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Saturday, March 30, 2002
1:33 PMpoker bbq
Have a poker game tonight, the fourth annual Lucky Pokerfest. Named after Lucky, the host's dog. I ususally do pretty well at these, lets hope it continues.
Pictures from last year.
Friday, March 29, 2002
11:15 PM
Hour 25
Realize you can't sleep. Play some more Snood.
6:39 PM
The Train to the Moon
I have always been fascinated by Space Elevators but I would really love to see a full write up of the physics involved, and definitely a full computer sim. I really want to know how the weather, cross winds, severe weather, temperature variants in the atmosphere, would affect the stability of it. On a large scale it seems possible, on a large simplified scale it seems almost too easy, but nothing is ever that simple.
Other links:
Space Elevator: Next Stop, Earth Orbit
NASA MSFC Space Elevator Concept
TechTV: Space Elevator Gets Lift
And the most comprehensive, the one that I will be reading as soon as I can print it.
The Space Elevator by Bradley C. Edwards. (PDF document)
(original link from Daypop all else through Google)
Tuesday, March 26, 2002
6:09 PM
it just might happen to you too
I am sorry to disturb you, but it is a known fact that you will meet your maker.
You currently suffer from a few ailments, some sins, and a few smirches on your name.
We can't do anything to help you at all. If you wish to shorten this list there are a few houses of worship that we may be able to introduce you to. They may help, they may bilk you, they may comfort or threaten but they are there and are much more suited to eradicating or diminishing your wicked past.
But if you are like us, and you think that the chain of misgivings and faults is not long enough then join us, we will be celebrating this evening at a little pub, we will then move onwards to another, and then another until we have forgotten all that is dear and true.
Join us and free your liver from health.
Monday, March 25, 2002
11:23 PM
she is benediction
Filled another gaping hole in the cd collection. Patti Smith "Land (1975-2002)". Should have filled it 15 years ago.
I have a love and hate relationship with Compilation albums. Some are great, some are just rehash. The good ones, IMHO, are the ones that don't fill your need. The need of actually buying the actual full LPs. The good ones, like LAND, make you want to go out and buy all the CDs, so that you have all the stuff that is in between. The good ones give you the SONGS, and they also give you something special, something that you can only have here. The only real reason I bought the most recent Cure complilation (Greatest Hits) was the fact that there was a second cd with all acoustic tracks, that just kicks ass. I still wish that they would release the Unplugged Cure show on CD or DVD. Bad compilations are those compilations that actually fill your need to buy more albums. These are the ones that give you just what you wanted, those few songs that you love without having to go out and buy the whole discography. (Of course in some cases there is no problem with that. Do I contradict?)
Well LAND makes me want to go out and search Nuggets and CD Spins and find Horses and Easter.
Friday, March 22, 2002
11:30 PM
.org
Been thinking about cutillo.org these past few minutes. I have always had plans for this domain, I just never sat down and worked on them. Some ideas flowing and just sketched some quick views of those ideas on paper. I work better with paper. Ideas first, construction second, that is when I get around to the actual brick laying. I think that I will start the code for this soon. Looks like I will be dropping my latest paycheck to fund this all. That doesn't bother me, what bothers me is making it right. Making it work. This in affect, in the end, a homage to my father, and to my family. More so to dad. I want it to be alive and not just some stagnant dead end in the sentimental corner of the web. I want my brothers and sisters to interact. I want my father's friends and co-workers and brothers and students and players to come and share their thoughts, their memories. That part is easy, my father had great impact. I just have to pour the foundation and buy the cabinets.
6:45 PM
Daypop Dreams
The Social Life Of Paper, or so that is why my desk is such a mess. This is a really excellent article.
What do you get when you mix Google, Dianetics and Clams? A lot of links.
I'd rather just delete my spam, thank you very much. But then again maybe I can dance to it instead.
The Magnetic North Pole is sick of the cold, dark, and bleak land of Canada. Mayhap it wants the warmth of the south, it hasn't visited in some time, the south misses its old friend.
And something that has at least an inkling of what I want to do with the rest of my life, Russian Moon Rocket. Now the Russians make damn good rockets but they must have shot all the good engineers before they started the design of this baby. 30 first stage engines! ugh. Wish there was a link to the actual site that has the original photos.
Thank you, oh great and powerful Daypop, for keeping me in the know. I will now sacrifice 3 floppy disks and one PASCAL program for your pleasure.
Thursday, March 21, 2002
5:29 PM
Hey Sherlock, launder this money for me.
"Morgenthau said the prostitutes were getting as much $650 a pop for sex in fancy Manhattan hotel rooms while Nastasi laundered his profits by writing checks to fictional detectives like Barnaby Jones, Charlie Chan and Nero Wolfe."
Wednesday, March 20, 2002
8:33 PM
Nuclear Strike on my house
Well if we ever accidently let a terrorist move into my house, and he/she decides to build a low yield nuclear device, 1 Megaton, and then sets it off, this would be the damage and fallout. Find out how it would affect your city/town. thanks to Zito for the link
6:33 PM
Odd Little Things That Mean Nothing Now
No matter how bad your weekend was, mine wasn't so hot, it could have been worse.
Large icebergs mean larger Titanics. Or is that a bad analogy?
Bad idea, cool colors.
Reasons why I just love Public Radio. But where is Nero?
Links due to excess use of blogdex
Tuesday, March 19, 2002
12:05 PM
Train 172 - Business Class
As I sit here, heading North towards Boston, listening to some great jazz, reading about Vietnam, admiring the Ti-Book of the gentleman next to me, eating peanuts, drinking peach iced tea, I smile, knowing that this is the civilized way to travel.
Friday, March 15, 2002
9:00 PM
a child's dreams
When I was young I used to have these huge epic adventures in my head. Fantasies that revolved around me and my friends and those things that we liked to do.
I made these plans for an epic fort. Something I knew that I could never build, but it added reality to the dreams. It was slightly based on the Pit, the secret underground GI Joe fortress. The Pit was located underneath a military motor pool on Staten Island. I based it on that, but more on a scale that if money were no object I could build. Our's was to be located next to my parent's garage, between its western wall and the fence of our next-door neighbor. It would be 7 feet deep, lined with cinder blocks. It would have 2 or 3 rooms, and a small armory. The armory was really a PVC pipe that would go straight up and be used to fire bottle rockets, either as weapons or as a SOS. It would have a periscope that would be able to look about and make sure that the “enemy” wasn’t near. It would also be used to make sure that the escape route, a tunnel to Christian Adamson’s house was free and clear.
It originally was to be the secret command post. With nothing above it, if you saw it, it would just be a dirt side yard. But later I planned a garage, a kid’s sized garage to go over it. This garage would have the secret entrance to the underground lair, would house our bicycles and our vehicle.
The vehicle was a souped up go-cart that my friend Michael Weller and I would talk about. (He was one of the 4 Michael’s in my grade school, we all called each other by last name. It was easier.) It would be a mini car. 4 doors, a roof and a full body. It would have 2 seats and a cooler for our sodas and Snapples in the back. The cool thing would be that the cars would have interchangeable tops. We could suit it up like a cop car or a Ferrari or the VAMP. Weller would also have one, and we would both have a semi-go-cart to carry them around in.
In the daydreams we always won these go-carts. There would be some contest in Boys Life or a comic that we would enter and win. We all would win. Us and all of our friends. We would have a mini village that we would live in and patrol, and race and all that adult stuff, but fun and now.
Mike wanted to be a racecar driver. I said that I would be his crew chief. We would win Daytona. It was just a dream. It hasn’t come true, but it was fun. In High School we started to drift apart. In later years we finally did. A couple of years ago we bumped into each other during Thanksgiving weekend at Mustang Sally’s. He was with the old gang. We have stayed in touch by email and went to our 10-year reunion in one of his father’s limos.
...
Mike’s father passed away on Thursday morning.
I don’t know what to say except “Mike I am sorry”.
7:04 PM
i-yes
The more I read the more I really want an i-book. Just need to justify the expense. I think I can still get an educational priced one.
6:50 PM
?domain?
Something is up with blogger. Had to do some moving around just to get here.
Wednesday, March 13, 2002
8:50 PM
Daisies
I just love this picture. Nikon should find out how this camera "works" and add the process as a special function on all their cameras. I think I'll go drop my crappy digital camera in the Charles.
7:16 PM
15 minutes
Only a quarter of an hour til I am free.
Tuesday, March 12, 2002
6:10 PM
Enjoy
I sit here, reading this article, drinking the drink that consumes my life, and I am happy, and awake.
Monday, March 11, 2002
12:04 PM
Light a candle tonight
9:03 AM
Remembrance
I was late. I was on Storrow drive. I was not paying attention. I didn't get to work for another 10 minutes.
When a coworker told me I thought that he was telling a bad joke.
I wish it was.
My cousin was hit by debris while exiting the subway. He ran until he got to the East River. He was ok.
Keith and Rob were both on vacation and so not in the city.
My family was ok. My friends were ok.
A former classmate from High School is dead. Joe Corbett.
I will light a candle later tonight in memory of all those who perished.
8:45 AM
Silence
I was online, trying to make sure that my sisters laptop was going to arrive ontime. I didn't check any news sources. I was running late for work. I was in a hurry. I didn't listen to the news in the car like I normally do. I didn't turn the radio on. I just drove into work.
Sunday, March 10, 2002
12:40 PM
Cleaning Spring I do
So I decided to clean my room. Now I am always cleaning my room because I don't upkeep it. The day after I clean it it starts to get really messy again. So I decided that I needed to get rid of all the crap that I have.
I can't.
I like my crap. I have a million and one reasons why I should keep the shirts and jackets and bags that I have. So what if I haven't touched some of them in 6 years. There is that odd chance that I may have to use it in the next 10 to 15 years. Then what will I do if I had thrown it out. I'd be lost without it.
I just found 2 boxes of stuff from when I moved back to Boston. Filled to the top with desk supplies and random pieces of paper. Magazines and Newspaper articles. I can't figure out what I expected to do with half of the stuff but don't want to throw it out cause I might figure that out tomorrow.
I need help. Is there a Packrats Anonymous?
Friday, March 08, 2002
7:16 PM
daypop whore
I am addicted to daypop. I am sitting here starving. I need some food. But daypop calls me. Daypop is whispering in my ears, "40 sites. 40 sites." I must read, I must look, I must laugh, I must blog, I must keep the infernal machine running. I must not masturbate.
Damn you, you dirty daypop.
5:06 PM
Ms. Mallard's Car
"In the arrest affidavit, Ms. Mallard told police that after she returned home, she 'sat there and cried and kept telling the white male that was sticking though her windshield that she was sorry.'
Ms. Mallard also told police that 'she does not know how long it took the man to die, [because] she quit going out into the garage,' the affidavit states." by way of NextDraft
Sunday, March 03, 2002
12:50 AM
XTC
Currently listening to: Skylarking
Currently wondering: Why did I drink that 15 year old scotch last night.
Currently ignoring: The pile of laundry that seems to be nearing cognitive development.
Currently wishing: That I had next week off just like my boss and 2 co-workers, who are all in Florida. Bastards.
Currently scheming: How to get another free car out of my relatives.
Currently expiring: The fern that I got from Guilio.
Currently missing: Bridget, Bridgid, Jake, Andrew, Lisa, Lyndon and Justin. I really should try and keep in touch with these people more often. Really. If you are any of these people: Hi there, how are you?
Currently hating: This whole idea.
"The man who sailed around his soul,
came back again to find a hole..."
Friday, March 01, 2002
7:15 PM
Short Simple Stories
I once had a pet hamster. He sat in his cage and played with the wheel. He was a great hamster. He would bite the hands of my siblings. He would piss in their hands. He was a great hamster.
One night I woke and he was having this conversation with the squirrel in the wall. They were discussing the pros and cons of noiseless typewriters. The squirrel hated noiseless typewriters. He liked the clatter and clinking of his old underwood. He felt that he needed the sound in order to write his works. My hamster was more of a pen and paper type of rodent. He had this unfortunate urge to shred his works into bedding and none of his earlier work survives. Squirrel couldn't write without his typewriter. They were drinking from the special hamster water bottle that had the seven year old scotch. They were a little tipsy and so paid me no heed. I was tired and fell asleep.
In the morning my sister flushed the hamster down the toilet. I threw pennies at her in a rage. Later I searched for what remained of the writings. My only bestseller. He was a great hamster.
