did not take the same dry path I expected it to) with a mysterious international detective closing in on the boy genius delivering righteous justice through the Death Note, it is still lacking in many areas. The role of the Shinigami, Ryuk, in this tale is weak so far while I think the human character, Light, is dead on for a punk teenager know it all. I think thisreviewer made some pretty accurate statements: the art is ordinary; the dialogue is tedious at times; there is very little special about this title. Overall, this book should be darker, more sinister. By the end of volume one, Light has merely tested the waters with the Death Note and has left me wondering two things: 1) why hasn't he put the school bully's name in the book and 2) why hasn't he put his own name in there? Obviously I am going to read future volumes as they are translated, 'cause I'm a dork.

This weekend was a pretty good one. Saturday was packed with stuff to do. I was in bed by 4a Saturday morning, up by 11a and off to a new dog park. This one was pretty nice but again, there were no dogs. It seems as though three out of four times I go to a dog park with Little Miss Evil there are no dogs for her to play with. After letting run for a bit I leashed her up and we went for a walk around the rest of park. Really nice place in a really nice neighborhood. I am seriously thinking about thinking about looking into maybe checking around about possibily getting a new house in this area of town. Maybe. So, while we were walking down by the lake, dumb dumb decided to test the murky water surface tension and tried to walk across. With one foot on shore and three rapidly sinking into the abyss, Bella froze in panic. Needless to say, she learned a valuable lesson that day, dogs sink.

Later, we coordinated with some family friends to meet at the local fair and spend lots of money on extremely short rides and rigged games. Thing Two demanded I take him on the Ferris wheel and being the strong fatherly type I decided my fear of heights would have to weight. I managed to stiffle my own wimpering and trembling knees to ride in the unsecurred basket with a seven-year old that had no clue of the lack of maintenance and disrepair these gypsies keep their rides in. Meanwhile, Thing One enjoys the less obviously dangerous bumper cars. Just before we left, to help Thing One over his fears I coaxed him on to the Ferris wheel. Yeah, I'm a glutton. I get him on board with a promise of the bungie jump ($5 for three minutes of hopping on a rubber band, woo hoo) and by the time we get to the top he's all giggles and I'm sweating bullets.

Back at home the The Things get deloused and prepared for Granny's while we instruct the sitter on what to do. Darting through the house, Thing One slams his foot into the vacuum. Not five minutes later, Thing Two does exactly the same thing. Once again stifling - laughter this time - I help them both and get them settled. M and I are off for the evening and I get to play parking lot police identifying cars with lights left on and abandonned cellphones to the maitre d'. Sunday comes and The Things are with Granny spending the day at Busch Gardens. But when I picked them up that night, I learned just how bad Thing One's pinky toe actually is and a trip to the doctor's this morning proves it: it's hurt. In the doctor's words, "it might have a small fracture or just just be jammed up real bad." He did explain that a teensy weensy cast is out of the question so "Buddy Taping" is what needs to be done. Apparently, Thing One's toes are buddies (not for long though) and they got taped together.

I asked Thing One about why he didn't say anything about his foot and he responded, "I was trying to tough it out, like you said, but it really hurts now." My chest swelled with pride and pain that my son, my newly 11 year old son, was trying to be a man and stick out the pain. And it killed me that I made my boy walk around all day on a broken toe because I was trying to teach him that sometimes, you just have to work through the pain. What kind of a crap dad have I become? The boys gone and broken his toe and I jokingly respond with "you've got nine more..."

A year or two ago my step dad and I went over to one of his friends' apartments where we were to fix their son's computer. Turns out their son is my age and we hit it off pretty well. He's a gearhead like my step dad but I can't hold that against him. The computer's fixed and he invites me for a beer to continue our conversation but I decline as I have other things that need to be tended to - though I don't really drink, he seemed like a good guy to hang out with.

One day last week on my way home from work, the route I usually take was unusually cramped and I was extraordinarily impatient so I took a side road. This put me down some back roads and I passed right by his apartment building. Hey, I know those apartments, that's where Troy lives, he was a good guy. I thought to myself and went on about my business. Then, this evening, I get a call from my step father letting me know Troy was found dead in his living room. I don't know any specifics yet, sure wish I had taken the oportunity to get to know him better.

Here's the science: After reading the above mentioned article and all of its coments (hey, I did it, you can do it too) you can follow these lose-fitting and confusing instructions. Locating the Thunderbird mail files wasn't pleasant though Spotlight, once I remembered it, came in very useful. When you find the correct files, copy the ones without an extension (inbox, outbox, drafts, sent, etc...) to the desktop so that you can rename them with a .mbox extension. Open Entourage and drag the newly renamed files into with there Folders on My Computer list, or into an already open folder. This may take some time if you have a lot of mail because Thunderbird apparently does not actually sort the mail as it is displayed to you. Yes sir (or maddam as the case may be), this does mean you will have to locate and sort the newly imported inbox yourself. My suggestions are 1) sort the inbox by From and make the relocating of messages easier to handle; B) Configure your junk and filter settings and let Entourage handle the sorting for you; or III) Write an add-in that will do the sorting and catologuing for you AND your e-mail client. I really like option III, but since I am down to the R's I think I'll skip that one.

The only problem is, I need that VPC 'cause I write software for Windows. Yes, I code for food, does that make me a whore? I sold out years ago, abandoning my high-brow ideals of revolution and true freedom when I discovered money and what it can do for you. I used to live with everything I owned in a backpack, then it got stolen. There's no more humbling an experience than having the few possessions in the world that meant anything to you (soap, deoderant, tooth brush and paste, change of under-clothes (experience taught me you'll never know when these things will become essential), a book of poetry, a notebook with my own crappy poems in it, and an assorted of other oddities that had been recently stuffed in the bag) suddenly taken away - while you run inside a McDonald's on the beach to try to flirt akwardly with a girl while ordering fries and a coke. Then I bought a new backpack and put new stuff in it. Then I got my own place (actually, I moved in with a good friend of mine's brother) and didn't need the backpack anymore, which was a good thing because it and a few other items were stolen from my car in front of my new place (and later, a third backpack was stolen from my car in front of M's work when we were dating).

Anyway, the I am in the middle of some pretty heavy clipboard development (reimplementing/refactoring copy and paste functionality in our app) when the VPC I am currently working on dies. Then, after rebooting, all clipboard operations are locked. After creating a new VPC from my previously known good base-line still nothing. deletig and reinstalling VPC works for a little while but then it starts getting hosed up again. So I pander to my best friend's good will and get him to loan me a PC that I can work on. I wish I could just work on the laptop, but the development tools for (C/C++/C#) any other platform pale in comparrison to Visual Studio, I'm sorry, but it is The Truth. And I will take that to anyone claiming otherwise; hands down, VS is superior. And I mean the IDE, not the compiler. It'd be nice if it would support user-defined linkers and compilers but...

So, I've finally gotten everything installed on this box so I can get some work done. The only thing I had trouble with was setting up the Apache, PHP, and MySQL stuff for the work I am doing on a web site. I found this site and was on my way in a few short minutes. I can never remember how to configure Apache to use PHP so I always have to dig around for it.

The diet is done for now, as soon as I decided to drop weight I got slammed with reality: work deadlines, illness, and only having 24 hours in a day. I am thinking about trying again this coming Monday but I doubt it will happen. We'll see. People have told me in they can't see me at 240 and the few I've shown the only full-body picture I have to have commented about how unbelievable it is. And they follow it up with, "but you aren't fat now". They can say that with confidence because they don't see me naked. They should be thanking me for that one. Am I too self-conscious? Yes. But then if I weren't, I'd be even bigger than I used to be. I just want to get into good enough shape to pull off a good sexy-jutsu.

Its been a week and not too much has happened; I got sick, the mutt brutalized my office door (the door frame, a desk and computer, an antique bureau, and a window sill) - now she's on doggy valium and I've basically busted my ass while recovering. Right now, I am taking a break from another midnight work-a-thon. That's thon not thong. You see, I've gotten the big parts of this project done, its just all the little crap and special circumstances that are really bogging me down. That and the fact that my unrealistic deadline was preempted and reinstated several times only to be moved up a few days to be due tomorrow.

Why are Japanese people so big on death and suicide? I am seeing more and more about it lately. I watched another Google Current piece on suicide and am now half-watching the Paranoia Agent episode "Happy Family Planning", which happens to be all about it. This month's Shonen Jump is showcasing the new graphic novel Death Note. Death Note is about this Japanese Grim Reaper (they have a bunch of them) and a 17 year old genius; and they are both bored. So, the Grim Reaper dude drops his notebook (write a person's name in it and how they die and it will happen) in the Human realm just to see what happens. Boy Genius finds it and has some fun killing several hundred people. As a short, this is a decent story but here's the kicker, seven novels have been written in the past year (it is insanely popular over there) and the first translated volume is hitting shelves here this month. Seven books. I just don't see where this kind of story can go. Obviously I am going to have to buy a copy and see what happens.

According to my news reader, after a week of not reading any blogs, I have over 500 unread posts. You know what this means, there's got to be at least three posts in there I'd actually find interesting.

Oh, and I saw The Corpse Bride this weekend. It was lame, as in FDR.