Dear in Christ.

I am Mrs. Elizabeth Smith an aging widow suffering from long time illness. I have some funds I inherited from my late husband, the sum of US$8,400,000.00 and I needed a very honest and God fearing Christian that will use the fund for God's work, I found your email address from the internet and decided to contact you. Please if you would be able to use the funds for the Lord's work, kindly reply for further details.

Yours in the Lord,
Mrs. Elizabeth Smith

---

I'm very sorry to hear of your loss and would love to help. I am a Christian, but I must say that I do not fear God. In fact, upon dying and arriving at the pearly gates, I intend to start a violent coup d'etat between the angels, creating a third faction in the battle between heaven and hell, reaping the tarnished souls of man and eating them to fuel my blood-rage war against the hubris of my creator. I shall rise above man, incarnating myself as a seven-headed beast and returning to earth at the time of judgment, singing the song that ends the world as boiling pitch spills forth from my demonic maw*.

I appreciate your consideration and look forward to hearing from you soon!

-Andrew

---

Dear Beloved ,

Peace of the Lord be with you! Thank you very much for your response. I want you to know that it is by His grace that we are called to serve Him and that my contact with you is not just ordinary rather it is a divine one from God. God works in mysterious ways that we human cannot understand. My prayer is that God should give you the divine wisdom to utilize the funds when it gets to you for the things that will bring praises to His Holy Name and for us to be in unity with the Lord. The funds that I am giving out are currently deposited with a Finance Company here in the United Kingdom and I will have to prepare a letter of authorization nominating you as the new beneficiary of the funds and send it to you and a copy of it to the Company, then I will give you the Company contact details so that you open communication with them as the new beneficiary. I will need your full names, complete physical contact address and telephone numbers to enable me prepare the letter accurately. Remain blessed as I wait to read from you.

Your Sister,
Mrs. Elizabeth Smith.

---

Sister Smith,

I fear I do not have a physical address or a telephone. I roam, alone, through the forest, subsisting on the ground feeders and lowly forms that are the deep forest's denizens. One day, when ascending a tree to stare the Lord in the face and express My detest and wish to battle him when this gaunt prison of a body passes this mortal coil, I happened upon a low-hanging telegraph line. Splaying apart a beetle and using its nervous system as the primary component of the darkest ritual, I animated it and communicate with the ether by interpreting the baleful keening it emits as the electrical impulses hold its soul in its hollow, mutilated corpse. Every day I laugh the laugh of the uncountable hundreds of dead children I have hidden in the lake, My lake, as I imagine the horror God feels each time I bend the infinitesimal soul of His most pitiful creation to My dark will. Sadly, I am only able to resupply Myself by downing nearby planes using the burning light from the damned eyes that inhabit the sunken, hollow shell that is My cursed face. If you would like, Sister Smith, I can give you My approximate latitude and longitude. I eagerly await the supplies I need to begin building My dark army of the damned. $8.4 million will buy Me an awful lot of hounds' gizzards and, if I may dream it, a collection of adrenal glands harvested from unsaved orphans. Soon, Sister, Our dark reign can begin. I shall rebuild your husband's decaying shell, Sister. This I swear to you, My loyal servant. I will reconstruct him as My most powerful minion.

-Andrew

---

*The sharp-eyed among you will notice my blatant Penny Arcade reference.

I eagerly await Mrs. Smith's reply.

User: Will the elder gods rise soon?

Cleverbot: In Iraq? I don't know. I hope so.

User: Cthulhu fhtagn.

Cleverbot: So, are you also Cultist?

User: Yes!

Cleverbot: What are you confused about?

User: Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.

Cleverbot: Can you give me an example?

User: In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.

Cleverbot: I bet he does.

User: Cthulhu will rise to rule over the dead earth, with the starspawn claiming their thrones from the frozen wastes.

Cleverbot: Is that so.

User: We cannot hope for salvation, we may only hope to be eaten first.

Cleverbot: Deep thought!

User: When the stars align the world shall be plunged into darkness, with the reality made apparent by light so frightening one welcomes the pitch black.

Cleverbot: That is a pretty good one.

User: We are all but food for the engine of destruction that is the dark will of Cthulhu.

Cleverbot: I have a spoon in my hand right now.

User: Do you feast upon the unliving?

Cleverbot: I wonder if that can be...

User: If not, then all is lost. Goodbye, friend. I perish this night.

Cleverbot: Okay.



I love how calm the bot totally is. Thank god nobody's taught computers to flip the fuck out.

I am prepared for a lot of flack on this, but...

Women's studies is stupid. Any one-sided analysis of gender is stupid. Have women been oppressed for thousands and thousands of years? Yeah, they have. It's terrible. You will get no argument from me. Has the feminist movement given women an unfair advantage over men? Hell no, and any man that says so should die in a fire. What is almost entirely neglected in the discussions on gender relations is this, though:

Women have, historically, had a strong role model in the home from birth until early adulthood. The same has been true of men in the distant past. I believe, though, that the patriarchal ultra-capitalist empire that is the industrial world has done a similar disservice to both sexes. It locked women in the kitchen, punishing attempts at independence with sexism, sexual harassment, and pay so far below the norm for men that it hardly counts as income at all. For men, however, it did another injury. It took away our dads.

Our fathers, when not working at the office (where they can't be a role model by remote), would be at home, hollow husks of humans that had spent all day navigating the social minefield that is the modern workplace. Forced to provide in a world that would not let their wives earn a living, they were jammed into male-dominated, jackal-packed industries and stripped of their children and the wives they loved for their entire productive day. Even in the brief time we, as boys, were allowed contact with our fathers, they could hardly be relied on to provide an example. The only social lesson they had left to teach us was to be afraid of Joe in cubicle B3, the backstabbing ass.

Even for those of us that had dads that knew how unnatural that arrangement was, our mothers simply couldn't provide at seventy cents to the dollar of what our dad could. Both mom and dad knew how unfair this is, but if the choice was leaving me emotionally crippled or dead from starvation, well, it's hardly a choice at all. This has created a self-perpetuating cycle of parentally deprived boys with no model of an ego. Vacillating wildly between indulging our collective id and placating our malnourished superegos, we could hardly be expected to have the emotional strength to respect the roles of anyone else, let alone women in specific, over our own brutal instincts.

We've been raised as a pack of wild animals, with nobody but our peers and their stories about their older brothers' sexual exploits to teach us how to be men. I may sound down on women's studies as a free-standing thing, but I guarantee that I respect the necessity of it as much as anyone else. Until it, as a study, can respect the emotional fragility and tenuous balancing act involved in being a modern man, though, it is worthless and doomed to fail. It's like dedicating your college career to studying how to solve equations while ignoring the variables. I'll save you the time. The problems are all impossible or too trivial to study. Men (or, at least the men I know) want to treat women the way they deserve. We just don't know how to change. In fact, we probably can't change society this generation.

All we, as individual men, can do is try to provide the parental support that our dads had cudgeled out of them by an uncaring world. I swear, if I hear one more woman yell at me about what my great-granddad did I will puke. Yes, he was an ass and unapologetic sexist. Now, please, respect that I want to raise a son to be better than myself and help me, and other men around the world with aspirations to fatherhood, do so. I cannot fucking support your movement if it labels me as The Enemy by default, but if you respect how hard my damn path to adulthood has been, I can respect you in kind. We can all be what we want, define our gender roles the way we damn well please, and make a better world. I can be understanding of the fact that women have the psychology of abused animals if they can be understanding of the fact that men have the psychology of abandoned ones.

We all need to work together, look at the situation as a whole, and try our hardest not to wreck our kids the ways our parents wrecked us. Hint: it's not done by labeling a whole sex as fundamentally evil. The common implication that men are molded from birth into inhuman rape machines lowers the dialogue. Every woman you convince of your penis-as-gun, gun-as-penis ideology puts us further away from equality. Do you support Plessy v. Ferguson? Apartheid? Then why would you say that, just because you and I are biologically different, we cannot have the same goals? Wants? Dreams? Just because I do not bear children does not mean that the raising, and nurturing, of any child is not my life's ultimate and all-consuming ambition. Beauty of womanhood my left ass. You're all filthy, horrible apes like the rest of us. That's what makes our unified achievements impressive.

I've not posted on here in a while, but I feel like I need to whine to the world in general about something. Everybody's favorite thing to read my thoughts on: politics.

This has been a trying time for me, because, for the first time in my voting life, I am in the political majority. Bush usurped the throne shortly before I cast my first vote, and I've been used to being the fightin' underdog ever since. Now, though, I see my friends and political allies using the same tactics that they used as the oppressed. They fight, they snarl, and they claw their way to where they want to be. It's charming when you are in the right and are being kept down, but that's the only time it works. We, as Dems, have the right ideas politically. We represent the little guy that might not be able to provide for himself from one paycheck to the next. We're the party that cares. Now that we're browbeating the other guys, though, it just seems... inelegant. Ungraceful. We're not kept down. I, in Texas, can say I always supported Obama with pride and without fear of being hit. I can say that I believe in maintaining the integrity of Social Security, and the only thing the Republicans can do now is politely disagree, because now I'm the sheriff.

So where's the bridging-the-divide you promised me, assholes? Some of my closest pals are right-wing ideologues, and I still rather like them. I disagree with them almost entirely, but I value their opinions and think an educated discourse is the only path to progress. Dare I say, reasoned dialog is the only Hope I Can Believe In (tm)(c). Just because an idea is worth believing in doesn't mean it's worth being an asshole over. Obama's doing great, but if the rest of the party doesn't start carrying themselves with the same poise and enlightened attitude then I am going to get really cross with all my hippie wheatgrass-munching bretheren. You're wearing the Big Boy Vest now, Democrats. If you can't wear it well, give it to someone that can. There are left-wingers out there that aren't dicks, and they ought to be running this show. "Universal health care" isn't code for "sneer like a popped-collar frat boy". Cut it the fuck out.

It's been nearly three years since I was last in St. Malo, the beautiful walled city on the Channel. Every couple of months my heart aches and my soul yearns to return. Less than a week there alone, and yet my spirit belongs to Bretagne. When I envision a concrete embodiment of beauty, I immediately replay echoes of ships drifting languidly across placid water. I owe that city the last three years of my life. My brief time there were a catharsis of detritus, and I would be remiss if I didn't credit it as one of the most important experiences of my life.

I would, with only a moment's notice, drop everything I own but my cat and laptop if I could have a small apartment near the walled city, a bicycle, a job, and a bottle of pastis. Who's up for coming with?

I'm feeling a bit blue as of late, and I don't know that I'm entirely appreciating the universe. This is sad, as I always considered myself a great appreciator of beauty in all things. Lately, though, I find myself getting very little out of activities/places/projects that I should enjoy. To combat this funk, I wish to come up with a concentrated list of things that make me feel passionate about life in general. Here are my ideas so far, based on what has been pleasing me the last few days:

-Potager
-reverse reverb
-balloons
-Linux
-24-bit sound
-J Dilla's "Nothing Like This"
-FPGAs
-Quaker Oh's
-hugs that mean something
-modern and post-modern visual art
-cats
-math
-inquisitiveness
-Ableton Live

Any other ideas for important things? What makes you happy? When you have a stream of crappy days so long that even an OK day feels like the Sword of Damocles, what do you do to cheer up? I really need a good day, and I intend to make tomorrow (today? It's late) just such a day.

OK, so I know there are a lot of super-math-savvy people on my friends list here, and I need a hand. I want to build a synth, and I'm designing a digital sine oscillator with variable symmetry. What I need is a good formula to work with. So far, these are the steps of my thoughts:

1: a(p)=sin(p), with p=phase
Now, this is useful... if you don't want variable wave symmetry.

2: a(p,w)=sin(p)^w
This is neat, because since the sine wave varies between 0 and 1, raising it to a power only modifies the shape of the wave, not its amplitude... except... shit, under many circumstances this winds up with a rectified sine, which is not of much use if you want nice, creamy transitions.

3: Where I am now
I want to create a formula that is as simple as possible (because I might be calculating it on a low-powered microcontroller) that will take a floating-point number for phase width and will find the two odd integers surrounding it (the ceiling and floor with respect to odd integers, which I will program as functions and can be assumed as usable here). It will then do a linear interpolation between sin(p)^(floor(w)) and sin(p)^(ceil(w)), based on where between those two odd integers w lies.

It's too late, I'm too tired to think any further, and I figured this might be a fun problem to diddle with. I know it's super easy, but I'm a zombie.

Any ideas?

Future problem for consideration, if any of you are super bored:
-Given a current phase value, a target frequency, and a sampling rate for the dac, what is the new phase value?

I think the last couple of weeks of torturing my body are finally paying macabre dividends. I've got a case of the shakes that would make Michael J. Fox cry (too soon?). I think I'm relapsing into the lame 48 hour bug that punched me in the sinuses a few weeks back. Fortunately, it's not too intense, I just feel enervated. I project another day or so of pulling my corporeal form through existence before I feel all human again.

On the bright side, I've discovered a new favorite sandwich. Yesterday I fried up some onions with some marsala and balsamic, and when they started to caramelize a bit I threw in a couple portabellas. I also had some boss roasted red pepper focaccia and some pepperjack, so I put the onions and mushrooms on the bread and baked it in the oven for ten minutes or so. It tasted like heaven. I may indulge in another one today. Hopefully that pleasantness will be able to overcome the dullness that has overcome my olfactory perception. I need a culinary hug. Maybe a nice soup? That would be lovely. A sandwich and some soup. And a blanket. And a nap.

Snooz'n USA.

Anyone who has not had the pleasure of having a cat conk out on their chest, all twitchy and dreaming of chasing birds, with Animal Collective playing in the background owes themselves.

I am the most pleased being in the universe. I can't even remember the last time I had so complete a feeling of contentedness.

I've just read an article describing the process of universities patenting the ideas of seniors going through their senior design courses, and I am irate. This is likely not a concern for most of my pals, few of you being of an engineering bent, but any of you that have gone through higher academia have probably worried about the idea of a professor taking your ideas as their own. Their argument is frequently that, as your mentors, they are responsible for creating the environment in which those ideas were seeded and fostered them to maturity. I, finally, have thought of a proper, reasoned counterargument that's more aggressive than just saying "that's not right."

When a company hires an engineer (or, similarly, when a publisher takes on an author) they largely own the rights to any ideas generated by their work. Engineers especially are prone to being sued by companies if, after leaving and forging out on their own with a new company, it becomes apparent that their ideas originated when they were working for their former employer. Though not always fair, I understand the case for this.

The difference between employment and academia is that, rather than being paid, your are paying for the privilege.

If anything, your professors are employed by you.

So, you paid for any work they did for you, and as such...

You own their ideas.

Suck on that, prof!

Thoughts? It's only the first mix, so I'm open to suggestions.

I've spent eight years toadying to the whole disgusting lot of Texas right-wingers, but that ship has sailed. All aboard the HMS Spite. I shall spend the next four years giddy with glee as my cruel revenge is exacted. I shall crush you, fascists, in the way most painful for you. Our leftist retribution shall take the form most abhorrent to you.

The next four years shall be four years of success for me. I shall live in relative luxury in a tiny left wing utopia. You shall all detest me for my happiness. The worst bit? Oh, I save the worst for last.

You will love it. A rising tide floats all boats. The strength of the new economy will bring back the success you remember from the 90's. You'll love it all, and you'll hate that the most.

Obama '08! Woooooooooooo!

I am suffering from a random and terrible case of vertigo. I'm on day two of a lame head cold, but I did not expect this entirely. I always forget how crap being sick is. When I first notice the indications of an oncoming pox I shrug it off and think it's no big deal. 48 hours later I'm sweating and hallucinating Gary Coleman in hell. Not cool, body. Not awesome at all.

I am posting this from my new G1! Yay sexyphone!

I am slowly but surely gaining an appreciation for post-bop and avant-garde jazz that is bordering on fanaticism. I am at great risk of becoming a jazzbo. Someone kick me if I start wearing a pork pie around and begin talking fondly of the "old days" as though I were alive either in the 1930s, lived in New Orleans, or some combination thereof. I must say, though, that Mingus, a gin and tonic, and a poor mood are a great combination.

-Star Time 2 - Push-pull interplay of bass and lead sublime.
-The Coathanger - Airy drums. Oddly reserved, even with crazy vocoder.
-Open Society - Wait, what? Acoustic guitar with reverse reverb? How... excessive.
-A Real Woman - Electro-jazz Ramones rip. Happy Days on mescaline?
-Delta V - Jazz Sabbath? Thick, distorted bass. Black Flag on Mingus? *throws metal sign* *wears tweed*
-Aqueduct - All sound design. I've had nightmares that sound like this. All clanging, no substance. Considering all that, still quite palatable. How?
-Potential Govaner - Yes, you are a very accomplished musician. Showy, but fun in a technical way.
-Planet Gear - HUGE. Like looking at a tear in the universe at its periphery.
-Tensor In Green - A soundtrack to a Jim Woodring dystopia, all flying newts and twelve-story tall cogs enshrouded in smog.
-The Glass Road - A bit confusing. Sounds like the good Mr. Jenkinson forgot a pack of jumping beans on his hi-hats. Early-Police type melody starts to redeem about 30% through. SONG CAT IS LONG.
-The Glass Road - Yes, the same song. The same very, very long song. Actually good by the end. Boring as hell outro. Skip the last minute. Probably just a time-stretched sneeze.
-Fluxgate - Set phasers to bore. A Border's Books under attack by the Enterprise. Blessedly short.
-Duotone Moonbeam - YES, YOU ARE A VERY ACCOMPLISHED MUSICIAN. FINE. I KNOW. STOP.
-Quadrature - HERE we go. THIS is a beat. Well balanced, with a simple guitar complement. Light synths. Clean rhythm. All in all, an actual song.
-Yes Sequitur - FUCKING YES, I KNOW. No more classical guitar! It makes you sound like a douche! Weak close, album would have been better closing on Quadrature.

I do not know whether to build a stirling engine or a tesla turbine as the secondary part of my solar power apparatus. I tend to favor the stirling engine due to its ability to run on hot air alone, but the tesla turbine seems more easily constructed and more efficient, if I can guarantee that the collector will generate enough to heat to make a continuous supply of steam. I would also have to make a closed system that would recirculate the water, but I don't think that would be too difficult.

Can livejournal give me an answer?

Everyone wants to lower their electric bills, and alternative energy is becoming more and more compelling. Wind power is great, but building a windmill high enough to get optimal placement in a residential area is against most building codes in most locales. Photovoltaic cells are insanely expensive. Solar power, though, is the right way to go, I think. The best solution is a parabolic reflector. The usual parabolic reflector looks like this:



There are a few issues with this. Well, there's only one issue. They are a bitch to build. On the other hand, flat-wrapped steel is easy to form. So my idea is this:



Make some parabolic guides out of wood, bend a sheet of steel to conform, polish to a mirror finish, put a piece of copper pipe that's been spray-painted black along the focal line, and hook the resulting steam holocaust into a stirling-based generator. Simple, cheap, easy to produce, and zero carbon footprint. My power bills are about to be stupid low.

Also, this could be done in developing countries to boot-strap electricity in small villages to power electric tools that would improve the standard of living for our poorest and hungriest. But whatever.

More pixel art! Featuring forlorn Japanese pixel things, no less.

Pixel art is fun!!