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...the masses have shouted 4 pleas for reason... -=Question my judgement=- Matters of Scale. [28 Apr 2004|02:44pm] I've been seeing a lot of matters of scale, as of late. Everyone suffers, somehow. I don't care how "easy" or "hard" your life is, everyone suffers. The rich typically want to get richer, and suffer if they don't. The impoverished may starve, and suffer if they aren't able to eat. A specific roommate and I have suffered over our respective, similar assignments. We have spent days struggling over obstacles we could not control, and finally, each in our own way, we have come through. He's gotten his results... ...I have to hope it isn't too late for me. Because of this assignment, I've missed all of my Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday classes. I've had to spend the time either coding this Algorithms assignment or sleeping so that I can bring my brain back into a state in which it can focus. I haven't eaten as much. I haven't gamed. I've barely spoken to my friends. I've been as driven as I've been all semester, and I kept running into roadblock after roadblock. And the program wasn't meant to be that hard. Conceptually, it wasn't. The devil was in the details: This: Use the sorting algorithms mergesort, quicksort and heapsort in order to sort out integer arrays of sizes 100, 1,000 , 10,000 , 100,000 , and 1,000,000. Each array size is used thrice, each with a different set of inputs. One contains randomly generated numbers, one contains numbers in ascending order, and the other in descending order. Time the sorts and discuss the results on paper. Ju in particular should know that this doesn't sound all that bad. It's just the details that one has to watch out for...like not overflowing the memory stack allocated for the program when you're working with timing things across 1 million elements. Things like that hung me up all over the place. Now I'm turning it in and trying to figure out if it's going to be 2 or 3 days late. It's 20% of my grade in a class that I'm not doing well in. I need to pass (or have some contingency plan in place) to graduate. I'm no longer certain of that happening. To say that I'm worried sick over my grade in there would be an understatement. Let's not forget that I have another huge assignment due in another classes tomorrow, that I really have yet to work on. But this is what I'm worried over: grades. Some kids are starving. Others are hoping that the next $1 mil comes in on top of the 249 others. And I'm worried about grades. So why is that such small comfort?

...the masses have shouted 1 plea for reason... -=Question my judgement=- Is this what happens in the years after a loss of virginity? [15 Apr 2004|09:27pm] You are 40% geek You are a geek liaison, which means you go both ways. You can hang out with normal people or you can hang out with geeks which means you often have geeks as friends and/or have a job where you have to mediate between geeks and normal people. This is an important role and one of which you should be proud. In fact, you can make a good deal of money as a translator. Normal: Tell our geek we need him to work this weekend. You [to Geek]: We need more than that, Scotty. You'll have to stay until you can squeeze more outta them engines! Geek [to You]: I'm givin' her all she's got, Captain, but we need more dilithium crystals! You [to Normal]: He wants to know if he gets overtime. </blockquote Take the Polygeek Quiz at Thudfactor.com And for the record, I'd like to note that at the results page for this test, there is the misspelled word "hunam" in "silly hunam," instead of "silly human." Bitches.

...the masses have shouted 2 pleas for reason... -=Question my judgement=- Mini-Breaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak [09 Apr 2004|05:09pm] [ mood | anxious ] Just as a public service announcement, I'm going to be up-and-gone from this afternoon until Tuesday afternoon/evening. Have a great Easter weekend!

...the masses have shouted 3 pleas for reason... -=Question my judgement=- Heapification, or, A DJ's Bill of Rights [05 Apr 2004|02:16pm] I had lunch today with a member of my group for Operating Systems, in which we have to develop a kernel module for the Linux kernel (yeah, I'm understanding it about as well as you are). We also talked shop about WSYC, as he's the Public Relations Director, and quite the knowledgeable guy, at least as far as organization of information goes. He presented a bunch of ideas that I think are great ones, and while they'll make relatively sweeping changes in the way that staff and DJs conduct themselves, I think it'll be beneficial for all concerned. A summary of his ideas are below, feel free to comment and criticize: Keys to the Kingdom Trevor S. is the graduate assistant to WSYC, and has been with the station perhaps since he was a freshman at Ship. Virtually every staff position, if not every single one, goes through him at some point because he is simply that knowledgeable. He's graduating at the end of this semester, and leaves no real documentation for what he does. At present, he created and controls the Global Café, the 6-11 AM AAA morning show, handles the bulk of playlist charting to the College Music Journal (Jim W. and I handle metal and RPM, respectively), handles "Community Contributions" and has the most consistent contacts with various record labels. He has knowledge about nearly every station staffhead position, and dispenses said info upon demand. Under such a model, he has a very real, if subtle, portion of control over what goes on. This ends, at least to an extent when he graduates. Those that pick up after him should be able to go right along doing with what he's doing, with the benefit of his knowledge down on paper. This should also occur with every other position. Thus, the PR Director proposed that once a year, every staff head should assemble a complete description of his or her position, as well as instructions for every task they had to perform, to better suit their successors. Personal preferences allow for differences in the terms for each staff head, but the core responsibilities will remain. I think this is a good idea. Particularly in the case of the grad assistant, above. Flow Control WSYC meetings, both staff and general, have the purported and real tendency to be bloated, going on for longer than necessary as staff heads bandy back and forth with one another over issues that do not concern either the other staff heads or, at least, the general body of station DJs. (My addition: Stricter controls should be placed on this, and public rebuke should be considered.) To be continued...

...the masses have shouted 2 pleas for reason... -=Question my judgement=- "You're Smart and You Know It." [05 Apr 2004|05:18am] you are lightcyan #E0FFFF Your dominant hues are green and blue. You're smart and you know it, and want to use your power to help people and relate to others. Even though you tend to battle with yourself, you solve other people's conflicts well. Your saturation level is very low - you have better things to do than jump headfirst into every little project. You make sure your actions are going to really accomplish something before you start because you hate wasting energy making everyone else think you're working. Your outlook on life is very bright. You are sunny and optimistic about life and others find it very encouraging, but remember to tone it down if you sense irritation. the spacefem.com html color quiz Huah.

-=Question my judgement=- Clustered Computer Architecture [24 Mar 2004|04:37am] [ mood | rejuvenated ] [ music | Bad Religion---21st Century Digital Boy ] Judging by the aural happiness that's blaring through my headphones right now, I think I need to build some high-energy mixes for nights like these. I'm totally rocking out listening to this song, in some terrible fanboyish way. However! It's woken me up quite a bit, and so I press on!

-=Question my judgement=- Do Not Bother the Feeding Animals [24 Mar 2004|02:35am] [ mood | bitchy ] So when it comes to Sheetz as a spur of the moment thing, there've been plenty of times when my roommates just up and go. Sometimes I don't even have time to put up an away message, we just run with the spontaneity of it all. So maybe we aren't the only ones. I'm going to rejuv for the evening with some cheese fries, a Coke, and later, a Starbucks Doubleshot, my caffeine of choice. I pay for Little Josh's garlic fries in appreciation for him running his out...and with those orders, they're now out of fries. Sorry, Big Josh. We get back out to the car, Big Josh decides to do something with his refunded money. Little Josh goes back in with him, and lets me into the car. "Try not to get kidnapped," he says. I scoff, and get into the car. Unlocked doors. Marilyn Manson is blaring through the speakers. I'm treating myself to the freshest chili cheese fries ever. And then... You've seen the movies, right? The ones with the cliché fat kids who will eat your face if you disturb them while they're eating, while they're hungry? Yeah, if you're making an ass out of yourself, then you face my inner fat kid. Enter Stevie Lite. I call him Stevie Lite because of the resemblance he bears to someone I know in my social circle, just a little less...well, flaming. Anyway. Stevie Lite is in a shirt the color of his name, chatting it up with some girl in a white car to my left. I am in the back left seat of Little Josh's car. Stevie Lite is now sauntering around...and peering into the window to look at me. I am a zoo animal, I am eating and someone is staring at me. He knocks on the window. A nice little rhythm. This isn't anything urgent, this is a social call. My eyes go to the locks. The doors are unlocked and there's some drunkass college student wanting to share some words. So my cage got rattled, and I'm not happy. I put the lid on my cheese fries. Pride demands that I not rush to lock the doors, so I don't. Stevie Lite opens my fucking door. It occurs to me that I may be interested in stepping out of the car, and getting myself arrested for a count of assault at Sheetz of all places, if Stevie Lite persists. "Heeeeey there, I jus'wanna talk to ya..." Oh, I'm sorry, you're not drunk, you're stoned out of your gourd. "Uh, yeah." "You got some cheeeese fries..." "Yeah, I think you need to close the door now." "...where you from?" "Waaaaaaaay down south." "They don't know how to have fun, down south..." And he shuts my door, briskly. At this point, I'm amping up on a solid dose of what-the-fuck and quickly locking each door. Try not to get kidnapped? Apparently I do have to try. And yes, I was overdramatizing the whole thing. But it was random, and seemingly perfectly timed. Just goes to show, that you don't want to rattle the cage of the feeding animals. Else, they might go home and make you look like a dumbass in their LJs. If I was 10 years older, I might've given him a lecture on how he was a perfect example of the desecration of youth in America. If I ever see him again, I still might.

...the masses have shouted 6 pleas for reason... -=Question my judgement=- BBQ Beats 2: Return of the Yams [20 Mar 2004|05:45am] [ mood | nauseated ] [ music | O.A.R. ---- Fool in the Rain ] I found it absolutely hilarious that I passed over my LiveJournal, thinking, "Man, I owe my friends an update..." and then immediately get sick to my stomach. Exact cause of my temperamental tummy is unknown. So in yet another fit of self-analysis (maybe you'd know this, maybe you wouldn't, but I go through these things like water), I managed to figure out some aspects of my nature that I'm going to have to overcome before I get into serious trouble. Antagonistic: I give my friends shit all of the time, this is a fact of life. They return it, all is well. My supervisor is the first to offer the shit as we work together. As a result, I have less fear of openly (though demurely) challenging him. As I pay attention to reactions (or lack thereof), I wonder if I'm damaging my position by treating him as a peer in that respect. He might return the trick by occasionally picking on me when I'm not around to my co-worker, who happens to be my roommate. Our latest batch of work came at the campus bookstore, where my roommate informed me of a trick that my boss pulled earlier in the day. We jawed about it briefly for a moment or two, finishing with my muttering "I wonder if he's got it out for me, sometimes." I turn around to look at Josh, who turns around to look at our boss, standing right there. No word on how long he was there. No word on if he'll have my face for breakfast, someday. Or my short-lived career. Or if he'll just really have it out for me, now. Dramatic: This isn't nearly as bad as it could be, and I'm rather proud of that. I like to be open to many possibilities in virtually all situations, and understate (as opposed to exaggerate) the issue...but when it comes to simple speech, I like to draw things out. Keep people in suspense, that sort of thing. Life isn't television, so this sort of behavior is neither necessary nor particularly endearing. It's just an acquired speech impediment. Eventually I'll dump it and be fine, or it'll get out of control and I'll turn into Richard Shatner. A minor issue, that Shatnerizing. Opportunistic: Oh, the stories I could tell you. Apathetic: This one is the beast. At first it seemed to be limited somehow, maybe only to some little bits of what I knew or what I was experiencing. Now, however, it seems to be rather pervasive, trying to get into everything nearby. While I've been making progress, there's still a lot from which to untangle the apathy, and it's going to take a while to get everything handled. Fortunately, I think everything can be handled pretty effectively. We'll see. I mean to say more, but I'm tired. So I'm done for now.

...the masses have shouted 1 plea for reason... -=Question my judgement=- Cooperation of 22% means "Will Help for Cookies" [13 Feb 2004|02:12pm] Advanced Big 30 Personality Test Results Sociability ||||||||||||||||||||| 62% Gregariousness |||||||||||| 38% Assertiveness |||||||||||||||||| 58% Activity Level |||||||||||| 38% Excitement-Seeking ||||||||| 22% Enthusiasm |||||||||||||||||| 58% Extroversion ||||||||||||||| 46% Trust |||||||||||||||||| 54% Morality ||||||||||||||| 46% Altruism |||||||||||||||||||||||| 74% Cooperation ||||||||| 22% Modesty ||||||||||||||| 46% Sympathy ||||||||||||||||||||| 70% Friendliness |||||||||||||||||| 52% Competence ||||||||||||||||||||| 66% Neatness ||||||||||||||| 46% Dutifulness |||||||||||||||||| 58% Achievement |||||||||||| 38% Self-Discipline ||||||||||||||| 46% Cautiousness ||||||||||||||||||||| 70% Orderliness |||||||||||||||||| 54% Anxiety ||||||||||||||||||||| 66% Volatility |||||| 14% Depression |||||||||||| 38% Self-Consciousness ||||||||| 30% Impulsiveness ||||||||| 30% Vulnerability ||||||||| 26% Emotional Stability ||||||||||||||||||||| 66% Imagination |||||||||||||||||| 54% Artistic Interests ||||||||||||||| 50% Emotionality ||||||||||||||||||||| 70% Adventurousness ||||||||||||||| 42% Intellect |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| 82% Liberalism ||||||||||||||||||||| 70% Openmindedness ||||||||||||||||||||| 61% Take Free Advanced Big 30 Personality Test

...the masses have shouted 4 pleas for reason... -=Question my judgement=- I'm So Boned. [08 Feb 2004|11:15am] [ mood | distressed ] I like to think of myself as a pretty smart fella, at least in a select few aspects. Yes, I stayed up all night and I have a bigass café mocha sitting beside me to further cement my chemical bond to stupidity in that respect, but bookishly and what-not, I can hold my own. So I totally had a moment where my professor just said to the class "Boogity bleebee wee-cha rarararararar xibbie da-flort pahmak CHOP!" I mean, they were actually real words, but that's what I heard. Makes me think that I'm not cut out for the major. Then I stop myself and say "No, I can code." So I'm all right for part of it. But what part? The "coding apps for monkeys" part. Or web programming, which is the "coding like monkeys" part. I ran into one of my old war buddies (er, Software Engineering group members) at the campus coffee dispensary (read: Jazzman's Café) today, and she told me she was going to be going to graduate school here in order to get her Master's in Psychology. I responded by asking her what brick hit her in the head. Now I'm thinking it ought to be flung at me; I enjoy working with people, even the boneheads that don't know what they're doing. And I'm not sure I can handle this upper-level programming that translates into low-level machine stuff. I recently read some manifesto by some random user on Slashdot in that the ability to program assembly language separates the good/mediocre programmers from the "great" programmers. Assembly language looks like Ebola to me. It makes me want to bleed out my eyes, along with other orifices that don't need to be mentioned here. So, grad school? Not so sure. If I don't land the UNC-Charlotte Deal of the Decade (starts with: DoD), then if I go to grad school, I'll probably aim my sights on some non-computer related discipline. Go for something people-oriented. Maybe give myself the ultimate gunshot in the head and get an MBA, then gloat about how I'm better than 99% of society. Of course, I could always go into artificial intelligence, assuming that isn't out of my league. Or design the theory to some new, experimental programming language and get some other capable, gullible soul to implement it. Or a more honest possibility, go freelance with all this web stuff. I thought about a moratorium on buying games, except for the occasional purchase into franchises I love (SmackDown, ESPN College B-Ball, rare AAA-level, unexpected sequel), in favor of strictly music (for recreation) and computer tome-type-things. It might sound like some radical change for me, but what you and your moms don't know is the stash I've been quietly collecting for the past 6 months. I've got SimCity 4, Neverwinter Nights, Rollercoaster Tycoon 2, all these games I've barely touched. They need some play time, they're good titles. My money (or my parents, when I'm lucky) is better spent elsewhere. -Plus,- I've got all these fat computer books that need to get put into use, as well as The 48 Laws of Power/The Art of Seduction, the reading of which will make me either a) A better person or b) A bigger bastard. One of the two. I feel like a patch is under development for my personality/life plan. ...wtf, I'm such a geek. That's great.

...the masses have shouted 5 pleas for reason... -=Question my judgement=- Impending Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt? [30 Jan 2004|11:27am] [ mood | relieved ] So I'm sitting in my Operating Systens class, watching him go over the homework that was due...last week? Two weeks ago? And only in one problem am I recognizing the logic of the answer match my logic in tackling the problem. So I think I'm screwed. ...wait, wait. Perhaps life was not as bad as it appeared in the mirror. 26/35, that's an 82%. I'm breathing like a normal human being now.

...the masses have shouted 9 pleas for reason... -=Question my judgement=- Just So You Know... [21 Jan 2004|12:28am] [ mood | mischievous ] [ music | Something by Killer Mike, NFL Street ] You may walk by me and give me the most withering glare, but the only thing you'll get in return is a simple smile. I hope you don't mind.

...the masses have shouted 13 pleas for reason... -=Question my judgement=- It Is An Addiction. [09 Jan 2004|04:30am] So I've been depressed lately. If you know me, like -really- know me, you know that isn't a word I throw around because everyone else does and cheapens the issue. Kind of like love, I suppose. But I have been depressed. ...but why? Therein lies the question. Specific personal issues have recurred. It's something that I've spoken to no one about for a reason, but I'm willing to say as much as you see here. I beat myself up over it for the nature of the beast. That much is essentially dealt with now, but I have to not allow it to appear again. If I'm seeing how things are laid out, and are feeling them correctly, I may not have a choice. Things between myself and a certain someone have not been what they had been before, or so it feels. I don't know if that's all in my head or not; it could be a byproduct of these dark days, instead of the cause. But it leads me to all sorts of worry; is a matter of neglect only now catching up to me? Have I been that blind? I need definitive insight, to know for sure. It's been a full moon. Normally I don't buy into any lunar influence or how-the-hell-ever you classify that (save it, pagans and neo-pagans!) However. Everything-has-broken-down. A skunk sprayed my mother's car while we were out late fetching Wal-Mart goodies and Jack in the Box, now only the -interior- smells of skunk. Some part on my PlayStation 2 is adversely affecting gameplay, and may be getting worse. I'd send it off, but then my interactive entertainment would no longer be under my control. Why? Because...the motor for the fan that cools my already-flaming-like-whoa AMD processor gave that shit up. Next time I get the fond thought to replace my whole heat sink + fan instead of just fan remind me to shoot myself. I still haven't gotten the damn thing installed, though I've tried. But my main suspect? Coca-Cola. Or, more specifically, caffeine. Again, those who know me know that I go through soda like water (though I've been making some attempt to limit myself), and then eschew coffee like I'd never drink something for the sake of caffeine. I'm not sure that I knew I was doing so, but I believe now that I was. When I stopped drinking a can a day, I think that's when everything began to go downhill, mood-wise. I may regulate my intake of the Cola War, even strictly, eventually, but I will keep my vice. There is always tea, and this is too much of an interesting experiment, for now. It's small-stakes, and I'm not going to go looking for a bigger rush, but I will have a handle on this and bend it to my will. Just like this feeling. I will shake it, by taking whatever means necessary. I try not to ask for too much of the world, but I will have absolute control over myself. I will detest this negativity, but I will in time accept it and it will succumb to me. It is inevitable. You know, this is probably more personal than I really care for most of you to see. But I'm going to leave it up here, and you can do whatever you want with it. What I have written here is telling of me. How you choose to take it, well, that will be telling of you. Finally, some random thoughts. I was hungry, so I went downstairs and reheated Chinese food from lunch, at 3:45 in the morning. Can't wait to hear my parents on that one. I have met some very nice people, recently. I miss my roommates. There is still one piece of the puzzle missing. No, three. Three. But I think only three. I am overvalued and underappreciating. I am finally creating expectations that I will either not meet or stumble through in order to succeed. I should pick up the earlier Vertical Horizon albums. There is tumult all around now. I wonder how many hours I can get, this semester. I miss DDR, particularly with my roommates. I may not be the best in the bunch now, but I will rise again. I seem to conscious defeat my own developed plans, and thus now covertly fall into good ideas. I dreamed of sex recently. I have done that perhaps enough times to count off on a single hand. Less than the whole hand. I cannot wait to be a father. I cannot wait to be able to love in that way. ...I'm not having kids anytime soon, of course. I am thinking about a lot, as always. And I am so very tired. Goodnight.

...the masses have shouted 6 pleas for reason... -=Question my judgement=- [31 Dec 2003|03:51am] [ mood | busy ] [ music | Peter Gabriel--Burn You Up, Burn You Down ] So I haven't updated in a long while. Aside from the death of my uncle, in a long, long while. So I'm going to try to put a little order into life here, and give you various pieces of things that have been going on. G-Man vs. Real O.G. Apparently, when I was filling out the application for my FBI Honors Internship, I didn't realize that I had a better chance of discovering that I was actually a black man than I did of becoming a G-Man in training. 56 people are selected nationally for this thing; I'm no longer feeling so bad about not making the first cut. Dad claims that you'd probably have to know someone in order to get an in. I'm inclined to agree. It Worked for Clay Aiken So I might as well spike my hair, too. Just kidding. But I'm looking into the possibility of another far-fetched, elitist program. This time at UNC-Charlotte, one of a dozen or so universities around the nation that is playing host to the NSA's "CyberCorps" program, specializing in graduate and undergraduate studies in "information assurance & security." A bit of my league? Probably. However, I'm not going to tell -them- that! UNC Charlotte is a very nice, very new campus, and it gives me the close connection to home that I've almost missed while being at Ship. It's by no means a certain thing; I have to apply and get accepted to UNCC's graduate program, first...and then I get to apply for the CyberCorps scholarship program...now if I manage to get that, not only is the rest of my college paid for, but I get $1,500 a month just for putting my ass in a seat and the potential (near-promise) of a government job for as long as I did my graduate work. This is now my plan A. I have no idea how competitive this is, but I figure it'll help that UNC-Chapel Hill/NC State/Duke will probably draw away some of the superqualified kids, and my actual NC residency will be a small feather in my cap. If I don't manage to land this, then I think I'll set about looking for a job. School has been fun, but there's been 14.5 years of it, so far. I'm getting just a wee bit tired of it, and I have no problem with trying to set something up to go back later. We'll see what happens, there. My Dumpster, Get the Hell Out Sometimes, I certainly enjoy being a bastard. Most of the time, however, I really am a benevolent human being. I don't like to see people or things in unjust pain or suffering. Enter the final day of Thanksgiving break, as my roommate (Little Josh) and myself return from the Home Front. I'm pitching some leftover trash that I had, taking it to the dumpster...and there is a squirrel running back and forth in Seavers Apartments' nearly empty dumpster. The squirrel is jumping against the sheer metal wall, trying to get out, and still falling a couple of feet short of the top. Josh and wanted to help, the little bastard must've been cussing up a storm in Squirrelese (the most talkative squirrel I've ever seen, for sure), but we weren't exactly sure of what to do. We finally got the bright idea of sliding a tree limb down into the dumpster. Given the wide balcony we're on, our feet are about level with the top of the giant trash bin, with a slotted railing keeping us from falling in. There'll be no dumpster diving, certainly. However, strong winds had blown down tree limbs sometime earlier, and Josh managed to find one that must've been at least seven or eight feet long. I took it and slid it through one of the slots in the rail, dropping it a good four or five feet into the dumpster. I have never seen such a look of comprehension upon the face of a squirrel as I did when it saw the limb and jumped upon it. Small problem. There is a squirrel racing up one end of this limb, having been crawling about in trash bags for some time and fairly pissed off, and there's a confused Rob on the other end, not sure of where that squirrel is going to end up. I jerked the limb over and out of the dumpster like a fisherman trying to keep his catch from flopping back into the water, and the squirrel jumped off of the limb and down to the freedom of concrete flooring below. Score one for squirrel fishing. Wash With Like Colors Some things have just been on a ridiculous spin cycle. I'm not going to go into it here, but you'd think something was directing my life to keep ratings high, as resolution is lucky to last week-to-week, and is more typically day-to-day. Still not where I want to be, on some things. I wonder if I should be expecting that, by now. Regaining Your Childhood After an Incomplete Blackendectomy: Priceless I don't think Michael Jackson did it. I watched his interview on 60 Minutes this past Sunday, and told my parents that just like in most cases like this, I wasn't interested particularly in what exactly he'd say (when was the last time someone's first confession was to Ed Bradley or Morley Safer?), but in how he'd say it and what he wouldn't say. This is my assessment: Everyone knows MJ had shit for a childhood. He was pushed to perform, to be the star, from a young age. His level of success was so ridiculous, so overwhelming that it devoured his childhood whole, but then gave him the means and leverage to attempt to live it out again. In the Neverland Ranch, Michael is a kid again. There are rides, there are games, there is a movie theater, there are people to make Michael whatever kind of food he wants, probably to make his bed and etc. He has other kids over...and regularly. Why? Because he has become so delusional that he has firmly entrenched himself in this new, false childhood. Thus, he empathizes more with children than adults, and spends time with them as friends. They don't think of him as Michael Jackson the pop star, not after a while. They think of him as Michael Jackson, their buddy. A bigger kid among more children. He probably did get this boy wine, but not for the purposes of sex. The big brother or sister is so very cool if he or she can get alcohol or cigarettes for those that can't get it on their own. I think he's so far gone that he didn't realize how much he could compromise a cancer patient, but I never defended his sanity, only his relative innocence. Getting back to the matter of being a child, children think nothing of sleepovers. They sleep in the same bed all the time, thinking of it as something that indicates some deep level of camraderie. I don't think it's necessarily right for a 45-year-old man, even Michael Jackson, to have that camraderie. However, I do honestly believe that -he- does not see sexual contact on such a level as okay, and thus doesn't do it. He skirts a line to us, but it's all within the bounds of his own delusions. He plays the part of a doting brother when he holds his own baby over a railing. He's proud, wants whoever will look to see him. He might be crazy, he might be stupid...but I don't think he's malevolentt, and I don't think he's a predator. I -do- believe he's all but finished. After 1993 and this, families will likely be smelling blood. It was the smart move to fight now and not later, for fear of getting bled dry by domestic creditors. I look forward to seeing how the court case turns out. Palpatations 101 I was concerned about attendance issues in my Classical Piano I class. I was concerned about the effect that my poorly done resume (I was in a hurry and tired, and didn't edit it! Sue me!) would have on my Tech. Writing I grade. I had no idea how my group was faring in Software Engineering. I didn't even know what the hell was graded in Testing and Debugging. And then Networking. The final shat on me. I've never FAILED a final before that one, and hope never to do so again. Of course, it was a hefty grade, and busted my grade down accordingly. I have to keep a 3.25 to keep my scholarship at Shippensburg, and I'm not sure if I get a 1-semester grace period or not. How did the grades turn out, you ask? Tech Writing I: B+ Software Engineering II: A Art of Testing & Debugging: A Classical Piano I: A Networking: C Comes out to a 3.46. I was ready to die happy, the moment I saw that. Mein Leben! My computer waged war on itself. In an effort to outdo the competition at any price, my precious GeForce 3 (original model, top of the line at the time!) baked my poorly-assembled case and all of the dust in it, overheating my computer on multiple instances. Its behavior is suspect for possibly frying my floppy drive and network card last year, though neither can be proven. At any rate, it did stage a concentrated attack upon my sound card, killing it completely and leaving my speakers without any real friends (ew, mobo sound!) Upon seeing a Black Friday deal for a $70 ATI Radeon 9600, I dispatched my Dad to snatch one up (I offered to go! Get me up, I said! And he never woke me, it was glorious!), and quickly replaced my NukeForce 3 with the Radeon. Graphics problems have been fairly negligible, since. Though it doesn't seem to get along with the video capture card, at all. Mein Leben! Pt. 2, or "90 Days My Ass" After the loss of its nearly two dozen friends due to drug-dealing children of the ghetto and their associates, my PlayStation 2's heart was broken...and no replacement, not even of the beloved Soul Calibur 2, could mend the rift left by the lack of games. It is with this deep depression that my PS2 began to make grinding noises, and failing to run virtually any disc, unless smacked repeatedly by yours truly. Now, so long as I'm very careful when I move it, it seems to work almost as it should. I'm afraid to open it up, as I'm not sure what I'll come up with. I'll probably do it eventually, all the same. Smacking around my PS2 so many times just to get commentary on ESPN College Hoops is ridiculous. Oh yeah, and my RFU adapter just fell apart. Went leperous and gave up. It has since been replaced. Coffee Break, pt. 1: Literary Excerpt From Tad Williams's Mountain of Black Glass, book 3 in the Otherland series. "I am Ricardo Klement." "Really? That's GREAT!" *thud Coffee Break, pt.2: Song Lyrics Sarah McLachlan, "World on Fire" from Afterglow Hearts are worn in these dark ages You're not alone in these stories' pages The light has fallen amongst the living and the dying And I'll try to hold it in Yeah I'll try to hold it in (Chorus) The world's on fire it's more than I can handle I'll tap into the water try and bring my share Try to bring more, more than I can handle Bring it to the table Bring what I am able I watch the heavens but I find no calling Something I can do to change what's coming Stay close to me while the sky's falling I don't wanna be left alone don't wanna be alone Chorus Hearts break Hearts mend love still hurts Visions clash Planes Crash still there's talk of saving souls still cold's closing in on us We part the veil on our killer sun Stray from the straight line on this short run The more we take the less we become The fortune of one man means less for some I'm not sure how much it looks to be on paper, but it's really a phenomenal song. Listen to it, if you can. I'll bet right here and now that it becomes a single, it's got that x-factor to it. Pugs Killed the Radio Star I ran for General Manager of WSYC, Ship's college radio station. I'd been the HR Director, and while this semester took its toll on every part of my life (radio included), I was confident in the job I'd done. I was up against a good friend, Melanie Warfel. It was a win-win situation, right? ...so who hired the firing squad? Between the graduate assistant and his intellectual, yuppie lackey, I must've had two dozen questions fired at me -after- my speech, which I felt was one of the strongest deliveries I've ever given, if not the strongest. It ate away time, and ate away time...and I was first. Melanie rises to the podium, says how she isn't going to take up any more of the audience's time. Cheap shot! Obviously she wanted to win, maybe more than I did. I'm sure she swayed almost all of the news team to vote for her, which pretty much doomed me right there...I think a lot of what I was counting on as my support put down a no-vote, due to equal confidence...other supporters of mine got sick or simply couldn't make it. Surprises came in that I was apparently a write-in several times over for HR Director, and that a few people I thought of as not terribly big fans of mine were later emphatic in their support of me over her. Do I feel like I was robbed? No. I managed to snatch up Technology Director and RPM Director, which I think will be great fun...and I think the Grad Assistant was rather surprised with the cool head that I had during my experience with his firing squad. I feel like I might've been destined to lose, but I didn't imagine having to fight that hard to do so. That's life, I suppose. After seeing the beginnings of her job, I'm starting to be glad that she's got it and not me. Your Computer Has a Virus. "Am I Gonna Get Sick?" I have a job. For a few hours every week, I am paid precisely $5.15 per hour before taxes to investigate computer problems in the Student Union and Heiges Field House, and to repair when necessary, along with installing new computers, upgrading/retrofitting computers and taking inventory of the piles of stuff that the techology sector of the Cumberland Union Building can claim. I couldn't be happier with it. Swag! For Christmas this year, I racked up: ESPN College Hoops (PS2) ESPN NBA Basketball (PS2) Final Fantasy X-2 (PS2) 1.9 Megapixel digital camera ER: Season 1 on DVD Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: Season 1 on DVD Sound Blaster Audigy 2 ZS sound card 512 MB DDR RAM 36 feet of multicolored rope lights (24 of which is sound-sensitive) Dilbert Desk Calendar Green sweatshirt that says: "Sleeps in Class" (Thanks, Mom!) Case Logic 208-capacity CD case Wizard's First Rule, by Terry Goodkind Battery/Crank-powered AM-FM-Shortwave radio $25 gift certificate to Best Buy SSX 3 Soundtrack Tales of a Librarian, Tori Amos Afterglow, Sarah McLachlan Hit, Peter Gabriel Life for Rent, Dido So there's your update. If you have any further questions, ask! I'll be happy to answer. Thanks for reading this long, long post... ...and BT's Emotional Technology is still my choice for Album of the Year, unless you haven't gotten into Tori Amos and really want to, in which case pick up Tales From a Librarian first. Happy New Year. 0ver and 0ut. Sympatico?

-=Question my judgement=- Rest In Peace. [12 Nov 2003|07:19pm] [ mood | sad ] To my Uncle Tommy, now dearly departed: I hope this letter finds you well; I understand that from the rational side of my spiritual standpoint, you would never know that these words are being written. However, there is a part of me that intuitively knows that you do. I am sure that this letter will find you well. I don't believe that I knew you in your more troubled times, but I am just as happy to know that my memories are entirely of you in your better days. I almost remember your old home; I certainly remember once you redid it, and how nice it looked. I remember how it seemed as though your favorite chairs were recliners; a little bit older, I can't say that I blame you, as odd as it seemed to me as a little boy. Having a comfortable place to zone out and sleep can be as much as one could hope to have, sometimes. I remember how you had your little CB receiver by the recliner that you'd use; to this day, I still don't know why you listened to it, but I'm sure you had your reasons, and that was just fine by me. I remember your various knife collections, how'd you tell Dad about going to this show and that, displaying those that you were most proud of. How the blade was never the focus, but instead the handle or hilt that the blade fit into. And you had lots of elaborate, impressive looking hilts. I remember sometimes coming to see you when you were in your workshop, carving and shaping your next masterpiece; one of my roommates constructed a home entertainment center for myself, himself and our other roommates. I wish you could've seen it, I think you would've liked it. It doesn't have the country charm that you put into your own works, but I'm sure you would've liked it all the same. I remember the family gatherings, the holidays that'd have you bringing game birds that you prepared yourself, after Alan hunted and killed them. I'm sorry that we weren't closer; I'm not entirely sure how important those close family connections were to you, but I certainly enjoyed seeing you whenever I did, and hope that our limited relationship was to your satisfaction. I'm glad that you got to see most of the places you wanted to see, or maybe even all of them. I know you had plenty of family worrying over you, and I hope that their collective attention wasn't too much for you. I'm sure that, given time, Diane, Frances and Alan will be fine. I have no doubt that Daniel, Hanna, and Keith, your grandchildren, will miss you sorely as well. I don't know how Aunt Vivian is taking it all, but I'm sure that she's doing the best that she can. I admit to being a little worried about how little Michael must feel about all of this, but he'll turn out okay. He's a good kid, and I don't doubt that, as his grandfather, you had a part in that. Dad'll be all right. He's handling himself pretty well, but I'll be calling him again tonight, just to make sure. Don and Jo Anne are strong people, I'm sure they'll be okay too. I think that's about all that I can say, all that I know of, all that I could hope to articulate to you. Goodbye, Uncle Tommy. I will miss you. Your nephew, Robert Douglas White

...the masses have shouted 4 pleas for reason... -=Question my judgement=- Peanut Butter Jelleh Time [28 Oct 2003|05:39pm] My LiveJournal Trick-or-Treat Haul inefficiency goes trick-or-treating, dressed up as Richard Nixon. adroit gives you 18 green lime-flavoured gumdrops. antigone_talbot gives you 11 blue coffee-flavoured gummy bats. beejoo gives you 14 pink cola-flavoured gummy bats. galatyn gives you 12 brown chocolate-flavoured gummy bears. gatesofxibalba gives you 19 light green tropical-flavoured gummy bats. longanimity tricks you! You lose 3 pieces of candy! melancholibaby tricks you! You get an old sock. praesentia gives you 18 light blue cinnamon-flavoured pieces of taffy. seventeenarisen tricks you! You lose 62 pieces of candy! twisted_impulse gives you 7 mauve blueberry-flavoured gummy bears. inefficiency ends up with 34 pieces of candy, and an old sock. Go trick-or-treating! Username: Another fun meme brought to you by rfreebern.

...the masses have shouted 1 plea for reason... -=Question my judgement=- It's Just That Good. [12 Oct 2003|05:01am] [ mood | enthralled ] [ music | BT---Animals ] BT (feat. JC Chavez)----Somnambulist (Simply Being Loved) So little time, so little time I'm so frustrated So little joy, so little joy It's ccc o omplliicated So little time, so little time, t i m e to work it on out...yeaah e eahh h h So little jjjoy, so little joy it's complicated I feel I'm stumbling in the dDaarjjm som nam bu la ted I feel my heart seeking the s ssparks And I'm praying for love, love, l o v e {p}p p pprayiing for love So little joy, so little j o y it's comp ll lica teed[d] So little time, so little ttiime ee when your heart's been faded So little hope, so little hope I'm praying for love, love, love, is more than enough Simply being love, love, loved Simply being love, love, loved Simply being love, love, loved is more than enough..yeah yeah[x2] s i m p l y b e i n g l o v e d y e a h yyeaehaa iiis mooere thannn en neaufh h So little joy, so little joy it's complicated So little ttime, so little t t tttiiimee to get [acc] lim Aeh TEd So little hope, so little hope And I'm pPrppr r aying now for leuov yeah ah a[h]hh ah aHh a[h] So little time the pp pace has changed, but iimm stiiil waiitteing A thousand years of timeless days, som nam bu la [ting] I'm stumbling wounded in the [D A R K] But I'm praying again for love lll el lel[L]ovve, love Praying for l o v e Love, laove, loove Simply being loved(dddhea) Love, l o v e Simply bein g[loved] Love, love Simply being loved Love, l o v e Simply being love, love, loved Simply being love, love, loved Simply being love, love, loved Is more than enough, yeah, yeah Simply being loved, yeah, is more than e n oug h So little joy, so little joy, it's cCo[H]mpPlicaAteDd So little time, so little time it's so fFrRr ustraT[ing] So little hope, so little hope And I'm praying still for love lo v {e}, l o v e ___________________________________________________ Yes I know. Those lyrics are two E.E. Cummings style steps away from being trash. Nevertheless, I think whoever wrote BT's liner notes was trying to capture the digital effects used for this piece. And it's ridiculously addictive. I don't know how it's going to manifest itself, but I can see some creative trance coming from this track alone, like some of the songs I've heard in the past. It's just a matter of finding the right moment, as always. Tomorrow is a Software Engineering day; naturally, I'm not looking forward to it. However, we're beginning a new stage of development, called "Extreme Programming." To hear the perks and the attitudes kept within its philosophy, I would've thought it would've been truer to refer to it as "Evangelical Programming." We're playing the "Planning Game" tomorrow. Don't ask me how long that will take. I wish, even though it's a wish made in futility, that Shippensburg had the resources needed so that I could learn how to fence, as an aid to get my ass in shape. Of course, I may not be playing DDR, but with Josh circling around his girlfriend on a regular basis, I don't have much in the way of a partner, and I've seen that far more crowds are drawn when two people are dancing at once. I met a couple members of Zebrahead, two from The Juliana Theory, and one from Reel Big Fish today. This in a series of interviews for the beloved campus radio station. Ali and Greg from Zebrahead were an awesome pair of guys, and a lot of fun to talk to. Chad from Juliana Theory was all right, but Bret appeared to be something close to a self-absorbed dick. Maybe just a bit; maybe it was just a rough day, right? Scott from Reel Big Fish was something else entirely. Maybe you don't think much about the brass sections of bands classified as ska, focusing instead on the individual personalities that tend to shine through vocals and guitar work, but this guy was 100% musician. More than willing to talk shop about music, his favorites and those out there whose works he liked (and some he was iffy on) for as long as we wanted, despite the copy of Sammy Davis Jr.'s biography in his lap, waiting for more progress after 170 pages in 1.5-2 days time. I get the feeling that if I was less mainstream-minded in terms of music, I could've appreciated conversation with him more, but the simple fact that an Elvis Costello album shared space in the same organizer as the Andre 3000 side of OutKast's new album was enough for me. So it's been a fairly long day, to start closing out a fairly long week. I'm no longer sick with West Nile Virus, or whatever the hell it was that I had, but the workload is still there, simply stabilizing. I was planning on getting a fair bit done tonight, but progress on my paper didn't quite happen. I think I'll probably just try to finish it out reasonably early tomorrow, before I become sociable enough to drop the away message/come online. This to prevent hideously late nights in the future. At any rate, this is me, sleeping. 0ver. 0ut. Sympatico?

...the masses have shouted 1 plea for reason... -=Question my judgement=- It's a Whole New Ball Game [03 Oct 2003|12:48am] [ mood | accomplished ] [ music | My roommate watches The Nanny?! ] Conscious self Overall self Take Free Enneagram Test Nevertheless, we are in the business of droppin' bombs. My scholastic holiday begins tomorrow. My PlayStation 2 games have been stolen, but the parties that are likely guilty of thievery are gone. However, the party that can be held responsible remains, and since I can't prove anything, said party can only pony up half of their worth, and that over time. Better than nothing. So what am I going home with? My music keyboard, most of my textbooks, and a lot of research materials. As well as novels I've been looking to read, and music to listen to. A different kind of vacation. I'll be online when I can, and the cell will be on perpetually. 0ver. 0ut. Sympatico?

...the masses have shouted 1 plea for reason... -=Question my judgement=- Saturday I [06 Sep 2003|08:47pm] This evening's to-do list: +Answer WSYC-related e-mails, including those who couldn't come to the meeting, those who simply heard about the station and want to join, and administrative tasks delegated by the Program Director +Ensure that my code for the wordList class of KMR3's Spelling Game fits the coding standard handed down by Dr. Wellington +Adjust code for greater uniformity and effectiveness +Unit test code for correct functionality +Practice piano, 60 minutes or more +Attempt to have friends over for many rollicking rounds of Soul Calibur 2 +Learn a thing or two more about my University-loaned Palm. __________________________________________________________________ ...what the fuck did I do with my time.

...the masses have shouted 3 pleas for reason... -=Question my judgement=- What Time Is It, Again? [06 Sep 2003|04:02am] [ mood | tired ] [ music | Dirty Vegas---All or Nothing ] I know I haven't updated this in a while. I think I've commented on two journals since I've been back at school. Simply put, I don't have a whole lot of time for much of anything. It seems that whatever I do has to have a pracical purpose in order to keep getting done, with more things falling by the wayside every few days. So I'm keeping my LiveJournal. Particular as a set of reminders to myself, now...others are still welcome to see what's shaking, as always...but now it should have a bit more direction to it. And since I can hardly keep my eyes open, this fortuitious occurrance will start tomorrow. Must learn...time manamgent...

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