ajf a

-Dream journal quote: "(who must be snowmen but act like sentient cucumbers)," 12/27-

As you can no doubt guess, I had some unusual dreams this past week. While last night's directing-a-snowboy-through-WoW-and-the-local-grocery-store was certainly the one I remembered in most detail (and included some shadows of lucidity at the end), my favorite dream this week was the one in which a dragon burst out from behind a sphinx-like monolith and chased me from the roof of the building I was in. I knew I could kill it by striking one of the bells on a small wooden block I was carrying, but of course the clappers were getting stuck. The other night of note was when I managed to have two remembered dreams... the irony being that I was my normal gender in one, and the complete opposite (as well as a different age) in the other.

Well, I went on one of those Wikipedia jaunts that I'm sure everyone is familiar with: you'll see some interesting topic somewhere and be directed to its Wikipedia article... only to spend hours looking down the chain of related articles at other concepts.

Somehow, the other day I got to the article on wavefunction collapse. I realize that phrase in itself sounds rather dull, but I'll try to explain what bizarre implications it has in a way both you and I can vaguely understand.

Begin with a wave. Now, in normal conversation waves refer to very specific things, such as ocean waves or perhaps sound waves, but when we get right down to the atomic level, we realize that EVERYTHING is a wave. This is called wave-particle duality. There are a couple of equations that deal with this, but suffice to say that larger objects (i.e. the things we can see) tend to have little in the way of wavelike properties (they don't scatter, they have a fairly definite location, etc.), while very small objects such as electrons and other elementary particles can exhibit behaviors we don't normally associate with particles.

This is why, for instance, you may have heard of the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle for electrons. The principle basically states that it is impossible to know both the location and momentum of an electron with precision at the same time. Well, part of the reason this principle exists is that it's very hard to measure the "position" of an object whose properties are very much like a wave's! After all, it's rather meaningless to measure the position of a wave going up and down on a horizontal string. Perhaps the individual humps and valleys have positions, but the overall wave, if you've been bouncing the string for some time, really has no definite position at all.

Anyway, there are a good lot of strange subatomic particles besides the electron, and the very small ones, of course, still have that wave nature. But of course, if they were just wave/particle chimeras, they could not possibly be confusing enough to belong in the quantum mechanical zoo. No, these waves (I will call them waves from here on) also have the magical, counterintuitive ability to exist in more than one state at once. What I mean by this is, suppose you had a large ball, representing a subatomic wave of some sort. Now say it can exist in two solid colors (no stripes, spots, or blotches), red or green... but keep in mind that it can exist in these two colors simultaneously. The solid colors represent the different states of the wavefunction you're modelling. Obviously this demonstration wouldn't work too well in real life, which is what makes quantum mechanics so brilliantly fun.

The real fun comes with wave collapse. Bear in mind this is by no means the final word on the subject (in science, nothing is ever final anyway), but one of the leading explanations today for behavior that we've seen in these waves is that as soon as they are observed, the waves immediately settle into ONE of their possible states. So in other words, in the ball demonstration, it is as if the ball suddenly "chooses" either solid red or green as soon as you look at it!

The natural question here is, how in the world do we know that the waves exist in multiple states when unobserved, if observing them makes them collapse? The answer, as far as I can tell from my meager formal education in quantum mechanics, is that we don't. It's just that there are few better explanations for how the waves seem to have a random state as soon as we measure them. Also, the equations predict it... one thing you must get used to when speaking of theoretical physics is having the math prove the principle nearly as much as the other way around.

At any rate, go chew on the implications of wavefunction collapse for a while.

Reality check. Any physicists reading this, wincing, are welcome to correct any errors -- I tried to put it in laymen's terms as far as possible, so some accuracy may have dribbled into the gutters.

, aq

-Power strip quote: "WARNING: In order to properly protect your phone/fax/modem follow these steps:"-

This past week was a very interesting one dreamwise, seeing as I'm now finally getting abundant amounts of sleep. Let's see. I had a false awakening dream that sort of evolved into musings about the "dream paralysis" phenomenon, and how it could be used for nefarious purposes. I had another dream in which I discovered that fairies wear knitted dresses and also spent a long time thinking about those clocks that wind themselves up by fluctuations in atmospheric pressure. The next night, I had a dream where I died (once again disproving the idea that you die in real life if you die in a dream), yet mysteriously ended up in merely a whitened version of my childhood house, which cannot possibly be accurate. Finally, last night I dreamt that I was driving to an airport using arrow keys somehow, but as I was in third person perspective as usual, I was having trouble controlling the car smoothly due to the fact that the "camera" wasn't tracking it very well over hills. I made it to the parking area just fine, but a policeman asked for my license shortly after I stopped.

In my patterings around the Internet this past week, I happened upon a rather well-thought-out chatterbot. A chatterbot is a program that humans can chat with (often online) that aims to replicate human speech patterns in such a way as to be indistinguishable from a REAL person chatting. So far this has not been fully accomplished, as can be deduced by the fact that no AI system has yet passed the Turing test.

However, chatbots can be awfully fun to mess with, especially when the coders obviously did not think many conversations through at all. Many of the bots have ridiculously simple reply algorithms that lead them to respond to only one key word in your statement, even if the sentence as a whole had nothing to do with it. For instance, if the chatbot says something confusing, you may say "I'm sorry, I don't understand" and the bot will respond with "Apology accepted," or something equally inappropriate.

Anyway, the thrill of these chatbots is usually short-lived, as the conversation gradually degrades to total confusion on both sides. That is, until I found Jabberwacky. I'm not sure what makes the actual program different from the other bots, but I've found that I can have a much more glitch-free (though by no means perfect) conversation with Jab. The only thing that's consistently a problem with this particular chatbot is how WELL he imitates humans. Meaning that he will often accuse me of being a robot, while staunchly defending his own imagined humanity, much as the people conversing with him probably do. Also, he's a lot more abrupt and curt than a normal person, given that people are not quite so polite to something they know is not actually offended by lack of courtesy.

This of course made me think of the perfect idea for a chatbot. Instead of making it obvious to the humans that they are conversing with a bot, introduce the chatbot to a normal chat room (where people are told they are being observed but are randomly matched with either people or bot) under different names. Have it watch the human-to-human (e.g. normal) conversations a lot and only occasionally be paired with a human, without announcing the fact that he is any different. Obviously at the beginning he would be fairly awkward and noticeable, but if he always assumed a different name, he might eventually be able to talk for quite some time with someone before they started treating him as a robot.

This scheme would have the added advantage of making people come back again and again because they'd never quite be sure whether they got a chance to speak with the bot. It would make an interesting hook.

Reality check. Brought to you by Blogbot 4.0

7tq 7tq

-Bulletin quote: "1805 Washington Avenue, Golden, CO, 80401"-

I did remember a dream in detail this past week (amazing!). However, it really doesn't make sense. I was I suppose in some sort of "meatspace" game that involved a lot of blue and yellow makeup (which is in itself interesting since the dominant color in my dreams is generally a sandy red). When I asked the vendor -- wisely, AFTER putting blue stuff all over my cuticles -- if it was machine/water washable, she said that the version of the game I was playing didn't have that feature yet! Indeed!

I have had a very unusual life story, I suppose. The long and short of it that you need to know to understand this blog post is as follows:

1) When I was young, I chose to be antisocial. This was probably mostly because I saw all those kid's TV shows where the social kid is portrayed as obsessed with fitting in and is NEVER the brain. I decided I didn't want to give up intelligence for "friends", and stayed in close contact with only a couple.

2) As I got older, I still avoided "friends" to a large extent, but more and more simply because I couldn't relate to them at all. Since I had already thrown fitting in into the wind, I had no interests in what they were interested in. What I was interested in, no one else was, and because my interests were intellectual, it sounded like bragging or was just plain "boring school stuff" when I spoke of them.

3) At this age, I've finally found a mother lode of people who I can relate to, who I can talk to about math and science without feeling like everything I say goes whoosh as it passes over their heads.

So now you know. Onto the post then.

Finding people I could talk to was amazing at first. I couldn't believe so many existed. I was now ready to integrate fully into the social network -- this network was worth it. But then some issues arose. First, there is the small matter that most people are somewhat late sleepers and risers, whereas I am not. Well and good, I've adjusted fairly well to a bit less sleep. Then comes the second problem. Most of these people grew up in much... how shall I say it... nerdier circles than I. Which means that they did not instantly equate sociability with selling out, which means they have many of the interests of the common man. Such as movies. Now, movies, I must admit, have some value, more than I attributed to them, certainly. But still, there is a general trend among movies to include slightly more language and suggestive situations than the average (good-quality) book. Which makes me wonder if perhaps I'm selling out, in some small way, after all.

Finally, there is the matter of the nerd-killers. These are people that I and my fellow-nerds know and spend time with who are wonderful people, but who often put the ixnay on geeking out. The worst thing is that they are intelligent, hardworking people too... they just don't have the joy for learning and discovering that the rest of us have. So as long as they do not need to hold onto the information, they do not want to hear about it. And that makes me sad, because I have waited so long to find a group of people that I could always talk to about this sort of thing, only to find that sometimes we just can't.

Reality check. I still wonder... why blue and yellow this time?

nmqt ,

-Loncapa quote: "Kinematics with Calculus"-

The most interesting dream I had this week would probably have been the one where I was back in Earth Science class and the assignment was dressing up as 3 different dinosaurs.

I think I may have found one of the few instances where greater accuracy is more tactful. Specifically, I'm talking about those awkward moments when you say something that was intended to be witty, but phrase it just a little bit wrong. This, of course, leads immediately to the response, "What the heek, man? That was so mean!"

Now, there are two cases, from the point of view of the person who just corrected your social faux pas.

Case 1: The statement is actually false -- the person had no spiteful intentions. Now, they feel shocked and horrible about themselves, because your statement came out of the blue for them.

Case 2: The statement is true. They really were intending to hurt the other party, and are glad you emphasized this point.

Simple common sense tells us that case 1 is true much, much more often. And even if case 2 is correct, do we really want to be encouraging mean-spiritedness by acknowledging it, just as the person wants?

I propose that we switch from the possibly incorrect statement "That was mean" (and other statements of that sort), to "That sounded mean." This gives case 1 people a way out, and makes case 2 people's intentions only that much more obvious when they do not take it.

Reality check.  Also, we've had yet more snow here. I still haven't tired of it.

mntmq7

-Slogan quote: "The sweetest way to eat a cranberry," Craisins package-

I had a fairly involved dream last night, of which I remember next to nothing. Let's see, I also had a dream sometime in the past week which involved a highly absorbent shower curtain, probably a symptom of fighting with a shower curtain the day before (and losing miserably).

Well, a happy belated Thanksgiving to all... yes, even those in countries that do not celebrate Thanksgiving. I'm certainly thankful to have another round of snow here, this time even deeper than before (I'm sure the natives still don't consider this a proper snowfall, but I do. Hmph), as well as some friends that made certain I wouldn't spend Thanksgiving day being my usual reclusive self.

I'm feeling like I should do another storytime, perhaps. Unfortunately, I don't think I'd consider this quite kid-friendly, so parents, continue at your discretion. Also, this happens to be another gloomy one, as you could probably guess by the title. Rest assured I don't actually have such a depressing outlook on life... it's just that gloominess is often more interesting to write.

The Queen's Lament

I never could have known I would be a queen. That is what the brave one would tell me, so that is what I will tell myself.

It's not true. I was born in the same litter as the quiet one and the brave one and the others. The males, none of them did work, ever, but the females did. My litter sisters and I could never quite keep up, so we stayed with the males.

I remember once, when I was still trying to be with the females, they were ignoring me. I finally ignored them too, until the line reached the door to the outside. Then, then! They stopped ignoring me, and indeed they picked me up and carried me home.

The brave one told me to bite them next time, and I wanted to. The brave one saw this, and he told me again. He couldn't bite them himself, for they watched him more closely than I. As if he would blow away. As if all the males could blow away. He never let his confinement turn into anger; his thoughts of violence were thoughts that pleased me, so he cultured them.

I remember then that the quiet one spoke. He spoke only one thought, and it was "Patience." He stopped at that, for he was tired. In fact, the brave one was tired too, for the males had less strength than even my litter sisters. I always thought that they didn't try hard enough, that they saw no males at work, that at least the females tried. But the next thought would be that they did look tired.

I remember next when the two found out about their lives. Perhaps they knew before, and they only hid it from me. I had been speaking with an old queen, asking about how it felt to have eggs inside. I did not know then that I was a young queen -- she did not tell me either. She did tell me that she had lived for many, many years, and all at once I wanted to be a queen. She said she had outlived all the others, and this I told to the brave one and the quiet one.

The next day, the brave one told me that he would live for a short time. I asked him how he knew, and he said there were no old males to speak to. That he had himself spoken to a queen, and the queen had told him the truth. The quiet one interrupted him then. He asked how he had made it to a queen, with so many around? When there were so many around, watching lest any fragile males leave their protection?

This tired them both, and a worker hustled me away. I asked the queens and one had an answer. A male had come, but it was the quiet one. She had told him the truth. Oh, yes, the truth. The truth that queens are the death of males. That the queens and the males dance in the sky, that the queens fly home laden with the  gift of one. That the male falls to the ground and his scent fades. The truth that in a short time, I would be a queen.

When I spoke to the litter brothers, to the quiet one and the brave, the brave one offered. He said that his life fulfillment lay with me, and then his life would end well. The quiet one said nothing, and he seemed frightened, though he must have known. They both ate well that night, and indeed I hungered too.

As our wings grew, so did our strength. I stayed from them, by both instinct and mind. By instinct, but not mind, I rose and flew, and they rose on that day and followed me. The brave one approached me first, and he pleaded with me not to let his life go to waste. He said that there were so many things that could kill him, once he returned to the nest, and that if he never finished the flight and died alive, he would die later dead, with the flight unfinished. The time of the dance had made him strong, for a short time. His dance was precise, and my instinct slavered. But my mind told me to hold. I could not be the death of him.

Then the quiet one came to my other side. He too danced a dance, and though he said nothing, I could tell his desire was greater than the brave one's, and too that he would make a fitter sacrifice, for his flight throbbed in me harder. I also knew that I could even less be the death of him, for his new boldness caught and held me like food.

So I flew on, and they flew to each side. I knew that I had to pick one, then. That I could not choose my lesser brothers, but only one of these two. The first I could not bear to kill, but to slay the second would be to tear out my senses. The first I had thought I could choose, and save the other, but to take the token of the first was repulsive to instinct when one worthier than he flew beside me.

At last I accepted an offer. The male I turned to billowed in victory; I assume that the other flew off silently, for my instinct narrowed onto the one. Our flights merged and fell into intricacies that drained the energy with which he had filled his stomach. His wings twitched as he left, as he left and fell. He fell dead, but I flew with fullness. I returned to the nest and to the comfort of the birthing den. I looked for my other brother, the one I refused, but his coming spun later and later.

I waited, oh, I waited. In time there came a file of workers with the field of empty males. I saw many on the backs of the workers, but living males I did not see. A gap came in the line, time passed. Then the workers came burdened again, not all at once. And I saw that the old queen had not told me the whole truth.

Reality check. I'm sure I took some artistic license with ant biology/consciousness/social structure in that... oh well. And I should probably mention that this tale is somewhat unintentionally heavily influenced by Julie E. Czerneda's Trade Pact Universe series, as well as Frank Stockton's "The Discourager of Hesitancy".

jfmq

-Geologist quote: "The energy required to create a rampart crater at the equator is obviously much greater."-

Nothing particularly memorable on the dream front, again. I plan to get more sleep next week, however, which may help.

I wonder what children would be like if we didn't build unrealistic expectations into them about good deeds -- if we told them that doing the right thing would occasionally result in lack of gratitude (on the part of the person helped), loneliness, and other negative states WITHOUT some sort of compensation in the long run -- very much unlike every children's book, which will sometimes include the short term alienation, but always sneaks in some sort of reward if the kid is just patient enough.

What kind of ethos is this? Do good, because if you wait long enough, you'll get stuff? Yes, often there is a reward eventually for this sort of thing, but I don't think it's a good idea to frame this as the reason for doing the deed, which is how it generally comes across, if only in an implied fashion. Children learn quickly -- even if the main character has pure motives, all the kid notices is Aha, this is why I do good things! It's like a trade where I put something in, then get something back eventually. As soon as I help someone out, they or humanity at large owes me.

Reality check. This is also the reason I dislike the current trend of requiring students to do community service to graduate -- the motivation shifts from "I'm volunteering" to "I do this BECAUSE I'm required to."

amnnqta

-Obvious quote: "I'll just let what you're saying speak for itself."-

No dreams this week that I remember with enough detail to report. Someday, perhaps, I will get enough sleep to be able to remember dreams again -- it requires a good deal of sleep.

So, here is where the fact that I'm not in the Great Domesticated Desert of Doom^TM sets in. By which I mean Colorado had its first real snow of the season yesterday. I proceeded to spend the entire day detouring off the snowless pathways into the snowy grass and generally jumping around like a little child. After all, I have to make up for an entire childhood without snow.

I discovered several things about snow yesterday. One was that even though snow looks white and fluffy and soft, if you try to pick it up without gloves or mittens on, your hands get really, really cold. Also, if you do use gloves and they aren't waterproof, they instantly get soaked the moment you return to the indoors and all the caked-on snow melts.

I also now understand what people mean when they talk about different kinds of snow, and that the kind known as "powdery" doesn't stick together very well. I made the first snow angel of my life, yesterday.

Reality check. In this particular case, there is no way that dreaming about snow could come close to finally, finally experiencing it.

7 7t

-Sticker quote: "I Voted"-

I didn't have any memorable dreams this past week... or I did, but forgot them. Which I guess would make them non-memorable.

We know people have an odd herd mentality, but sometimes I don't think it fully sinks in how very strange of a herd mentality it is.

The example that struck me this past week was humans' odd tendency to be always recruiting new members for clubs or organizations. Yet, almost universally, new members would (at least temporarily) decrease the supplies available to all members as they are welcomed and graciously given loaner gear, perhaps, or at the very least some sort of newcomer's gift. Yes, perhaps the new member would bring in more dues, but would this not be outweighed by the fact that the benefits of the dues are now spread to another member?

You will probably now notice yourself saying, Why, of course a club wants new members! It... They...

Precisely what benefit does having more members provide? Camaraderie? More minds? Slightly more donations, if perhaps the club is charitably inclined? Or is it just the thrill of convincing other people to do what you do?

Reality check. This seems the appropriate place to plug SCA. You all should join!!!

nmqt

-Geologist quote: "That kills petroleum", on the flaw in using plastic instead of paper so one does not kill trees-

Again the most interesting dream I had this week was last night's. I was a sophomore in college, for some reason touring another college (which would have made no sense to junior transfer to, since it was a liberal arts school and the college I was currently at was an awesome engineering school) which coincidentally had exactly the same rooms as my "current" college had, except they were larger, laid out differently, and had different names. But trust me, these were the same rooms -- dream intuition said so.

As anticipated, the seasons here in Colorado have some characteristics absent from Great Domesticated Desert of Doom^TM seasons. For one, their existence.

Also snow, which so far has been rather light and none too permanent, and also -- to my untrained eyes -- almost indistinguishable from rain. Be it said that most of the snowfalls have been at night, so the lighting is poor... but even then, it's obvious I've never seen the stuff fall out of the sky before. All the times I'd seen it before, the snow was already sitting on the ground because I went somewhere with snow on it. Snow does not come to me. Except in Colorado.

Autumn leaf fall is just as spectacular as the poets say. I'm used to having maybe one tree on my street that drops leaves, and in that case they sort of turn muckish-brownish-yellow and kind of just lie on the sidewalk. Here, of course, I can actually watch leaves turn bright red and real buttery yellow, then make their little stampedes across the street when the wind flicks them around and around.

Speaking of wind... that's one thing that's surprised me. There is so little of it compared to GDDoD levels that I can actually go around in short sleeves in numerical temperatures I thought would be cripplingly cold. So far I haven't had any day that's felt colder than anything I've experienced before, which is startling. I really expected to be frozen solid by this time of the year.

On the other hand, it is only fall, although the weather appears wintery to me. Perhaps that's why I don't feel it's any colder -- I have just so fully convinced myself that it's actually winter that the temperatures are a bit more acceptable.

I hear in winter it'll start getting into single or negative digits of Farenheit as well as getting significantly windier. Windy I can understand, but my brain is incapable at this stage of comprehending single digit temperatures, let alone negative.

We'll see how I hold up then.

Reality check. And for my readers across the pond, do keep in mind that anything under 32 degrees Farenheit is negative Celsius -- I'm positive I've experienced single digit Celsius temperatures before (read: I'm not THAT much of a wimp).

ntd mnfd

-Physics quote: "I forgot the joules"-

Probably the most interesting dream I had this week was last night's (this morning's?). In it I had the usual interpersonal problems as well as schizophrenia, which for some incomprehensible reason meant that I had to wear a rather annoying set of goggles. I ended up taking these off rather rapidly, but this action made me have a sudden irrational urge to walk to someone's house in the middle of the night -- what that has to do with schizophrenia is beyond me. On the other hand, it did make sense in a real-life context, as I spent yesterday evening watching a movie with an enormous coterie of friends in this person's apartment (how she suddenly upgraded to a house in my dream is also beyond me).

However, part of the reason I had such an interesting dream last night was because I slept in until 1 pm, which is I think a personal record (discounting babyhood). Unfortunately, this also means I have very much to do in very little time this weekend... and so this post comes to an untimely end.

Reality check. Exeunt.

q7tq

-Speech notes quote: "...we will have to make several major modifications"-

Not much interesting in the way of dreams this week, as I had a weird sleep schedule, which always messes up the dream memory horrifically.

I think there is some sort of rule among science fiction writers that states that there must be some degree of telepath in every novel. It doesn't matter if it's only a tiny cameo appearance by some obscure alien race, but there must be at least one telepath.

Furthermore, the second cardinal rule appears to be that telepaths must be severely emotionally troubled. At the risk of going out on a limb here (and indirectly insulting some of my favorite authors), I think that this is kind of sloppy.

Based on what I observe, most people would probably be happier and more secure if they could read people's minds. I mean, what do humans do half the day but worry what other people think of them? Even if it is bad, wouldn't it be much more comforting (and efficient) to just KNOW for sure, one way or the other?

Furthermore, I think people would be pleasantly surprised at how "un-badly" people view them. I mean, you're always thinking that people hate you every minute of the day, but really, do YOU even THINK about a single person that often? Exactly. Neither do they.

Reality check. And then of course if everyone was a telepath, they could catch the fallacies your brain tells itself (by comparing the conscious mental "words" to the subconscious "texture").

jft,

-Brother quote: "maybe just over an hour"-

Well, I had a rather disconcerting dream this week involving filling out a form to bust a terrorist... which thoughtfully included a box to check if I wanted to be an organ donor (it's gruesome enough to check that box on one's ID card in real life -- though I do personally have a pink donor dot, and I highly recommend it. After all, you wouldn't be needing those organs anymore, and there's a real shortage of them). I also had another dream in which I was in a conference room and talking with people I know. As is often the case in dreams, I said something I would probably not in real life -- not bad, just somewhat more confrontational and straightforward than the norm. Which led to some interesting stuff happening, again not bad but not things I or the others involved would actually do in real life.

And yet, I still didn't get that it was a dream. I am SO dense.

It took a bit longer to notice than it probably would in other regions of the country, but I managed to pin down the odd language quirk of Colorado folk. Specifically, where a normal individual would say "frankly", "to tell you the truth", or "can I be honest with you?" (though these phrases are generally not preferred because it makes one sound less honest in general, but that's beside the point), a Coloradoan would substitute the phrase "not gonna lie".

Ooooooooookay. I suspect that this phrase is now so devoid of its original meaning that it could lead to conversations like this:

Starling Moon (from The Great Domesticated Desert of Doom^TM): So, like, I totally wish people would, like, be just a little more open about stuff, you know? Like not be embarrassed about their age or whatever.

Lisa (from CO): Not gonna lie, I get a rush from lying about my age.

Reality check. Really should do reality checks more often, not gonna lie.

q/ q/

-Water bottle quote: "ORC"-

It appears that the only dream I remembered significant amounts of this week was one about going to some sort of outdoor fair (which was inexplicably held in the very late evening, and it was kind of dark) and talking. Who I was talking with, and what the conversation was, will remain classified, but apparently I found it interesting enough for it to come rushing back to me when I awoke.

Oh, I suppose I could be induced to believe that it is time for another story. Perhaps.

Daughters

In my village, there were once two daughters born on the same day, so like in appearance that the one could not be distinguished from the other. They grew and crawled and walked and spoke, and when they spoke, they became friends.

Once more they grew, speaking much and thinking little, but still they spoke to each other, if sometimes angrily now. As they grew and spoke, so their speaking grew different. Though the wisest sage still could not tell one from another on sight, yet now if they spoke, the villagers would say, Ah, it is she, or she.

So it was that as they grew, they were named. The older one they called Beautiful, and the younger one they called Sensible. And it happened that both were satisfied with their own names, but each secretly hated the other's. For Beautiful said to herself "Why must Sensible trust so in knowledge?" and Sensible to herself "Why must Beautiful trust so in sentiment?"

Yet in all this, they were still the closest kin in the village.

It was Sensible that first taught Beautiful to sing, for she had investigated the matter. Beautiful was delighted to learn such a skill, though truth be told, had she been alone, she would never have gathered together herself and studied it. Beautiful likewise showed Sensible the best plot of fragrant flowers outside the village, and Sensible was delighted, though she did not show it. Many days hence did Sensible spend examining the flowers, thinking about this and that.

Once more the daughters grew, and their childish chattering quieted into thoughtfulness. Now their appearance was unlike enough that the villagers could divide them if they looked carefully, though each was still taken for the other now and then.

It happened then that a stranger came into the village, full of tales. One tale of these stirred in Beautiful's soul of romance -- the tale of the silent forest. For indeed there was a silent forest, where no animals called and no huntsmen walked and the fall of dying leaves and boughs shivered from one end of the wood to the other, never overlain. And it was said that the trees of the silent forest had been planted many, many generations ago by one woman. She herself lived in a forest, though it was not silent, no! Perhaps it had been before she had come, but her presence was said to keep it alive. Indeed, her presence kept her alive, for once she entered the forest, she could not depart but once a year.

Beautiful was enthralled at this tale, and she said as much to Sensible. Yet the younger one spoke harshly, and told Beautiful that both she and the forest woman were fools. "What is there in the forest that is worth such bondage?" she demanded. Yet Beautiful, though rash in knowledge, was wise in the ways of hearts, and she had noted one thing. For the stranger had mentioned in passing that within each forest were secrets of nature that could be found no where else. It was this that Beautiful told to Sensible, and Sensible's soul awoke. There was no sense in leaving her village for mere forest sweetness, but for knowledge! Beautiful knew this. How often had she heard Sensible mourn that her mind was enclosed between the village walls to the east and the west. How Sensible longed to see and to know and understand all to the west and to the east of these walls!

As Sensible had grown in wisdom, she learned much, and indeed much more beyond the walls. It was then that she realized that there was not much knowledge to be had in the wide world. Though she knew this, she felt again enclosed, as if there was more to find. And though she had Beautiful for a friend, this thought made her feel lonely.

So it was that both daughters set out to find the silent forest; Beautiful to see its majesty and Sensible to see its wisdom.

Many days into the journey, they came upon the edge of a forest. When they arrived, lo, there was an ancient woman standing there! "Are you the maiden of this forest?" asked Beautiful. "No," replied the crone, "my home is in another forest. Yet one day of a year I may walk to this one, and see and to test if any girls have come brave enough to inhabit it. Are you?" Sensible and Beautiful were silent for five blinks, for they knew within themselves how badly the other wanted to enter the forest. Beautiful spoke first, "I am willing to try," she said. At this, Sensible knew she must leave, for never did a wood take two maidens. Yet when she saw how downcast Sensible appeared as she left, Beautiful planned.

Thus it was that when the crone asked her name, Beautiful replied that she was called Sensible. At this the woman rapped the ground with her staff, but did not challenge the name. Instead, she asked, "What can you do for this dying forest?" Beautiful knew by her soul of romance that the forest would cease its silence at a song, so she sang. As the first melodies dewed onto the barren forest soil, the trees stiffened and greened. Flowers blossomed and poured forth nectar. And she sang there until midnight. At this, the old woman stopped her. "Very good. I must leave now, but return here in one year."

And so Beautiful returned to the village and told all that happened to Sensible, save what she had called her name. Sensible was delighted for Beautiful, though she was sad in her soul that it could not be her. Yet Beautiful still planned.

When the next year had overturned itself, Beautiful urged Sensible to go instead of her. "For," she said, "how can the woman tell us one from the other? I do not want the forest so much as you." Sensible disliked the deception, but she saw that Beautiful could not be satisfied if she refused. And truth be told, her rebellious mind grasped for the opportunity.

So it was that she went to the forest in the place of Beautiful. The crone was waiting there. She said, "Ah, are you the brave maiden worthy of this forest?" Sensible knew then that she could not lie, and she told the woman plainly, "My name is Sensible." But the woman challenged her name! "No," she countered, "Sensible I know -- she I tested one year ago. You I do not know, but your name is not Sensible."

At once, Sensible realized what Beautiful had done. "You are right," she said, acting as if caught in a lie, "my real name is Beautiful." The woman nodded in agreement, and Sensible turned for home. The crone banged her staff. "Stop. I see you want to enter the forest." And Sensible replied, "I do, but can you not see that I am unworthy? I tried to steal in on the merits of another!" For Sensible knew that if she could not enter, she could convince Beautiful to come the next year. "That is of no consequence," the woman retorted, "now, what can you do for this dying forest?" And Sensible perceived that one song in a year was not enough to hold the forest, for it once again lay desiccated. She answered honestly, "I cannot sing, but I know the ways of plants, how they grow. I know where to cut them so life flows back in and I know how to persuade them into bearing flowers and fruit." At this, the woman hit Sensible hard with the staff, so she fell.

So she fell into the forest. Sensible scrambled up to leave, but she found that she could not. She shouted for the woman, but the gnarled trees obscured all outside.

Sensible knew then that she was maiden of the forest, and set off to care for it. With soft hands she plucked and cajoled at the few green shoots, and they grew. With hard work over many months, a ghost of living overshadowed the forest, though it was not green in any great way.

And as time passed, Sensible grew more and more regretful that she had taken what Beautiful had so badly wanted. When the next spring came, Sensible's soul fell, and she sang of mourning.

Then, then! The wood leaped from shadows of life to vibrance. Yet Sensible was downcast, and though she found the knowledge she sought and her songs brought joy to the forest, their melodies never brightened.




Reality check. Well, there are plenty of depressing folktales!

ndaad

-Philippians 2:14 quote: "Do everything without complaining or arguing."-

Well, due to having roughly 4 hours of sleep last night, I don't recall any dreams. Although I did have the interesting dream this week of being in Zambia watching France host the Olympics. And actually doing an excellent job of it. Even though: since when was Zambia a colony of France?

Anyway, yes. I had 4 hours of sleep last night, which for me is unusual. It was one of those, oh, here's a bunch of friends and also a lot more very vague / completely unknown acquaintances / friends of friends and let's gather in a large amorphous group and talk for a while. A very LONG while. A long while during which the giddiness threshold was significantly lowered, as was the general content of the conversation.

On the other hand, the levels of fun steadily increased. Which is pretty amazing considering that by the end we were kind of jumping over walls and twiddling with our phones en masse and drawing lambdas (λ) to see who could draw the nicest-looking one.

Oh dear, I nearly forgot the glow sticks. Those were subjected to steady cap removal and replacement, due to the satisfying popping sound associated with the maneuver.

Reality check. Late fur.

jjjj mq jj

-Indignant quote: "I didn't hear that." (referring to someone who told him that he shouldn't smoke)-

Well, I had a dream last night involving anxiety about my Venus' Flytraps, which are currently being cared for by someone else. Other dreams this week involve one about playing a computer game that for some inscrutable reason was controlled from inside a shower, and another one about working through a physics problem in college, needing a friend to explain it to me, and realizing I'd have to pull out the quadratic formula.

I know there are probably many better tutorials out there on how to operate a slide rule, but I feel like showing off the beautiful slide rule I have... so I will write my own.

How to Do Simple Multiplication on a Slide Rule

1. Get a slide rule. This one's mine, given to me by a slightly older relative.


2. Look for the number "1" near the left end of the "C" scale (here it's at the bottom of the middle rule) and the corresponding "1" on the "D" scale (which is probably right underneath C... if it's not, you may want to pull out and flip over the middle rule until it is) -- in this case I was too lazy to line them up nicely for the picture, but it doesn't really matter at this point. Occasionally, if the numbers you're multiplying are larger, you'll use the 1 on the other end of the C scale, but for now, we'll assume that the 1 on the left of the C scale is your index.


3. Line up the index with the number on the D scale that you want to multiply by. Here, I lined it up with 2.


4. Now, look back up at the C scale to find the other number you want to multiply. I picked 2 again. Take the big clear plastic thing and line up the red hairline with 2 on the C scale. As you can see, if you now look at the D scale right on the hairline, it shows 4, which is 2x2.


4. Suppose you want to multiply the number you got (4) with something else. Easy; just move the index so it lines up with the hairline. You can see that now everything on the C scale is multiplied by 4 on the D scale; for instance 1.5x4=6 (or 15x4=60). Do remember, by the way, that on slide rules, you MUST be careful to keep track of where your decimal point is; this is especially important when using the index on the right side of the rule. This is why it's always essential to do a test calculation by hand as well to make sure that your answer is a reasonable magnitude of 10.


Slide rules generally have many other functions as well, such as logarithms and trig functions, but I still find multiplication to be the most surprising and "magical"... that you can just line up the numbers and it all comes out just like that.

Incidentally, if you want to MAKE a simple slide rule, measure the length of rule you want to make, subtract a small buffer space on each end, and call it R. Then, the spacing on the slide rule of each number (n) is given by R*log(n) for both the C and D rules. Again, remember to include buffer space before the left index and after the right index, and remember that the more decimal ticks you include in between the numbers, the more precise the instrument will be. Line these rules up, smack on a hairline -- folded-up scotch tape with a pen line down the middle works -- and you have a slide rule that can do multiplication and division.

Oh, division? You do that by finding the thing you want to divide (the dividend) on the D rule, then lining it up with the divisor (the thing you're dividing it by) on the C rule. Your index will be pointing at the quotient... remember to check both the left and right indexes because sometimes the division will go off one side.

Reality check. If you suddenly feel an urgent need to buy a pocket protector, you may be taking this a bit far.

jftqa

-Random quote: "Delta b over delta t"-

I'm sort of sick today, so my dream last night actually involved some sort of enormous matrix of... nose discharge. Not sure how much of that was just feeling it all over my face (which was disgusting).

So yes, I'm sick -- behold my short attempt at a post. The advantage is that about half the people I meet every day are sick too, so everything goes at a nice, slow pace and I don't have to worry about breathing on them. We can just talk as much as we want, not caring how many germs we spew onto each other.

Related fun fact: unless someone has sneezed or coughed into their hand, it's very unlikely that you'll get what they have by shaking their hand. Germs don't cross the skin barrier very well at all.

Reality check. Which is probably why we have skin to begin with.

ndq

-Mystcommunity quote: "Um... depends on what you're asking. Everyone will be called by their screen names, as if it was their real name. If the screen name affects how they act, it will change things (like, for some reason, I like Riven more now then before I took the name Gehn, lord of ages). Avatars... I don't know."-

I don't remember my dream from last night, although I did have a couple interesting dreams throughout the week. To sum them up in snatches: a giant, unpredictable crayfish becomes part of my party, I check dollar-store items for... some quality... by marking them, a very old cat is curled up underneath the table, and I travel by bus to some sort of mission control room, getting into my pajamas since I don't have a jumpsuit. Oh, and apparently water works just fine if you drink about 3/4 of a bottle right before conking out.

So, I went to my first SCA fencing practice this week. It was every bit as fun as I expected, and more. The main instruction comes from a bear of a man named Tristan (modern day name unknown), who acts and talks pretty much exactly how you would expect a warrior-trainer from a fantasy novel to be (outside of a few little housekeeping comments like legal waivers that are more century-specific). It is so, so funny. The society requires that new fighters (like me) fight experienced ones for at least the first 6 months, so that we can gain discipline and not learn any bad habits. And also, not kill our opponent by using too much force with not enough knowledge.

You see, the great thing about SCA fencing is that the weapons are real -- what I mean by that is, they're tipped to a point that will run you through, even with armor. Now, the tip is bent back and taped, but if the weapon comes untaped or breaks, you MUST call a hold to fighting. Holds are also called whenever a random group of embarrassed-looking people happens to wander through the fighting. I have to wonder what they're thinking as they file quickly through this crowd of medievally-garbed fighters who are temporarily all holding their swords down and still.

Yes, we get to fence at every practice. The old hands kindly fight at about a tenth of their full potential to give me time to learn the moves properly -- basically the thrust, the advance, the retreat, and 4 parries suited to different attacks. I am so uncoordinated during drills, but I think I do a little better when all that matters is a reflex based on the drills -- I'm kind of short compared to most of the other people (except for one or two woman fighters), so I do have an advantage when it comes to fast attacks and changes of direction. Probably my angle of attack is different too.

Reality check. I'm kind of interested in how long it will take me to dream about fencing.

ndntd

-Mouse quote: "Protected by 1 or more U.S. Pat:"-

I don't remember the dream I had last night, but it was interesting. I think.

Yesterday, I encountered about one of the silliest -- yet in that, most awesome -- groups yet: the Society for Creative Anachronism.

They recreate the most interesting parts of 17th century life (fencing, archery, feasting, battles, kings and queens), all while dressed in period garb. Or, depending on the person, sort of unrealistic but really cool looking "period garb".

So, anyway, some representatives of the group were at a fair I went to yesterday, and I got to try out fencing, which was fun. Of course, I knew my sworn opponent was being extraordinarily easy on me, but that didn't diminish the rush I got when I slayed her time and again.

Okay, so she slayed me once, and without much effort, but still!

Also, I'd have to say that SCA fencing is a lot more fun to watch than competition fencing, which is just people in white suits moving faster than anyone can see, resulting in a "competition" that only the machine can determine the winner of.

When I fenced, even the loaner armor was mostly sort of doublet-y and my adversary was in full garb. There was a lot of pointless circling, overly cautious jabs (mine), and many intentionally lazy parries (hers). Although I'd have to say that her tactic worked, as I'm now seriously contemplating going to SCA fencing practice next Wednesday.

Reality check. And oh! The balance of that rapier -- it was delicious.

ffqa7

-Coloradoan quote: "It'll be good fun."-

Well, I had a dream that I was driving around with family and saw a flag at half-mast. My dream-brain immediately supplied the explanation that it was the anniversary of September 11. How... uncreative.

Many people blog about their pets. I have no pets, and have never had pets, so I will instead insert photographs of the mushroom beastie I made out of glow in the dark Sculpey.



I would insert a picture of him glowing, but I'm afraid my point-and-shoot isn't up to that kind of light condition. He glows neon green, despite his odd peachy-tan color in sunlight.

Reality check. I'm afraid I am a bit nuts for glow in the dark items.

nd

-Flyer quote: "Eat lunch and learn"-

I think one scene in my dream had to do with flying in some sort of biplane to somewhere I wasn't ready to go. This probably stems from the computer game I'm playing, in which I'm trying to find an alternate mode of transportation to get to a new area, and I suspect (from reading the names of the music files in the game) that it will be an airship.

On the subject of computer games, don't you HATE triggers? You know, those things in adventure games where you need to do something completely unrelated to set up the conditions for another quest? I suppose it's preferable to having to wait for a certain real time interval, but it's still frustrating.

For instance, in the particular game I'm playing (I won't say which one so it isn't too much of a spoiler), there was one particularly annoying part where I wanted to get into a dwarf mine. Well, to get in the mine, I needed to get the dwarf password -- fair enough. I even knew where to find a dwarf, and also what dwarves like more than anything else: moldy cheese. In fact, I even knew where to find some moldy cheese! However, I couldn't pick it up (because it was "not so moldy yet" in the words of the person collecting it) until I advanced the main quest, which involved fighting an unconnected individual on the other side of the continent.

Right now I'm waiting on a shipment of exotic fruit, so I can give it to a hermit dude and get a truth mirror. However, I have this sneaking suspicion that I have to advance the main quest first, which is also proving difficult.

Reality check. Which is why I want to find an airship.

qnt

-Door sign quote: "This bathroom will be cleaneed..." (apparently it has a desperate need to be cleaned)-

I don't remember the dream I had last night. I think it was some sort of adventure... which I guess every dream is in some sense, but actually an interesting adventure, not just a "let me systematically destroy all my social relationships" adventure.

Speaking of bathrooms, that's one of the weirdest things I've noticed about Colorado, as compared to the Great Domesticated Desert of Doom^TM is that none of the public restrooms have toilet seat covers! See, here's how it was. When I first got into Denver airport, that was okay, since airports always try to gear their hygiene to the highest level that all the different people coming through would demand, so they had the covers. But then I went to a restaurant in a little tiny city called Golden. I didn't think much of the fact that there were no seat covers; the restaurant as a whole looked somewhat like a converted house, so it wasn't too unusual. True, in GDDoD even the pokiest restaurants have the covers, but I thought maybe I didn't go pokey enough before.

As time went on, however, more and more restrooms lacked the amenity, even in decidedly unpokey areas. It got to the point where my curiosity bugged me so much that I ended up asking a native to the area. And my suspicions were confirmed: most CO restrooms have no toilet seat covers.

Reality check. After I found that out, I gave up constructing covers myself out of toilet paper.

qs

-Letter quote: "Sambah Naturals"-

I was again abruptly roused by my alarm clock, and hence have no dreams to report.

If you could have everything delivered to your door, would you do it? How about if I added that if, for instance, you were grocery shopping, you could view a live feed of the produce stand and pick exactly the fruit you wanted, or perhaps get a chance to order several sizes of an article of clothing and try them on in the comfort (and privacy!) of your home before handing the rejects back to the delivery man.

But if it was carefully worked out, it could be more efficient than the current system. Have a fleet of vans that load the orders until they're full (and car trunks today may get full-ish, but rarely are they packed to the maximum), then run a loop of the houses they service. People wouldn't have to use a bunch of separate cars all the time to do their shopping, and even if the products were a bit pricier than normal, the net effect would be cheaper. Considering that shopping is probably what most non-commuting people are on the road for, it would also clear up traffic. Shopkeepers would probably enjoy having yet another thing besides the credit card to make shopping convenient, as people would no doubt buy more when they know they don't have to haul it to their car and back out to their kitchen when they arrive home.

Now, admittedly, this already happens in the realm of online shopping, but it does seem to have yet to spread to the more frequently purchased necessities, like groceries.

Reality check. Moo.

jfd

-Invitation quote: "Stratton Commons (large grassy area in front of Stratton Hall)"-

No dreams of note last night (at least not that I can remember).

Presumably to save space, bus schedules contain no colons to speak of. I noticed this particularly a couple days ago, when I realized I would have to travel somewhere on the abovementioned mode of public transportation, due to a sudden lack of private transportation. Is private transportation the correct phrase? Why do we call mass transportation "public" but do not likewise label individually owned transports as "private"?

Anyway, I dusted off my bus schedule and set out to read it, only to realize that the various intersections in the area were apparently in some sort of prolonged tournament with each other. I noticed also that the intersections listed farther right were winning. However, I was not looking for interstreet scores; I wanted to know the bus schedule!

So I turned to a more seasoned bus rider for assistance. And she helpfully pointed out that the cryptic columns of numbers were, in fact... times.

Reality check. I know it saves typing, but why, oh why must they leave off the COLONS? Times just don't look like times without them.

mnqa

-Winnie the Pooh quote: "I've got rumblies in my tumblies! Time for something sweet."-

Well, I had an interesting dream last night (and finally managed to beat the alarm clock). I suppose the most interesting part was where there was a large green bubble and somebody shoved their hand through the bubble and released a handful of smaller bubbles. But yet, this somehow corresponded to somebody giving me information.

Yet another reason I would prefer indoor bonding activities: my hands. For some weird, probably genetic (my brother gets it too) reason, if I'm out in the sun too long, my hands and other extremities swell up into large meaty balls of pain. The worst thing is, sunscreen doesn't seem to avert the condition.

Which probably explains why I remembered my dream so well, as I would wake up every few hours last night to press my hands against the cool wall. Or get up to go to the bathroom, as past experience with... whatever this is... has shown that it goes away faster if I guzzle as much water as I possibly can.

Reality check. As strange as it sounds, I think I might be allergic to the sun.

mnf

-Truck of Vast Happiness and Goodwill quote: "WAKE UP!!! WAKE UP!!!!!!!" (apparently upperclassmen trying to rouse the freshmen of an area college. At around 5:45 am)-

So, I almost forgot my dream last night, due again to an alarm clock, but finally remembered that I was playing an RPG and purchasing (from an igloo) a large weapon for my warrior.

Do people really need to bond over outdoor activities? Really? Do they need to fry with sunburn right before serving hot and probably salty foods from the barbecue; exactly the kind of foods that the summarily burnt do not want to touch for several weeks? What is it about outdoor activities anyway, that makes them better than indoors -- in a nice, climate-controlled, cave-geek friendly auditorium?

Perhaps it is the weather here. In the Great Domesticated Desert of Doom^TM, we see sunny days and think, Meh. In Colorado, there is rejoicing in the streets, apparently necessarily followed by the same soaking in of rays evidenced in a GDDoD rainstorm.

Reality check. I suppose once I get used to the weather, the outdoor bonding won't seem so odd.

sf f

-Subject line quote: "nitwose"-

Yet again, I have nothing to tell you about my dreams last night, which were intercepted by my annoying beeping alarm clock. I better get to bed earlier.

Speaking of bed, if the manufacturer really wanted me to put the computer into "sleep" instead of turning it off -- with the benefit being faster startup speed since it is not, in fact, starting up -- couldn't they at least leave out the bright blue light that stays on in that state? I do like sleeping or hibernating my computer since it doesn't use much power and allows me to start working in record time... but there is the small matter of ME sleeping. I cannot sleep with little blue lights flooding half the room.

Listening, manufacturers?

Reality check. Okay, so it doesn't FLOOD the room. But it is pretty bright when none of the other lights are on.

qa a

-Lip balm quote: "Natural Ice"-

I had a wonderfully detailed adventure dream last night... which I remember precisely none of because the alarm went off in the middle. It really is true that as soon as you move, you forget it. Ah well.

I finally have a mouse for my laptop, which is a nice step up from the touchpad. However, it did take some getting used to, even though the computer I previously used was a desktop. Apparently one loses skills mind-blowingly fast. I am still at the point where the cursor rockets around when I first grab the human interface device (really, why do the manufacturers call them that when NO ONE else in the entire WORLD calls them anything but "mice"? Is "mouse" too non-technical-sounding?) and I do tend to reach for the dead -- well, guess it's more accurately "nonresponsive" -- touchpad when I'm not thinking.

Reality check. If the mouse is plugged in, guess what? The touchpad doesn't work, dork. Ahhhhh... I literally reached for it again RIGHT AFTER TYPING THAT!!! There I go again!!!

nnmq

-Projector clock quote: "FOCUS"-

Given the fact that I spent last night in a hotel in a new state (where I'll be staying for a while), I suppose it shouldn't be surprising that I dreamed about doors. Many, many doors, and black goo that I had to avoid. And I even had one of those partial dreams where I felt the bed underneath but still felt like I could levitate up to a bunch more doors, leading to (often comically distant) locations.

The Denver airport is hilarious. First off, when you approach, I suppose it's supposed to look like a stylized interpretation of snow-covered Rockie Mountains... but it looks like a really big white tent with a bunch of poles poking up at random intervals, as if the tent-setter was concerned that one pole was not enough to hold it up. Then, when the plane comes in and you come out of the gate, the first sight to greet your eyes is not a small, tasteful row of shops scattered against the wall. No - immediately upon being disgorged from the belly of the plane, what vision should greet your eyes but the very image of a large mall? And then, to get to baggage claim, the traveler must proceed to a miniature subway train, which is graced by musical chimes whenever it comes to station, stops, the doors open, the doors close, and tigers are snorkeling off the coast of Madagascar. Also, there comes a polite voice saying such nuggets as "The doors are closing" and, if it becomes impatient as passengers continue to enter the "closing" doors, "YOU are delaying the departure of the train."

That part was the most amusing, I think. There is a definite stress on the word YOU, enough to create a few apologetic expressions among the entering group.

Reality check. Oh, and it rains more here. A lot more (rain? In AUGUST?? That messes with some natural law).

fj

-Overheard quote: "Okay, it's smaller than a human."-

I remember nothing of last night's dream. I would guess, however, that it again had to do with the RPG I'm playing.

Why do people think of fingernails as pink? Mine have an area of pink, I suppose, but the overall impression is sort of a faint purple. The nails are very purple toward the base, then sort of gradient out to a peachy color (then white) at the end.

Come to think of it, they look remarkably like miniature sunsets. If I wanted to be sappy, I could say I have ten sunsets with me at all times.

Reality check. No wait, make that 20.

fjft fjf

-John 14:15 quote: "If you love me, you will obey what I command."-

The dream I had last night involved a large room. I think. I would guess the part I can't remember has something to do with an RPG I'm playing right now, but that's merely conjecture.

I have yet to figure out why people enjoy doing drugs. Probably my brain just isn't wired that way (and I should be grateful), but I simply cannot understand why people would willingly let a chemical take control of their lives. I know there's the whole "ooooo risk taking" factor and the "it can't happen to me" bunk, but considering that the possible risk, and I'm sure even the "invincible" types still admit to a small possibility they're susceptible, is enormous, the cost -- merely monetary, even -- is huge, and the benefits are... what, an ever-diminishing rush followed by a crash?

Reality check. I guess this speaks to the illogical way people's minds work.

7fjf q

-Annoying Bird Outside My Window quote: "Hgraw hgraw hgraw hgr"-

I had a rather grisly dream last night about a reality show in which the eliminated contestants were immediately guillotined. Of course, my dream self being the nice, logical human it is... I was thinking about all the forms those kids' (yes, kids -- the contestants were all teenagers!) parents must have had to sign. Then later in the dream -- no doubt psychologically scarred by watching that show -- I found a stuffed Winnie the Pooh toy and wanted to plant him and make a Winnie the Pooh tree. And I also dissected a stuffed shark.

I can't say THAT dream lacked for interest. Although I'd rather not have it again, thank you.

The weather here in the Great Domesticated Desert of Doom^TM is for once as lovely as advertised. There's a slight breeze, it's sunny but not too hot (well, at least here indoors -- and I have no A/C), and my nose seems to have finally decided the pollen counts are not extreme. Also, as noted previously, the birds are chirping. One of them in particular just made that chirp-flutter-flutter noise in a tree that always sounds like it was trying to take off, but forgot there were other branches, thus whapping itself against them for several moments before settling.

Of course, since there's finally good weather here, I'll soon be doing a stint in Colorado.

Reality check. And coming back to GDDoD right when it's hottest, I'm sure.

mt

-Watch quote: "CASIO SUN" (the last part referring to the day of the week, not the large hot ball of gas)-

My dream last night had something to do either with fantasy or sci-fi, and was very interesting. It was also one of those that teases you with brief snatches of itself all day while you're trying to concentrate on other stuff, and cannot, therefore, stop to follow through.

I just found out that my schedule may become somewhat busier beginning around next week. It is also busier locally -- today I am visiting some more relatives for lunch. Therefore, this post will be somewhat abbreviated. In fact, it is ending right now. Yes, now. At this moment. Without further ado. Why are you still reading? Finished. Done.

Reality check. So at any rate, as I was trying to say, posting may possibly become less regular shortly.

fqa fqa

-Christmas carol quote: "Then all the reindeer loved him / and they shouted out with glee (yippee!)"-

Nothing but vagueness to show for last night's dreams, although I think the mug of freezing water does help me wake up in time to record what I remember. Specifically, my BLADDER wakes me up.

*looks up at the previous statement*

Isn't "bladder" an awesome word? Not the meaning, just looking at it. The appearance of the letters is reminiscent of some sort of ancient hero (like Bladdud).

I tend to inspect the appearance of the oddest words. Such as "the". If you look at the word "the", it looks like it's missing something at the end -- like the writer forgot to finish it.

And how about "like"? Visually, it's a mix between "bike" and "lick", but it has a completely different mouth feel when you say it.

I guess that's the most interesting part: examining the word's appearance, then noticing how it deviates from the way it feels to say it out loud.

Reality check. I could go on about this in an infinite loop. I suspect my acquaintances find my observations annoying.

a

-Conversation quote: "We're going to stick it in with your rock, so weight doesn't matter."-

Fittingly enough, my dream last night involved the Olympics. Granted, I have yet to see an opening ceremony in which the entire U.S. Olympic team leaped off a tall building into a trampoline... but it WAS interesting, that's for sure. Especially since my tiniest aunt was somehow on the team, and staying in the tall building. Her room had this awesome tidepool-thing spanning the floor, and she was also supposed to jump off with me, my brother, and an elephant.

Since I was doubly reminded of the Olympics this morning (aside: oh no, that means I am soon to get THAT TUNE stuck in my HEAD!!!!!), I got to thinking back to the Athens games. I remember being fascinated that all the announcements were made in Greek, English, and... French?

Wait. Rewind. I thought we were over the whole "French is the universal language" thing. I thought that if it were anything but English, today's hot UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE^TM was Mandarin Chinese.

And then this train of thought worked around to Why do people make up "universal languages"? There are already enough real-world contenders for the spot without some linguistic intern developing one that no one speaks.

I mean, sorry to bust your language-idealism bubble, but no matter how sane and beautiful and grammatically tidy and logical a made-up language is, if you want it to become the international language, you have an insurmountable barrier -- no one speaks it, as compared to the jillion that speak Mandarin and the gazillion who speak English.

And unfortunately for linguistic tidiness, people learn languages they think will advance them NOW. Not in some future world of language perfection. NOW.

Reality check. Was that a rant? No, not quite I suppose.

jft fqaa fqaa

-Advertisement jingle quote: "I want a Manwich please"-

I have a vague notion that last night's dream had some sort of either fantasy or perhaps renaissance mood. But that's about it.

An interesting Paradox of Life:

Why is it that eyewear shops that specialize in speed (an hour, perhaps, for a typical pair of glasses) require progressively more time to finish more complicated glasses? On one level, this makes sense -- they are not as used to grinding prisms and astigmatism correction into glasses and thus are less efficient (or have to ship the frames elsewhere to have these done).

However, there is the other level where this makes no sense at all. Namely, people who have to purchase these singular spectacles (i.e. me) are the ones LEAST ABLE TO LIVE WITHOUT THEM FOR EXTENDED PERIODS.

Reality check. This would be frustrating if it weren't so funny.

j

-CD quote: "SWISSTEC BY SKY MEDIA"-

I had an involving dream last night in which I was in some sort of race. The first part involved setting off a firework and taking vitamins or supplements of some sort, if necessary (they were for health reasons, not increased speed, and the pills were enormous and like jellied Listerine strips in texture) and then going upstairs to the kitchen to make some sort of cold blueberry puree. Finding the food processor in all the cupboards took a good deal of time.

Fun little party game to make a small wad of cash:

THE DOLLAR AUCTION

You pull a $1 bill (or some other small denomination) out of your wallet and announce to your friends that you are auctioning it off. Bidding starts at 1 penny (or similar ridiculously small amount) and there are only two rules.

1. Each bid must be at least 1 cent higher than the previous one.
2. When bidding is finished, both the highest bidder and the second-highest bidder must pay you their highest bids. However, only the highest bidder receives the dollar.

With a couple minutes' thought, you can see where this is going. Bidding starts fast, as people try to get some free money. Gradually, though, as bidding gets higher, people start to drop off, so by the time bidding nears $1, there are only two people left, we'll call them Mark and Robert. Mark bids 98¢, and Robert follows up with 99¢. A hesitation. Then, not wanting to lose 98¢ for nothing, Mark bids $1 to break even. Of course, Robert quickly realizes that losing 1¢ is better than losing 99, so he proceeds to bid $1.01 for a $1 bill. And the process continues.

Human greed nearly guarantees that you will come out on top. However, if your friends are smart (and this is why you don't do this more than once to the same group of people) they will team up at the beginning and stop bidding well under a dollar, splitting the cost and the earnings between themselves.

Search "game theory" to find more dilemmas of this kind.

Reality check. This trick was originally found in a GAMES magazine -- wonderful publication by the way.

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-Trade Pact Universe quote: "Terk shifted, apparently uncomfortable with so much happiness in one room."-

I had another of those frustrating mornings where I know my dream was very involving, but can't remember a speck of it. This one was worse than most -- I am POSITIVE I'm forgetting something good. Ah well. Since I have less to say about the dream, I suppose I'll mention what techniques I've been using recently. I'm not drinking as much milk as I usually do, since the jugs seem to run out at the oddest (not to mention most inconvenient) times. However, I am having an ice-cold travel mug of water before bed... though nixing the exercise thing for now since the Great Domesticated Desert of Doom^TM is having a series of particularly sweltery nights.

I remain particularly tickled with the Passively Multiplayer Online Game. However, I have noticed through my web travels (which are considerably more interesting when I stumble across another PMOGer's Mission) that the beginner's guides to the game are singularly lacking in useful information. So, I will attempt to bang together a passive strategy guide to fill this lack.

The Shoat's Guide to PMOG

Chapter One: Getting PMOG

You will need either Firefox or Flock (Internet Explorer, sadly, will not do) to play PMOG, for the simple reason that PMOG exists as an extension of those browsers. Don't get the extension just yet; sign up at http://pmog.com first, and it should prompt you with the latest version.

(NOTE: for those -- like me -- who are paranoid about downloading nasties, know that the PMOG extension is on download.com, and thus "Safe, Tested, and Spyware Free!")

So set up your profile (default privacy settings hide everything except your username and motto), then download the latest PMOG toolbar. Restart your browser, then click PMOG Sign In > Login > New Login on the new toolbar. If you can't see the toolbar, click the ornate P on the bottom right of the window, and it should unhide it. You will probably notice that all your supplies have gaping 0's in front of them. Awwww. Don't worry, Shoat, this will soon be remedied.

You should now be taken to the main page of PMOG. Proceed directly to your profile (click on your username near the top of the screen) and there should be a starter crate of goodies from PMOG. Click to loot the crate, and wait for it to display its contents, which will be added to your supplies. The first order of business is to click on the Armor button on the toolbar, turning it from off to on. It is generally considered in poor taste to St. Nick shoats (more on that tool later), but Mines can hit anyone, since they are generally tied to a location on the internet and not a person.

You can now experiment a little with your tools, just remember to keep your Armor on -- it will go off if it gets hit by 3 mines, so not likely -- and not spend too much of your wealth in tools and Datapoints (money) just yet.

Chapter Two: Shoat Strategy

There are two paths for you in PMOG. There's the obvious Passive path, where you go about normal browsing, getting hit by the occasional Mine and finding the odd Crate, Mission, or Portal, and then there's the Active path, where you set a goal (I want a Benefactor association, say) and try to force your way to it. Predictably, perhaps, you'll get more long-term enjoyment from the Passive path. However, right now I'll cover some pointers on the Active path.

ASSOCIATIONS
Right now, O Shoat, you are probably in levels 1-4, where associations are nonexistent or tenuous. This is a good thing for you, since it allows you to buy anything you can afford from the Shoppe (click on the Datapoint button to go there). At level 5 and above, you can only buy tools that match your associations, so if you are, say, Benefactor-Vigilante-Bedouin, you may only buy Crates, St. Nicks, and Armor. Associations are never permanent, however, you can change them by your use of the tool corresponding to that association. Before level 5, don't worry about your association too much, just save up on supplies and keep your Armor on. Past that, you'll be glad you saved up on supplies because that will allow you to change your association as needed to buy more stuff. For instance, you may have a good wad of cash that you want to spend on Mines. But if you don't have a Destroyer association (past level 5) you can't buy them at the Shoppe. So, you can either go to the trading forum and pawn some of your other stuff, or just use a lot of your Mines, without touching the other tools. This will increase your Destroyer association the next time your stats are updated (this can take from one day to three) and you can buy the Mines you need.

A few things to keep in mind, when stocking up supplies.

Portals are EXPENSIVE, but you only need a couple of them unless you want Seer to always be your main association. Personally, I don't use them at all, but I figure someone might want to trade for them, and as previously mentioned, they're worth plenty DP.

Lightposts seem like something you'll only need a few of... you're not making Missions every day or anything... but when you use them, you'll find you need TONS of them at a time.

Crates are something you'll probably use frequently, but they're cheap and, annoyingly, one of the most popular items to put in Crates -- this has something to do with the Benefactor ethos, but I'm not sure what. So don't worry too much about these; keep a modest stash of 5 or more and you'll have enough.

Armor is deceptively slow to wear out. Ten pieces of Armor may last you a couple weeks. Unfortunately, Bedouin association is hard to get since it's a matter of finding Mines and exploding them against your Armor before someone else does... and there is heavy competition. On the bright side, your associations will tend to default to some combination of Benefactor, Vigilante, and Bedouin if you don't use tools at all for a few days. But nonetheless, keep a good supply of that Armor!

Mines you will need a lot of to get any satisfaction. You will find that once you're past the Shoat stage where everyone's nice to you, they will St. Nick you into oblivion every time you lay a Mine. This is of course rather annoying since it means you'll probably spend 5 St. Nicked Mines before you can get one that actually lays on the page. In addition, most people are always wearing Armor, so the chances of actually inflicting damage with a Mine are minimal. On the other hand, Mines ARE awfully fun ways of marking out pages you loathe.

Finally, St. Nicks. Vigilante association is definitely fun, although you will face some frustration when you try to St. Nick someone only to find that they already have the maximum 5 Nicks attached. I like to watch the Activity Log (from pmog.com just click on the ornate P near the top of the page) and look for someone who lays a lot of Mines, or someone who's recently set off a St. Nick, thus hinting they may have a space available for another. These are straightforward tools, so keep a good stock of them but not excessive. Unlike Mines, they can't be defused.

TOOLS
I've already discussed them, O Tasty Bacon.

MISSIONS
If you're really desperate for DP, I might advise taking a Mission from Mission Central (accessible from the left PMOG button on your toolbar). Otherwise, it really is more fun to turn your content filter up to 4 stars -- you can find this in the normal taskbar under Options > PMOG -- and just browse sites as you normally would. Thus, when you stumble upon a mission, it ALREADY includes a site that interests you, and probably will be more of the same. There is a delicious serendipity in this method.

ALLIES & RIVALS
PMOG at its kooky best. Don't worry about actually getting to know people before adding them as an Ally or Rival, just choose a silly arbitrary reason, and inform them of that reason with an IM. I know, I know, messages cost a whopping 1 DP. Fine. Only do it if you're making an ally.

And don't hesitate at all to make Rivals, they won't take it personally -- feel free to add ME as a Rival if you want. It merely makes the game more fun by giving both of you an excuse to Mine and St. Nick each other on a whim (which, I might add, is actually useful if you're trying for a Bedouin association -- Rivals can be allies in disguise).


THE END? Perhaps I will add more tips as I discover them.

Reality check. I am a nerd.

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-Me quote: "That's hilarious. Florida??"-

I had a somewhat disturbing dream last night involving tanning (although how my brain convinced me I would ever submit to a tanning bed is BEYOND me) and subsequent skin cancer.

With the housing market slumped as it is, I sometimes wish that I could purchase a house now, but, you know, come up with the money for it later. I suppose that's the sort of situation that would encourage people to take out loans -- how you always learn in economics that inflation actually helps reduce the national debt. It works because when you buy something now (say with a loan -- or in the government's case, a bond) perhaps you pay $5 for it. Inflation takes its course and the object you paid $5 for increases to a price of $6. If you pay less than $1 in interest on the loan, you come out ahead, having bought something now worth $6 for less. This is of course unlikely to happen, since banks have to make money too, but if there is a sudden spike in inflation, it is weirdly possible to benefit.

However, when the market performs as predicted, you merely get saddled with debt and a worse credit rating.

Reality check. Which would be a slight downside.

jft,

-Title quote (translated): "Disagreeable [lit. sing-not] Noise"-

The most interesting thing by far from last night's slumber was dreaming that I was somehow wearing really tall flip-flops. I remember none of the context surrounding this singular footwear, which only serves to make it infinitely more humorous. However, given the tendency dreams have toward segue, perhaps there IS no context.

I am currently listening to the neighbor diagonally to the rear of my house playing what sounds like a seriously troubled synthesizer. No doubt the psychologically disturbed instrument is actually some sort of oddly amped electric guitar, but that is very hard to verify, despite having heard its thinly veiled cries for help on and off at least one early afternoon per week. Every so often, the heartrending sound will be punctuated with the feral cry of the local birds, clearly a deep expression of avian sympathy toward the stringed one's anguish.

Reality check. More likely, the birds are threatening the instrument.

,,t mqm

-The Essential Blender quote: “Guide to 3D Creation with the Open Source Suite Blender”-

Last night I dreamt I was at a party and a bunch of us got together and squshed someone against the wall. We were having fun, but as she was at the very bottom of this whole deal, she was not. O, the flamboyant lapses of judgment we have in dreams!

Being the silly geek I am (now armed with Firefox!) I found a neat little browser extension yesterday: the Passively Multiplayer Online Game. It’s basically like a MMORPG for lazy people – you rack up coins (called Datapoints) for every webpage you visit. Then you can use these coins to buy Crates, Mines, Lampposts, Armor, Portals, and St. Nicks. Crates allow you to leave money or stuff on websites for the next PMOG player to loot; mines are similar, except that they blow up in the next person’s face (shaking the browser window in the process) and subtract DP from their savings. However, you can counter mines with armor (each piece of armor blocks 3 mines) or St. Nicks, which will foil the person’s next attempt at laying a mine. Since mines are a sizable 40 dp, this can be quite the revenge.

Lampposts and portals are the tourist side of PMOG – and, you might argue, its most important elements once you’ve gotten over your rush for mayhem and counter-mayhem. A lamppost forms part of a mission, which is essentially a user-made tour through a set of websites, often a obscure and off the beaten track. Missions are also the primary determinants of association, basically the factions you are part of as you level up. Portals just zap you blindly from one site to another.

Really fun little game, since you can practically level up on autopilot if you want to, or take a more active role if you feel like it. It's like a giant game of tag across the internet.

http://pmog.com/

Reality check. If you start see an ad from the Bedouin association, it is not a dream, but PMOG.