Wednesday, January 17, 2007
ariaofcalm
And at one time it was thought by all to not be the stench that it was and continues to be, yet instead it was referred to as urban decay.
Urban decay; vomit and piss – little difference.
From shit hole to an even shittier hole; urban decay incubated by the warmth of the underground...almost home.
Urban decay; vomit and piss – little difference.
As a child, my ears bled. I would wake up to find little dark brown splotches dotting my pillow. Though I complained, it wasn't until I ruined a sufficient number of pillow cases before my mother decided it was time to take me to see a doctor. He sent me to a Otologist. She sent me to a Neurologist. He sent me back. Eventually, it was found that I had an acute sensitivity to sound. A rare case. My eardrums could not handle the stress of everyday sounds. It wasn't until I almost went deaf listening to Kraftwerk for the first time (it took two weeks for the hearing to come back but three for the pain to leave), before my mom started enforcing my treatment. “Treatment” consisted of self-induced deafness. Some of my classmates complained about braces. I didn't tell anyone I had a reverse hearing-aid, they just sort of assumed I was dumb.Between the whitemouth crack-head with scaly skin and the nondescript hustler, trying desperately to turn her out, was the entrance to the tube.
The wind is changing. I know. I was cold last night. I know. I missed
you. I missed you too. I love you. I...can't see you no more.
I know. Do you understand me? I do.
you. I missed you too. I love you. I...can't see you no more.
I know. Do you understand me? I do.
From shit hole to an even shittier hole; urban decay incubated by the warmth of the underground...almost home.
There was this time I was in a field, near a stream. I could not hear anything through my unhearing aid, yet desperately wanted as much. By this time, my ears were much more sensitive and as such I was quite careful to protect myself from any sudden sounds. I slowly notched the volume wheel up, pausing at each small click and quivering at every new sound. I didn't turn it all the way up; just as I began to flinch at the roar of the stream, I heard something. Rather, someone. At first I had to play with the volume, to get it just right so that I could handle the amplified nails on chalkboard that were the birds and still just barely begin to make out what the voice was saying. Rather, what she was saying. Rather, singing. The stream ultimately made it too hard for me to comprehend her. I found other places though, more quite places. And once I happened upon noise-canceling headphones at the mall, I could hear her anywhere.Streaked bleak early morning sky. The tube was always bleak and never morning...never anytime. The tracks hummed the weight of the train as I closed my eyes and slipped on my headphones, she then hummed the weight of my soul and quickly found me dreaming. How lucky was I.
[ Gabriel Kent - Irvine, CA - 2005.11.29 ]
permanent link [ariaofcalm]Monday, January 01, 2007
2007
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Notebook Hitup
One day I noticed that my notebook was looking very plain. Too plain. In fact, upon this discovery I set at once to correct it. What you see above is the result.
As a side-note, I though it would be an interesting Flickr group...so if you have the guts, hit yours up and post it to Notebook Hitup.
>||;)
permanent link [Notebook Hitup]New Design
Yes...well I was hoping to rid myself of the blog on this site but rather opted to splice it with the simple profile you now see....
bah...
permanent link [New Design]
bah...
permanent link [New Design]Wednesday, August 10, 2005
optimus prime.
I received this link today:
Optimus, THE keyboard
So basically it is a keyboard with a bunch of little screens embedded in the keys, in which the pictures on the keys change to match your current context (ie: word, photoshop, prince of persia)...nice.
On a related note, I just bought the mighty mouse --- it sucks ass...
left-to-right: (1) me, mouse+wall [not seen], jorge, alton, ivo, sean (2) dead mouse, my foot
left-to-right: (1) some person way back there, me, keyboard, jorge, alton (2) me, xin, jorge
permanent link [optimus prime.]Monday, August 01, 2005
I See Skies of Blue and Wireless Fidelity Too...
I am...how do you say....excited like a cockerspaniel (you know, when you come home and they piss themselves because they are soo very happy)...why? Good question...here are the answers:
- Be Your Own Hotspot
"I love the fact that more and more devices are sporting built-in Wi-Fi—the Sony PSP, smartphones, even Kodak’s EasyShare-One digital camera. The lone hitch: Wi-Fi is useless without a hotspot..." (more @ How 2.0) - Junxion
"The Junxion Box™ wireless WAN router uses a patent pending software platform to act as a connectivity bridge between cellular data service and client devices like laptop and desktop computers. With the Junxion Box, people can connect their devices to PC Card modems from wireless carriers using common interfaces like Ethernet and Wi-Fi..." (more @ Junxion) - The StompBox
"A Stompbox is a home-brew WWAN (Wireless Wide Area Network) router. In more human terms, it's a compact little box that gets data from cellular towers and re-shares it for multiple computers to use..." (more @ StompBox Networks)
...and let me not forget that my EV-DO connection via my xv6600 is holding up great in this dial-up-only Motel 6 (with not a Wi-Fi in sight).
permanent link [I See Skies of Blue and Wireless Fidelity Too...]Thursday, July 07, 2005
Standing with Giants...
New Car for Mom
I bought my mom a car today.
Feels pretty good.
I suppose a nicer car and a better house is on its way.
Just a matter of time...
>||;)
permanent link [New Car for Mom]
Feels pretty good.
I suppose a nicer car and a better house is on its way.
Just a matter of time...
>||;)
permanent link [New Car for Mom]Friday, March 25, 2005
SHHH! Mobile Conversations
There is a piece in Wired about the Society for Handheld Hushing (SHHH).
Apparently, this guy's [Jim Coudal] wife [Heidi] was fed up with mobile users "yapping" away into their phones in public spaces.
Now I would be the first to admit that there are some places in which a mobile conversation is inappropriate; however, I would venture to say that in any of those cases a normal conversation (non-mobile, physical) would also be inappropriate.
Here is my point: If I were on the bus or in a store standing in-line or at a table in a restaurant and there is someone participating in a mobile conversation why should one feel they need to "Shhh" them? What if that person was not on the phone, but was speaking with someone physically near them? Perhaps that person could be the person they are speaking to on the phone.
I do not think there is any one answer to this question but I think the main parts are these:
Anyway, SHHH's Heidi had the idea of creating little cards as a subtle way of telling people to "Shhh" on their phones. Now while I applaud the novelty of the idea and the look of the cards (they look clean and are quite funny) I would have to say that if anyone handed me on of these as a sign that I should stop my mobile conversation, I might have to provide them with a sign of my own which is equally novel yet much much older...
permanent link [SHHH! Mobile Conversations]
Apparently, this guy's [Jim Coudal] wife [Heidi] was fed up with mobile users "yapping" away into their phones in public spaces.
Now I would be the first to admit that there are some places in which a mobile conversation is inappropriate; however, I would venture to say that in any of those cases a normal conversation (non-mobile, physical) would also be inappropriate.
Here is my point: If I were on the bus or in a store standing in-line or at a table in a restaurant and there is someone participating in a mobile conversation why should one feel they need to "Shhh" them? What if that person was not on the phone, but was speaking with someone physically near them? Perhaps that person could be the person they are speaking to on the phone.
Would you ever think that it would be OK to lean over and tell two people to "Shhh" their conversation?Well, you might if they were bit too loud or the content of their conversation was offensive...but otherwise would you feel compelled to even notice them? Probably not, because we are used to people speaking in groups around us all the time. So what is the big deal with someone in the same setting speaking to someone who is not there?
I do not think there is any one answer to this question but I think the main parts are these:
- Some people speak way too loudly into their mobile phone. True, it is required to get the message across on some handhelds/networks nowadays, but more often than not, someone speaking too loudly into their mobile phone is just simply speaking too loudly
- People just are not accustom to perceiving the rights of a conversation when only one party is present. When you have two people disposed in conversation it is a bit more difficult to approach them and say "Shhh" simply because they are two people and you may be only one and therefore the majority is against you. However, when you are by yourself and you see someone equally by themselves it may be easier to pretend that even though they are on the phone with another person they are one person bothering you, thus its easy to focus the blame and further muster the will to "Shhh" them
Anyway, SHHH's Heidi had the idea of creating little cards as a subtle way of telling people to "Shhh" on their phones. Now while I applaud the novelty of the idea and the look of the cards (they look clean and are quite funny) I would have to say that if anyone handed me on of these as a sign that I should stop my mobile conversation, I might have to provide them with a sign of my own which is equally novel yet much much older...
permanent link [SHHH! Mobile Conversations]Sunday, March 13, 2005
NASA World Wind
7'' VGA/USB Touchscreen
Mix with 1 part mac mini, port replicators, some soft and wireless junk and you got yourself (x) to go.
XENARC DIRECT
permanent link [7'' VGA/USB Touchscreen]
XENARC DIRECT
permanent link [7'' VGA/USB Touchscreen]How To: Building a BlueSniper Rifle - Part 1
An improvement to a good idea from Flexilis, now with step-by-step instructions.
Yes, you too can put your self in suspect peril while 'sniping' some unsuspecting execs for fun and profit.
How To: Building a BlueSniper Rifle - Part 1
Keep on the lookout for Part 2 which should be equally enjoyable.
permanent link [How To: Building a BlueSniper Rifle - Part 1]
Yes, you too can put your self in suspect peril while 'sniping' some unsuspecting execs for fun and profit.
How To: Building a BlueSniper Rifle - Part 1
Keep on the lookout for Part 2 which should be equally enjoyable.
permanent link [How To: Building a BlueSniper Rifle - Part 1]Thursday, March 03, 2005
Of Service and Servitude
What godly act ought not to perform without just?
So worldly facts torn without fuss from little limbs of so early trust.
For want not of intruding such trust- I beckon thee thus; to wander must upon impeding cost of perilous persons you accost. Stern thy growing soul and harden thy resolution to the task- let not life’s quarrels bring thee cost of thus unholy loss of care. Persons upon persons will attest- to stories told at one’s behest- the truth's true face has beheld its breath- to squander not from such persons chest. Yet the great will wander past-- pausing once to muster pass and loosing ground to ruthless chaste-- will ponder thus the incongruity of such fate- to see one born in service too woeful to relate- lest intrude upon another’s hate which swelters greatly still of late.
And wonder must such great behold- with laden understanding of impending cold- upon such beauty as such stories hold- for little women to be sold. Nay they speak the life does not fold- into true happiness as is told- for they are lost until old- alone and saddened by fate’s ignorant scold. So deserving are these souls- that for service of comfort they at once strive at idea of riches as one’s own -- yet folly’s wings will have flown and lengthen thus one’s uncharitable home.
In chains of service spends one’s soul - growing older than an older old- to attest to longer days and darker nights at men’s laughing plight and engrossing delight. So fond a memory at chance to provide- falls nothing more than casual tide- in drunken slanders in public fights- discourse so vulgar as to be lost any remaining sanctity of the deed. Yet holler they of worthy breed- to count their soils and spray their seed- to any receiving flower within range; this nature’s beast was given brain. Rye are what thoughts do come- to deceive the thinker to have them done- all the while earth’s true beauty becomes-- undone. Like slaughtered lamb its wondrous blood does run- upon weathered cheeks of the fairest fair loosing color with each crystalline tear.
In name of ends that may not share- upon the whole with longer hair. Yet upon the setting sun with the day's sum to be understood before sleeping- would overcome the thinker’s mind of what exactly does define the nature of one’s service. That mind should find- the common thread that does bind- the spirited nature of the blind- in hoping to in such features find- the truest purchase of the common sign and read the nature of its message line by line.
So such service does stay-- born thus from the first of days and will forever obey the master’s command he be paid- service and servitude for his play- at the ravage of his maiden’s way.
permanent link [Of Service and Servitude]
So worldly facts torn without fuss from little limbs of so early trust.
For want not of intruding such trust- I beckon thee thus; to wander must upon impeding cost of perilous persons you accost. Stern thy growing soul and harden thy resolution to the task- let not life’s quarrels bring thee cost of thus unholy loss of care. Persons upon persons will attest- to stories told at one’s behest- the truth's true face has beheld its breath- to squander not from such persons chest. Yet the great will wander past-- pausing once to muster pass and loosing ground to ruthless chaste-- will ponder thus the incongruity of such fate- to see one born in service too woeful to relate- lest intrude upon another’s hate which swelters greatly still of late.
And wonder must such great behold- with laden understanding of impending cold- upon such beauty as such stories hold- for little women to be sold. Nay they speak the life does not fold- into true happiness as is told- for they are lost until old- alone and saddened by fate’s ignorant scold. So deserving are these souls- that for service of comfort they at once strive at idea of riches as one’s own -- yet folly’s wings will have flown and lengthen thus one’s uncharitable home.
In chains of service spends one’s soul - growing older than an older old- to attest to longer days and darker nights at men’s laughing plight and engrossing delight. So fond a memory at chance to provide- falls nothing more than casual tide- in drunken slanders in public fights- discourse so vulgar as to be lost any remaining sanctity of the deed. Yet holler they of worthy breed- to count their soils and spray their seed- to any receiving flower within range; this nature’s beast was given brain. Rye are what thoughts do come- to deceive the thinker to have them done- all the while earth’s true beauty becomes-- undone. Like slaughtered lamb its wondrous blood does run- upon weathered cheeks of the fairest fair loosing color with each crystalline tear.
In name of ends that may not share- upon the whole with longer hair. Yet upon the setting sun with the day's sum to be understood before sleeping- would overcome the thinker’s mind of what exactly does define the nature of one’s service. That mind should find- the common thread that does bind- the spirited nature of the blind- in hoping to in such features find- the truest purchase of the common sign and read the nature of its message line by line.
So such service does stay-- born thus from the first of days and will forever obey the master’s command he be paid- service and servitude for his play- at the ravage of his maiden’s way.
permanent link [Of Service and Servitude]Friday, January 28, 2005
Control.
I had this dream once. I was in this room, everything was bright at first, too bright in fact...until she walked in. The lights seemed to dim to an ambient tone...but she...she radiated. I now know she stole the light. She walked into the room and stole the light and made the room well. Better than well, she made the room. The silk sheets in which she melted with were hers, she stole the softness of the silk unto her skin and radiated. A crescendo of fabric and life...and her breath...her breath came at quickening pace. She was mine.
When I awoke from that dream I realized she was no longer mine. Phantom love like a lost limb haunts the heart and fools the mind as if it still remained but has long since passed. If there was a way to re-grow that love against the wishes of nature much like the forced regeneration of a limb, would I...do so? Control can re-grow love. I could make her love me again.
. . .
I spend most of my days in a clean room dissecting the poor mutated souls that are thrown into the freezer down the hall. Bodies are left, processed and end up on my table. I have since departed from the accepted methods of my trade and have instead by need, invented methods all of my own doing. Fortunately, I have never needed to rely on the medieval meat cleavers and saws and such to conduct the dissections of flesh for my research. Instead, I dissect the resident electronic emissions from the various mutated regions of brain cells found in one specific creature, the C004.
The C004, more commonly referred to as the Controller, contains the uncanny ability to control thought patterns through use of its psycho-suggestive biology (PSB). The PSB portions of C004 thus far seem to contain a mechanism to resonate electronic low frequency (ELF) spikes uni- and omni-directionally. The affect of C004's use of its PSB allows it to speak directly to its victim's minds as if the victim's mind was providing the suggestions. In other words, C004 speaks to your brain as if it were your own brain. As a result, you accept its suggestions as if they were your own and you would never know the difference because you were hacked.
. . .
Sometimes I think that when I finish my work I might exploit the results for my own personal favor. I wonder if it will even matter. The result of my research will have a profound effect on the world. When I finish, it can be arranged so that I will have never known it took place or that I finished it. Perhaps I have already finished it. I would not know if I have been hacked, no one could.
. . .
Once upon a time there was a horrible disaster and what some viewed as tragedy others viewed as opportunity. One can only speculate to the nature of how this opportunity came to pass.
Project Control is the rather unimaginative name given to my research. Control captures the essence of the Orwellian supervise and control society and puts it in reach of the current power. Today as a result of my research, I could influence your emotional state and as a consequence make you happy. I could even make you want to be around me more. I could make you sad and despise me. I could do a lot of things I could probably do otherwise, but I could do them much faster and silently. How would you know that I don't really turn you on if you feel butterflies in your stomach and weakness in your knees? I could be your next best friend or lover and your mind would tell your heart all is well and you are happy with me.
. . .
At first I wanted to believe that I could still tell. I wanted for the sake of humanity to tell the difference. I couldn't. The hundreds of animals and humans that I have thus far tested...couldn't. Humanity has failed to detect this exploit of the mind. Humanity will have lost when I am finished.
. . .
There remains a finite portion of the C004's PSB that remains unknown. Yet the basis of how the Controller controls is known. Upon first examination of the C004 you will find that it seems highly unlikely that it can verbalize much more than grunts or squeals. Further, functional magnetic resonance images (fMRI) taken of a subdued C004's brain indicate an acute retardation of the vocal cortex. Yet, what is also readily distinguishable is a dense growth of synapses that seem to reroute its vocalization to circuitry that controls three piezoelectric bone shards which sit above and attached to the brain stem. These shards when stimulated effectively become the vocal cords for the C004 and allow it to communicate via ELF in short frequency hops. It is important to note however, that the bone shards are not completely composed of only bone. Within the center of each of the shards a hallow cavity exists filled with a very peculiar soft tissue material that controls the shape of the shard as it is stimulated. Interestingly enough, the brain stem and the subsequent spinal cord seem to act as an antenna for the ELF signals. Further, the C004 seems to control the radiance and direction of the ELF signals by means of stimulation to certain areas or portions of the spinal cord in concert with the activity of the bone shards.
. . .
When I finish my work I will return to her. She could love me again. I could...help her love me again. I could make her happier than she has ever been. I can change myself as well. I know what she doesn't like about me and I could change that for her. I could help us by making us more compatible. I am in hell now. I have seen and have done unspeakable things, but I can forget all of that. I can make us believe we never parted. She would love me then, I could make it right for us. All I ever really wanted was to be happy. I was happy when she was mine.
. . .
Due to the less than precise emanation of the signal, when the C004 "talks" to its victim's brain it creates a condition similar to that of an abortion. Each time a female performs an abortion she reduces her chance to bare child, each time the C004 hacks your mind it reduces your ability to birth your own thoughts in the affected regions because your brain will have physically changed as a result. Therefore, repeated suggestions by the C004 to its victims will eventually make mash of the lifelong learned synaptic connections and instead recreate the upper mind into a type of etch-a-sketch for the C004 to draw and erase its commands at will. The lower reptilian portions of the victim's brain go unmodified by the C004 and thus the victim still retains the ability to coordinate voluntary and involuntary muscle functions such as walking and breathing. As recorded by remote electroencephalogram (rEEG), the C004 in most cases can format a person's brain to a blank state in less than five minutes. Yet can effectively gain control of an individual's actions in less the one. Victims that have been controlled but have not been completely formatted are changed forever with a predisposition to carry out whatever programming was left in the victim's mind by the C004. It has been reported that of the victims saved from a directive by the C004 to kill a certain individual, the victim will attempt to carry out that task if presented with an opportunity even if the victim appears to have fully recovered in every other manner. Fortunately, my earlier work provided a method to somewhat repair most of the harm in the victim by directing programming opposite to that of the directive implanted by a C004. However, such repair still leaves the victim with a predisposition to like or love the one they were previously programmed to kill and reduces their ability to form different thoughts or feelings for that person. The negative effects of this treatment have yet to manifest in test subjects.
. . .
Though I can make myself forget and have proven I would never know otherwise, I can't believe I wouldn't know. I would be changing her for me. I would be changing her forever...for me. Her love is perfect and I could never change that. I can only change myself. To abort her from my mind would be to steal her from me forever. I have my dreams and I can change myself to always dream, to be with her always. When I finish my work the world will have changed and I will return to where she hasn't.
When I awoke from that dream I realized she was no longer mine. Phantom love like a lost limb haunts the heart and fools the mind as if it still remained but has long since passed. If there was a way to re-grow that love against the wishes of nature much like the forced regeneration of a limb, would I...do so? Control can re-grow love. I could make her love me again.
. . .
I spend most of my days in a clean room dissecting the poor mutated souls that are thrown into the freezer down the hall. Bodies are left, processed and end up on my table. I have since departed from the accepted methods of my trade and have instead by need, invented methods all of my own doing. Fortunately, I have never needed to rely on the medieval meat cleavers and saws and such to conduct the dissections of flesh for my research. Instead, I dissect the resident electronic emissions from the various mutated regions of brain cells found in one specific creature, the C004.
The C004, more commonly referred to as the Controller, contains the uncanny ability to control thought patterns through use of its psycho-suggestive biology (PSB). The PSB portions of C004 thus far seem to contain a mechanism to resonate electronic low frequency (ELF) spikes uni- and omni-directionally. The affect of C004's use of its PSB allows it to speak directly to its victim's minds as if the victim's mind was providing the suggestions. In other words, C004 speaks to your brain as if it were your own brain. As a result, you accept its suggestions as if they were your own and you would never know the difference because you were hacked.
. . .
Sometimes I think that when I finish my work I might exploit the results for my own personal favor. I wonder if it will even matter. The result of my research will have a profound effect on the world. When I finish, it can be arranged so that I will have never known it took place or that I finished it. Perhaps I have already finished it. I would not know if I have been hacked, no one could.
. . .
Once upon a time there was a horrible disaster and what some viewed as tragedy others viewed as opportunity. One can only speculate to the nature of how this opportunity came to pass.
Project Control is the rather unimaginative name given to my research. Control captures the essence of the Orwellian supervise and control society and puts it in reach of the current power. Today as a result of my research, I could influence your emotional state and as a consequence make you happy. I could even make you want to be around me more. I could make you sad and despise me. I could do a lot of things I could probably do otherwise, but I could do them much faster and silently. How would you know that I don't really turn you on if you feel butterflies in your stomach and weakness in your knees? I could be your next best friend or lover and your mind would tell your heart all is well and you are happy with me.
. . .
At first I wanted to believe that I could still tell. I wanted for the sake of humanity to tell the difference. I couldn't. The hundreds of animals and humans that I have thus far tested...couldn't. Humanity has failed to detect this exploit of the mind. Humanity will have lost when I am finished.
. . .
There remains a finite portion of the C004's PSB that remains unknown. Yet the basis of how the Controller controls is known. Upon first examination of the C004 you will find that it seems highly unlikely that it can verbalize much more than grunts or squeals. Further, functional magnetic resonance images (fMRI) taken of a subdued C004's brain indicate an acute retardation of the vocal cortex. Yet, what is also readily distinguishable is a dense growth of synapses that seem to reroute its vocalization to circuitry that controls three piezoelectric bone shards which sit above and attached to the brain stem. These shards when stimulated effectively become the vocal cords for the C004 and allow it to communicate via ELF in short frequency hops. It is important to note however, that the bone shards are not completely composed of only bone. Within the center of each of the shards a hallow cavity exists filled with a very peculiar soft tissue material that controls the shape of the shard as it is stimulated. Interestingly enough, the brain stem and the subsequent spinal cord seem to act as an antenna for the ELF signals. Further, the C004 seems to control the radiance and direction of the ELF signals by means of stimulation to certain areas or portions of the spinal cord in concert with the activity of the bone shards.
. . .
When I finish my work I will return to her. She could love me again. I could...help her love me again. I could make her happier than she has ever been. I can change myself as well. I know what she doesn't like about me and I could change that for her. I could help us by making us more compatible. I am in hell now. I have seen and have done unspeakable things, but I can forget all of that. I can make us believe we never parted. She would love me then, I could make it right for us. All I ever really wanted was to be happy. I was happy when she was mine.
. . .
Due to the less than precise emanation of the signal, when the C004 "talks" to its victim's brain it creates a condition similar to that of an abortion. Each time a female performs an abortion she reduces her chance to bare child, each time the C004 hacks your mind it reduces your ability to birth your own thoughts in the affected regions because your brain will have physically changed as a result. Therefore, repeated suggestions by the C004 to its victims will eventually make mash of the lifelong learned synaptic connections and instead recreate the upper mind into a type of etch-a-sketch for the C004 to draw and erase its commands at will. The lower reptilian portions of the victim's brain go unmodified by the C004 and thus the victim still retains the ability to coordinate voluntary and involuntary muscle functions such as walking and breathing. As recorded by remote electroencephalogram (rEEG), the C004 in most cases can format a person's brain to a blank state in less than five minutes. Yet can effectively gain control of an individual's actions in less the one. Victims that have been controlled but have not been completely formatted are changed forever with a predisposition to carry out whatever programming was left in the victim's mind by the C004. It has been reported that of the victims saved from a directive by the C004 to kill a certain individual, the victim will attempt to carry out that task if presented with an opportunity even if the victim appears to have fully recovered in every other manner. Fortunately, my earlier work provided a method to somewhat repair most of the harm in the victim by directing programming opposite to that of the directive implanted by a C004. However, such repair still leaves the victim with a predisposition to like or love the one they were previously programmed to kill and reduces their ability to form different thoughts or feelings for that person. The negative effects of this treatment have yet to manifest in test subjects.
. . .
Though I can make myself forget and have proven I would never know otherwise, I can't believe I wouldn't know. I would be changing her for me. I would be changing her forever...for me. Her love is perfect and I could never change that. I can only change myself. To abort her from my mind would be to steal her from me forever. I have my dreams and I can change myself to always dream, to be with her always. When I finish my work the world will have changed and I will return to where she hasn't.
| Gabriel Kent
Yampol', Kiev 2012.06 |
permanent link [Control.]Saturday, December 25, 2004
Of Christmas...
"...what is of Christmas besides its peril in cost and blessings of gain? its purpose to the young and weak is all too apparent...but what is it to the lesser savant? and does not a scholar smirk at such affair? though exists through every rational link a solid immovable certainty in which any rationale may challenge, such questions are meaningless for they are lost on the various humors of the brain.
the preponderance of Christmas for the user is purely a formation birthed by the fiery passions of the heart. yet by design, the heart lies outside of the brain but within the confides of the mind. therefore, in any hope to derive and direct meaningful inquiry a bind must be created to bridge the creature of rationale with the buoyant child of passion. a unity which might justly so, provide the basis for a new topology for observing the affairs of peoples like that in which exists the induced spirit of Christmas. for the user, Christmas is a symptom of connected hearts. and for the provider its a symptom of connected capital ambitions --- but let us not speak of that aspect of Christmas for the affair of capital and markets lie squarely in the regards of rationale just as well as anything else we know and rationale stands mostly distinct from the spirit of Christmas.
in accordance with object truth we must admit that the spirit of Christmas afflicts proportionately the connected populous of hearts and is entirely lost on misanthropes while somewhat on the sparsely connected heart. furthermore, we must cast out the notion that Christmas exists purely for the young and weak and observe the vast attendance of Christmas. while we ponder the spirit of Christmas in an individual by the heartful connections they may have, we find accordance with object truth. yet we must be careful not to attribute just any socialite with connectedness of heart for the two types of connections are mutually exclusive for further the number of heartful connections frolics listlessly behind the deeply entwined quality of heartful connections. it may be said that the characteristic structure of a socialite's network matches that of our circadian rhythms, pace maker cells and the perpetual crescendo of certain firefly communities but it also identifies the character of heartful connections. the connections between social groups, sleep, cells, fireflies and hearts are all scale-free and exist within the property of the power law. as such, individually and whole our network of hearts is subject to the exploits of its character. doubtless the spirit of Christmas as a whole will be disturbed while conversely the individual's Christmas spirit may.
the power law demands that it take but few heartful disconnects to agitate one's lonely contempt of Christmas but in some cases it may take only one...even if the disconnect is temporary and is a function of distance during the most spirited days of Christmas..."
(Wikipedia version here)
permanent link [Of Christmas...]Friday, December 03, 2004
On 2nd thought...
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
Mu Arae
Chapter One
. . .
“He injects that stuff into our veins and I do not believe that that stuff is what I should have put in me!” bellowed the old hag. “That stuff is inoculating you against the poisons of nature and is probably the only reason you have lived this long!” retorted Casn, “...and what exactly is wrong with that? Other than the fact you have another precious life cycle on Dee,” he finished more to himself than to the group. “Please, please everyone calm down, old Vrbra has a point,” soothed Jne. “With what we are all acquainted with as the decay of Dee, I have proven that we have now entered into a most dangerous epoch for our society...” but before she could finish- “Rubbish! Absolutely rubbish! My family, as well are yours…” he continued, waving his finger around the room “have been taking the life serum for ages! Now we are going to abandon it just because some old nut job and a self-righteous female scientist tell us so?! What logic is there in this?” The room fell suddenly silent. Jne rolled her eyes crossed her arms and waited for Tkn to relax his angry face. Tkn was not much to look at in the first place and an angry face was just not helping the matter much. “Now if you would just step-down off your layman’s soapbox I will continue with my findings as it is vital to the future of our colony as well as the rest of Dee.” Jne stated matter-of-factly and waited until Tkn made the angry face again acted like he was about to rebuttal the remark looked around the room and finally just sat down. “Now as I was saying-- the decay, as I can prove,” Tkn broke her icy stare by looking down at his hands “...has seeped deep into Dee’s mantle penetrating the Asthenosphere -which you may or may not know is where we dig the raw materials from which our precious serum is made.” At this, as if it were pre-rehearsed Jne’s assistant got up fiddled with a black box and then dimmed the lights. Brightly lit upon the wall appeared a cut away of Dee’s crust.
“To obtain the raw materials for our serum we currently mine approximately 200 km deep through Dee’s Lithosphere into, as I said, the Asthenosphere. The Asthenosphere, so named because it helps aids our weak society, contains a semi-solid molten rock material which when mined and cooled becomes the basis of our serum.” Tkn regaining his air of contempt piped in again “Us laymen are having a problem understanding this Asthosphere-or-whatever, so can you um get to the point?” “The point,” Jne continued “is the As-then-o-sphere has become contaminated and severely threatens our ability to produce a pure serum.” She waited for a reaction from the room – other than the bobbing head of agreement from Vrbra none came, so she attempted to further express the gravity of the grave situation. “In other words, we will not have enough pure serum for everyone to continue into their next life cycle and will probably have none for the following cycle.” Cries of outrage vibrated from the group. “Jne are you sure? I mean I know you have been studying our serum production efforts for some time, but could you be mistaken?” asked Casn. “Of course she is not sure!” accused Tkn, “what proof do you have to support these ludicrous claims?!” “This!” she replied holding above her for all to see, a semi-translucent white rectangle “...is an official correspondent from the Federal Chief Scientist himself confirming the results of my brief sent to him just one week ago.” Suddenly faces beamed with fear-struck eyes and slack jaws. Vrbra continued to bob her head in agreement. “But...” croaked Casn, clearing his terror-stricken throat and restarting, “but that means...” --- “It means,” interrupted Jne firmly, brow hard set and clenched fists “some of us are going to have to die.”
To be continued...
permanent link [Mu Arae]
. . .
“He injects that stuff into our veins and I do not believe that that stuff is what I should have put in me!” bellowed the old hag. “That stuff is inoculating you against the poisons of nature and is probably the only reason you have lived this long!” retorted Casn, “...and what exactly is wrong with that? Other than the fact you have another precious life cycle on Dee,” he finished more to himself than to the group. “Please, please everyone calm down, old Vrbra has a point,” soothed Jne. “With what we are all acquainted with as the decay of Dee, I have proven that we have now entered into a most dangerous epoch for our society...” but before she could finish- “Rubbish! Absolutely rubbish! My family, as well are yours…” he continued, waving his finger around the room “have been taking the life serum for ages! Now we are going to abandon it just because some old nut job and a self-righteous female scientist tell us so?! What logic is there in this?” The room fell suddenly silent. Jne rolled her eyes crossed her arms and waited for Tkn to relax his angry face. Tkn was not much to look at in the first place and an angry face was just not helping the matter much. “Now if you would just step-down off your layman’s soapbox I will continue with my findings as it is vital to the future of our colony as well as the rest of Dee.” Jne stated matter-of-factly and waited until Tkn made the angry face again acted like he was about to rebuttal the remark looked around the room and finally just sat down. “Now as I was saying-- the decay, as I can prove,” Tkn broke her icy stare by looking down at his hands “...has seeped deep into Dee’s mantle penetrating the Asthenosphere -which you may or may not know is where we dig the raw materials from which our precious serum is made.” At this, as if it were pre-rehearsed Jne’s assistant got up fiddled with a black box and then dimmed the lights. Brightly lit upon the wall appeared a cut away of Dee’s crust.
“To obtain the raw materials for our serum we currently mine approximately 200 km deep through Dee’s Lithosphere into, as I said, the Asthenosphere. The Asthenosphere, so named because it helps aids our weak society, contains a semi-solid molten rock material which when mined and cooled becomes the basis of our serum.” Tkn regaining his air of contempt piped in again “Us laymen are having a problem understanding this Asthosphere-or-whatever, so can you um get to the point?” “The point,” Jne continued “is the As-then-o-sphere has become contaminated and severely threatens our ability to produce a pure serum.” She waited for a reaction from the room – other than the bobbing head of agreement from Vrbra none came, so she attempted to further express the gravity of the grave situation. “In other words, we will not have enough pure serum for everyone to continue into their next life cycle and will probably have none for the following cycle.” Cries of outrage vibrated from the group. “Jne are you sure? I mean I know you have been studying our serum production efforts for some time, but could you be mistaken?” asked Casn. “Of course she is not sure!” accused Tkn, “what proof do you have to support these ludicrous claims?!” “This!” she replied holding above her for all to see, a semi-translucent white rectangle “...is an official correspondent from the Federal Chief Scientist himself confirming the results of my brief sent to him just one week ago.” Suddenly faces beamed with fear-struck eyes and slack jaws. Vrbra continued to bob her head in agreement. “But...” croaked Casn, clearing his terror-stricken throat and restarting, “but that means...” --- “It means,” interrupted Jne firmly, brow hard set and clenched fists “some of us are going to have to die.”
To be continued...
permanent link [Mu Arae]APPLESEED the movie
"The year is 2131. A non-nuclear war has left the earth barren. Deunan Knute roams the badlands, one of the many soldiers who, with lines of communication cut, continue to fight, unaware that the war has ended." (a-seed.jp)
More @:
http://www.a-seed.jp/en.html
...now where is that fan-sub?
>||:)
permanent link [APPLESEED the movie]Tuesday, November 30, 2004
The World
Man-made island real estate in the shape of the world:
Dream house
Nice place to build a home isn't it? I prefer a large moving island myself...but
nonetheless:
More @:
The Emirates Network
Eqarat
permanent link [The World]
Dream house
Nice place to build a home isn't it? I prefer a large moving island myself...but
nonetheless:
"Construction of the $1.8 billion 'The World' project from Nakheel Corp has started, with completion set for late 2005. The project sees a cluster of 250 artificial islands, in the shape of countries, coming four kilometres off the shore of Dubai between Burj Al Arab and Port Rashid."
...and how much?
"Each of these islands will then be sold to select private developers, confirmed top Nakheel officials. Details of the sale schedule are yet to be decided, while the islands is expected to have price tags starting at Dh25 million."
Dh25,000,000 = 6,807,537.31 USD
More @:
The Emirates Network
Eqarat
permanent link [The World]Sunday, November 28, 2004
Mobissimo
"Millions of travelers turn to their computers whenever they plot their itineraries. Forrester Research estimates that 29.4 million U.S. households will use the internet to book travel in this calendar year, spending $53 billion in the process." (wired)Mobissimo is a new airfare search engine. More in Wired...
LA to London for Christmas: $771.00
permanent link [Mobissimo]Recent Posts
ariaofcalm 2007 Notebook Hitup New Design optimus prime. I See Skies of Blue and Wireless Fidelity Too... Standing with Giants... New Car for Mom SHHH! Mobile Conversations NASA World Wind
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