Tuesday, December 30, 2003

I love my streetboard.
Dimension Boards
The scene (at least part of it) for streetboarding.
It's time.

Time to prune the links in the link window. A life in continual transition of duplicate states creates a singular mess. Time to consolidate the things I need from the things I need not. I don't care either way. Call it a survival trait. Time is of the essence when you're amidst the set of mid-game states.

A thousand words for your senses. A picture for your troubles. A thought for your money. A penny for your illusions.

Familiarity breeds perceived similarity and comparison. Clarity breeds insight. Both can lead to true and false. But genotypes have ever been more important than phenotypes. Deep down, I have joy and care not for nomenclatures of emotion, trite template personas, and fools of past and future history. You can read the rest.

Ramble on, and fubar at will, commander. The audience has no eyes save those that it gave itself. The screen has ears and a mouth. Thoughts attack the wrenching twists of good, god, glory, and lies, while a paycheck is on the horizon, next to the rainbow. I've never liked the taste of candy canes.

Can you not tell the difference between staccato and legato ? Articulation .

Clarity ? Umm ...

Tuesday, December 23, 2003

So far, so good. I have a B in Trad104 and a B in Math 215 ! I'm now waiting on CS.

Another wonderful googlism :

Type in the word define and then some word you want defined, and google will define that word for you above the other search results, with a source to boot.

Terminator 3 was nowhere near as good as Terminator 2. I would've been more appreciative if the movie hadn't ended halfway through. The chain was left dangling. It's nice that the movie followed a different structure, but I still feel that too much was left out.

Sunday, December 21, 2003

"WHOA HO HO !!! And I thought those mortals were fucked up way back then !" -- Puck.

Saturday, December 20, 2003

Song of the moment: Chromazone by Mike Stern... from his 1988 Time in Place cd.

Friday, December 19, 2003

Finals hit like a whiplash... you know it's going to arrive before it hits, but the wait is almost an eternity. And when it finally hits, it's gone before you can finish blinking ... and you don't even feel the effects till the next morning...
I studied my ass off. I'm certain I got A's in all finals ... not necessarily classes ... except math, because that damned final question was so tricksy ...
(XT is short for "the transpose matrix of matrix X" and Rn can be thought of as a coordinate space of real numbers where n is the number of axes.(Here we assume the plural for axis, not axe. :-D )

If A is an n*n matrix in Rn, and AT = - A, what is the determinant of A if n = 3 ? If n = 4 ?

Dammit, I looked at this question from every angle and could only see ZERO for both answers.

I looked it up in another book and found that such a matrix is called a skew matrix and IF n is odd, then, indeed, the determinant is zero. But it says nothing about the determinant when n is even ! I'll get to the bottom of this shortly !

Update: Jacobi's Theorem explains it all.

It would've been nice to know that one before the test. >:-(

I don't know why my brain skipped out on that when thinking about it with diagonals and what not. Grrr.

Saturday, December 13, 2003

I see Fall Semester Finals. They're everywhere....

"Error: Nothing to post!" ... But how is that an error when you have nothing to say ?

I like this kid.

Amit rules. The "Mr. Wizard" of path-finding and game AI.

Sunir is cool, too.

Monday, December 08, 2003

Here are a few googlisms: ;-D

#1 Type in "failure" at the google search bar and hit "I'm feeling lucky!"
Laugh at what shows up in your window ;-D

#2 Type in "french military victories" and hit "I'm feeling lucky!"
And laugh at the results ;-D (although this one is distasteful.)

#3 Type in "weapons of mass destruction" and hit "I'm feeling lucky !"
Read the message carefully :-D.

Sunday, December 07, 2003

Times change, as people should. With the rise and fall of each year, month, and day, new challenges come at you like a rush of water, soaking you, pushing you, parting around you, and moving on. Why pause there to think about it ? Why not follow their example ? Who among us can disclaim that you are the sum of your actions ? Each new day brings you your sense of time and direction, along with whatever other senses you have been given. Time pushes you down an interconnecting path, as dynamic and unpredictable as electricity. With every person you meet, new cross-streets are visible to you, just as others disappear. The only constant you see is death; the black tunnel that all roads lead to, the other side of which is unknown. With all the twisting paths to explore, and such little time you have, this does not disconcert you: there is nothing that can be done about it, and thus time is naught but wasted thinking upon it.
Life is too short to be spent on foolish/hateful thoughts and empty promises.

I live now. Not five minutes ago. And I have no guarantee that I will live five minutes from now. I have confidence, and I am prepared, but I have no guarantee.

With asteroids from the belt swinging by our planet, solar winds from the sun to wipe away our magnetic protection, and a comet so large that every 3 decades or so, Earth passes through its tail a year after their orbits cross, all it would take to destroy our beautiful planet is a bit of gravitational pull in a bad direction. No collision necessary. Once the world understands this, maybe we'll finally have that “Star Wars” program, but that's neither here nor there. These are but a pair of many things that could make or break our lives.

Stop your lamenting, stop your guilt trips, stop your finger-pointing, stop your bickering, stop your manipulating, stop your lying, stop your cheating, stop your stealing, stop all of the bullshit. There just isn't time to do these things lest both life and its purpose wait in vain for your discovery.

Take a fucking chill pill, have some fun, and get over yourself.

Thursday, December 04, 2003

This is my first truly opinionated nothing in a very long time, so expect crap and a lot more of it:

*tap tap tap tap*
My sister smiles at me. "Stop it," she says. The glow from the TV illuminates her face like a spotlight.
I smile back at her. "Fuck off."
Harsh words. I'm fond of them. My friends tell me I've singlehandedly given the expression "sheeyit" a joyous connotation for them -- I always say it with a smile.

*tap tap tap tap*

I don't mean it, of course - my sister knows this, though; I just love rhythm. The music stops and starts, yet the beat can continue anywhere, anytime. And yes, I did stop for her, btw. It can be so annoying when you're watching tv to have someone tap on something . Seemingly hyperactive tendencies such as this one actually help soothe my mind. Thus I sit here in front of my monitor, tapping my thighs, tapping the keyboard, stalling my homework: if I wait patiently enough, the answers might just appear on the page for me. As of the past 2.6 hours, the only markings are blue horizontal lines -- but those were there to begin with. I am the goalie who picks daisies while the opposing team scores.
I can't understand why of all my choices, that I decided upon Computer Science as a major. Well, that's partially true ... I know my fate was sealed when my eyes first came across 4 people playing doom in a high school computer lab.
Back to the future - I look at my math homework now, and it's all gibberish to me. It isn't hard ... but it ain't that easy, either. As always, I know that upon reading Chapter [blah], everything will fall into order as miraculously as sorting a deck of cards by playing 52-pickup. Somehow, that statement alone has been the mantra that got me from high school to this point, relatively unscathed, if you don't count the # of times that the thread should've snapped ... y'know ... the one holding Damocles' sword ? You get better at dodging that way, anyway. Well, if it's his sword, then it might as well have been mine.
I thank god, my ancestors, and those who watch over me, that my writing skills have not diminished ... though as you can all tell, they are old and rusty. I'm not concerned, since I know they always polish well.
Times like these often force me to think of those who watch over me. I shouldn't ever forget about them. I'm not religious in the sense of some pre-packaged view ... but I still believe that there are beings in my corner of the universe who want to help me out ... and I'm calling upon them now to set some heavy action in motion, and help me ! Knowing me, I'm hoping they don't say, "It isn't hard ... but it ain't that easy, either. As always, I know that upon reading Chapter [blah], everything will fall into order." But better that than nothing at all :-D
Ock. It's Ten O'clock, and my rambling is incomplete. But I care not for the ramble so much as the exercise. Have fun, y'all. Maybe I'll get better at this, and maybe I won't. But I'll have fun doing so. :-)

Tuesday, December 02, 2003

Never skateboard or snakeboard with hard metal things in your pockets.

Monday, December 01, 2003

Journal entries will come later.

Blatantly obvious revelation : people love emotions.

They love 'em. Of course, on the surface, you might think,
"How, in any sane mind, could that ever make sense ?!"
Who the hell wants to feel like shit ?!

Well that's the problem : people tend to associate feelings as the results of events ... and that's perfectly reasonable, in usual circumstances, but when large-scale events happen, you leave yourself open to danger: the difference between sanity and insanity can often be just a matter of events (I heard that from the Cowboy Bebop Movie :-p -- I just love that quote)

Everyone at some point in time think they've got it worse, (and sometimes better) than others . You're comparing yourself to these others DUE TO THE FACT THAT YOU SEE THEM IN THAT LIGHT ! And you could be 100% right. But there are always hundreds of thousands who are worse off than you or the subject of your emotions, and many who are better off. When will that ever change ? There is no race. There is no competition save for the ones that you create in your own mind.
People often have too little information to even attempt to judge another's life. It is funny then, that so many people will assume they know you after a total of only a few actual hours of contact.

So really, if feeling depressed or angry was something people want to avoid (clinical manifestations aside), then why do they jump at the opportunity to feel that way when things go wrong ? For the same reason they associate emotions with events ? It doesn't feel right ? You'd be cheating yourself ? You'd be cheating others ? Others would think less of you ? Because you can ? Because it's so awful and so many horrible, horrible things have happened that you must obsess on them ?

Because it hurts ?

Then why feel that way ? The world does not stop for you. If you know what happens tomorrow... if you're somehow sure your life will not end tomorrow, that your time is not being wasted, or that you're immortal, or that the afterlife awaits you in benefit, then by all means, go ahead and feel like shit. I know it hurts. I would be a complete ass if I were to think that anyone could just rise up out of the pits of hell, oblivious to their current situation, especially if they're still deeply lost and tangled within the web of fate.

But I can't think of any other reason.

I don't know the answers. I know myself.

As far as I can tell it hasn't ever helped the situation for me ... :-D I just felt a lot worse.

And yet, why is there this compelling want to feel sorry for oneself ?

Feeling angry is the same way ... some people jump at the opportunity to be angry !
It's a favorite emotion for some people !

I'll stick to the ones I like best.


A more dangerous route which is unfortunately alike this one is to run from your emotions. To not acknowledge them, surpressing them rather than dealing with them. They will catch up with you ... if something else doesn't first.
Don't supress them, but don't feed them, either.