tin omen

moveable type
September 2004


15:05 in irk

11:58 <@pw> iSync vs Outlook! STEEL CAGE MATCH
11:59 <@pw> <Outlook> A program is trying to access your email addresses. Would you like me to fuck up the synchronisation attempt? [yes] [yes]
12:00 <@pw> <SonyEricssonCrappyWinSyncThing> Mein Leiben!
12:01 <@pw> <Outlook> Grar! None shall pass! Even if it's you and your phone!
12:01 <@pw> <iSync> All done.



13:54 in irk

10:42 <@rjbs> \n on the rhs means "NUL"
10:42 < solios> :O
10:42 < solios> so what's NULL, then? :|
10:42 <@rjbs> NUL or NULL?
10:42 <@rjbs> NUL is ASCII character zero.
10:42 < mdxi> NULL is SQL
10:42 <@rjbs> NULL is, among other things, SQL notation for "no defined value"
10:43 < mdxi> also, 0x00 (NUL) should not be confused with 0xFF ( ), which should not be confused with 0x20 (SPC).
10:44 < mdxi> also, irony, that thing inside the parens after 0xFF is 0x20
10:44 < mdxi> (convenience)
10:44 < mdxi> YAY ASCII
10:44 < mdxi> FUCK COMPUTERS
10:45 < mdxi> fagbot: ascii
10:45 < fagbot> i think ascii is embedded in UTF-8 though. i mean, it's the same in both, hexwise.
10:45 < mdxi> indeed it is
10:45 < mdxi> fagbot: ascii is also |<reply>At least it's not EBCDIC

Nothing is true. Everything is permitted.

The basic disruption of reality occurs.

Or should.

Sitting here roiling in technolust and locking into the lust addiction, the thrusting empty longing for useable hardware. Suction. Alas, the spare six grand sitting around to affect such a transition reclines in another life, its place in this one occupied by a lock into this funky situation in which Work and the home Work Station exert a magnetic sort of brainsucking reek, sucking motivation like a cheap whore salivates, saturating pubic hair.

Lot's of gear to rework, lots of shit to throw out. Hard decisions versus inertia, the iron maiden of personal preference, social morres, ease.

It's a slow process, the slack and the ennui and the boredom and the struggle to surmount the dumb realization that this isn't it, this isn't the place, or the time, or even productive.

Sluggish, the life of self-imposed temporally unladen goals.



The End of the Internet
16:36 in irk

13:08 < Arbo> Boredom.
13:08 < Arbo> What good is the Internet if it can't entertain me at every possible moment?
13:09 < Arbo> The very-near cummulative knowledge of mankind exists just beyond the google search.
13:09 < Arbo> But it's boring now.
13:12 <@solios> you ran out too?
13:12 <@_Lasar> Heh.
13:13 <@_Lasar> I guess all of us have seen everything there is on the internet.
13:13 <@solios> well, everything of interest.
13:13 <@solios> I'm down to the creepy anthroporn that makes my balls hide behind my tonsils.
13:13 <@_Lasar> More than that, unfortunately.
13:13 <@solios> yes.
13:19 < xeno> solios: better than your balls hiding behind, you know, someone ELSE'S testicles.
13:19 < xeno> ...
13:19 < xeno> TONSILS TOO
13:23 <@solios> ...

PPAC : Power Slack
15:55 in irk


12:52 <@solios> THUNDERCOCK!
12:53 <+_Lasar> PPAC doesn't have a web site.
12:53 <+_Lasar> How can we be lazy about bringing out content if there's no site for it?
12:54 <@solios> because we are THAT. DAMNED. LAZY.
12:54 <@solios> PPAC++
12:54 <+_Lasar> PPAC: So lazy, it doesn't really exist.

The Ticker (soulseek)
02:46 in irk

02:38:17 [Zarathustra] that ticker.. needs to be updates.. someone fix it..
02:38:40 [=] It's hide ticker on room join
02:39:14 [=] Inu you still here I was looking for news ticker plugin for firefox earlier today you know any
02:39:14 [deadcityradio] the ticker needs an off switch.
02:39:17 [deadcityradio] :|
02:39:30 [deadcityradio] or I need to figure out how to use it to spam. :P
02:39:33 [Zarathustra] i dont see a setting anywhere in nicotine
02:39:46 [deadcityradio] see?
02:39:52 [deadcityradio] it's a FEEJUR
02:39:54 [InuYasha] i dont know of any,
02:40:08 [=] thing is you get used to ticker and its like... i dunno its like you smoke crack and walk around, every little white pebble looks like a rock of crack. That's what the ticker does to you.




Rent is paid. Laundry is done. I forgot to buy food.

Memory's kind of shitty lately.

On deck this week: Some work on Dead City Radio, backup scripting on Gridlock, and another page or two of ATC.

Fortunately, a lot of what I'm Doing looks a lot like various day job activities. This is a fine thing, as I'm in one of those lengthy periods where I feel like a member of a PennDOT road crew. Which is to say, ornamental. In this case, however, it's a function of manegerial singlemindedness, as opposed to union belligerence. All hopped up on a project I don't come in on for another six weeks and I'm spending a good ninety minutes a day repeating this fact, and other facts, aud infinitum without progress. I understand why Dilbert is so damned popular and I'd love nothing more than to make a living off of one of my two passions.


01:59 in irk

22:47 < solios> fagbot: doot for the internet



Stiff Neck.

Otherwise, Fine. Despite spending most of the night playing quake while my coworker's workstation copied itself to an external drive. Minus a few corrupt files that were making life hell for everyone on the box. Maxtor drive, and it'll probably need replaced, meaning we've had problems with both G5s within their first year of operation.

in other news, bda has better entry titles than I do.

He's also a lot more to the point.

With this subject, I've realized that's important.





Consumed an entire gallon of Sunny D last night with no heartburn or bleah. Bed at two, woke briefly at three and was up for about fifteen minutes around nine. Three hour blink, shower, Dayquil. Break for downtown. Brought the bottle with me. Can't really see the point of going through work all bleagh and stuff when I can just nuke it on the spot. Comfortably fuzzy and numb- nothing in the way of The Hate today. Fever broke on the 61c, leaving me all warm and cold sweaty for a half hour or so.

Cashed my paycheck at the check cashing place and got two money orders- one to cover September's rent (late), and one to cover October's (early). Which means I live off of what's in the bank for two weeks and pay bills with the next paycheck. There's actually enough in the bank to pay a couple of bills this month and get to the next paycheck, which proves there's a first time for everything.

Mister Discman made the bus ride into and out of downtown quite pleasant, though being bombed out of my gourd on NyQuil is certainly contributing to the overall sense of wellbeing.

VMS and Hippies
15:20 in irk

12:10 < mdxi> i am so serious. reading through the Pink Book, almost every page has a VMS "feature" which explains why something else sucks about DOS
12:10 < solios> mdxi: such as?
12:11 < mdxi> most obviously, / as an argument delineator
12:11 < mdxi> though in VMS it worked like this
12:12 * rjbs imagines the bastard VMSNIX: /usr/bin/ls\l\o:s
12:12 < mdxi> and \ wasn't the path separator, : was
12:12 < solios> er.
12:12 <@rjbs> that's why I said "VMSNIX"
12:12 < solios> so I'd rm/rf home:solios ?
12:14 < mdxi> no, you'd do something like ERASE/RECURSIVE/FORCE GRPWRK:FWOA1:PACK:HINDER
12:14 < mdxi> and then it would tell you that you can't do that

12:58 in irk

22:31 * peter farts a ripe real-ale fart at solios_
Day changed to 24 Sep 2004
09:57 <@solios_> eek.
09:57 <@esch> hah.
09:57 <@solios_> yeah, well.
09:57 <@solios_> the fart had to cross the ocean, yo.
09:58 <@esch> ...




I've got my Dayquil, NyQuil, Pizza, Hot Wings & Cheesey Blue, and enough Sunny D to kill a moose. Emphasis on the moosekilling. AND I have the world's shittiest rip (56kbps, 22.05khz) of Messiah's 21rst Century Jesus, the world's {awesomest|cheesiest} rave music. Fuck your visors, this shit is hardcore. Had the album years ago and lost it somewhere along the way. Still trying to find a hardcopy.

Splitting a sick day straight across, which means I actually get a decent night's rest for a change, and get to do some work on bills, etceteras. Assuming I'm reasonably coherent on Friday. Whoo. In the meantime, I feel like I have a few quarts of radioactive sludge about to fall out of my nose. About. Perpetually about. It hasn't, though. Maybe it will.

Left work at 1530. So. Much. TRAFFIC. Total gridlock on the south side. Long, long wait on Birmingham thanks to a badly placed traffic light on 22nd. Sun at that horrendous angle where you can't see anything, regardless of how polarized your lenses are. Whiteout. Too many people spending too much time doing absolutely nothing. Waiting. Headphones and Cel phones. A new appreciation for my work schedule.... I hit it right, it's a clean shot in and I almost never actually leave before dark.

Human congestion. Arteries, clogging.



Okay, so. Yeah. Uh. Soft but solid sludgy light as a feather heavyweight bodyache congestion overdrive, with a side order of stressed out ligaments (hands). Stuffy, sneezy, achey, dopey, and the other three dwarves sort of thing. Staring at Pittsburgh Deviants while a sixteen minute video runs through its looping paces. Anaesthetic contact-numbness mindsludge, opposing loosely-knit pins and needles deathrot of monday, tuesday, and most of wednesday. Slurpy, disassociated.

Likelihood of burning my first sick day after paychecks show up: 95%
Likelihood of going on a NyQuil bombing run tonight : 100%.

03:33 in irk

00:22 <@ejp> ...
00:22 <@ejp> so I did that FS character quiz thing.
00:23 <@ejp> Apparently I'm Pilot
00:27 < solios> :D
00:27 < solios> And I'm Aeryn.
00:27 < solios> Go figure.
00:27 <@ejp> it fits.
00:27 < solios> me? or you?
00:27 <@ejp> both
00:28 < solios> :o
00:28 < solios> WE UNIFY PORN
00:28 < solios> so you have four arms and no legs?
00:29 <@ejp> I can multitask out my ass. you, well, kill shit.
00:29 < solios> AND I deny my sexuality.
00:29 <@ejp> yes
00:31 < solios> At least I don't get ripped in half in a Vin Diesel vehicle.



18:38 in irk

15:32 <@bda> )*@#$%LKSDJFL:KJ
15:33 <@ejp> ...
15:34 * ejp make a note, never date a girl named Laura.
15:34 <@bda> Oh man.
15:34 <@bda> Sounds so familiar.
15:34 < solios> bda did that so we don't have to.
15:34 < solios> HE TOOK ONE FOR THE TEAM MAN.
15:34 < solios> bda: <3
15:34 <@ejp> s/one/ALL OF THEM/
15:35 < solios> :|
15:36 <@bda> :D


(or, the Sugar Shock memos, part $something.2)

21:55 < solios> omfg I feel like someone is BARFING IN MY HEAD.
21:55 < solios> MAKE IT STOP



I need to ___________ this week.

This entry was made 2004-09-20 21:01:26 and was future-dated for 2004-09-25 21:01:26, on 2004-09-20, only to be changed back to the 20th on the 22nd. kthks. Obvious reasons.

[ ] Pay Rent. (thanks to a malformed decision to deposite my paycheck and it taking all of six chronological days to clear, I've missed my mental window and keep forgetting about it.)
[ ] Pay Bills. (ditto, but not so much. I'm so not into keeping track of this shit that it gets dropped out of memory the second I can squeeze it out with something else, like remembering what color green means on stop lights.)
[ ] See HR about direct deposit of paycheck. (see bills)
[ ] Get back on ATC.
[-] Stay sober. :P | 09.23 | Found out the cider at an Equinox feast was slugged with Rum, so I've failed this one on a technicality.
[x] Clean my room. :P | 09.22 | Made some headway. Need furniture and storage containers, etc. to actually put a proper dent in the mess.

# All of this in addition to the usual workweek BULLSHIT plus feeliing like Complete Ass in addition to everything else.
# Whoo. Yeah.
# The To Do List strikes back.


I'm not sure which is more irritating- being forced awake at five fifteen in the morning by the warning signs of a liquid bowel movement Death Star blast ; waking up at ten thirty, fifty four degrees outside (and inside) and totally dehydrated; or the fact that it's September and I'm wearing PANTS.

Log Analysis
01:06 in irk

22:01 < john> anyone here use webalizer and it's internal dns resolver?
22:01 < solios> anyone here install webalizer and get it to work?
22:01 <@ejp> nope, I use(d) analog.
22:01 < solios> I apted it and it's all :P
22:02 < solios> oh, wait.
22:02 < solios> it's working now.
22:02 < solios> sweet.
22:02 < solios> silly conr.
22:02 < solios> CRON even.
22:02 < solios> ldfk;gjklsdfgj
22:02 < solios> >:|
22:02 < solios> I can't believe this shit.
22:03 < solios> gravicon.deadcityradio.org has gotten more hits in two days than ATC has all fucking month.
22:03 < solios> :<
22:03 <@ejp> bahaha
22:03 <@ejp> people are fuckin scary man.
22:04 < solios> you have any idea how DEPRESSING that is?
22:04 <@ejp> I'm surprised you didn't expect it.
22:04 < solios> I GAVE THE LINK TO TWO PEOPLE.



Dreams (Contradicting Reality)

Contrary to what my head's been telling me while I'm out of it:

1. Xeno has both arms, instead of just his right. (last week)
2. My father doesn't have tattoos. Or if he does, I've never seen them. (back, left shoulder, last night)
3. I've never had sex with my aunt Becky (last night and the night before, what the fuck.). At least, it seemed like it was her. Grandparents house, same basic build and complexion and everything else, though closer to my age. Go figure.
4. My cousin Amanda was, in fact, not at goth night last night. For some reason, my head reran a lengthy chunk of the evening and stuck her in it, cameo style. Red dress you could count her ribs through. Given her penchant for starving herself, I'm sure she'd agree with the visual- my thigh muscles weight more than she does and there's absolutely no reason to speak of for her to have cropped up in such a fashion.

I blame getting a full night's rest instead of my usual six hours of sleep for this.

16:31 in irk

13:21 <@solios_> fagbot: doot for my pipe
13:21 <@fagbot> christless cupertino fuck box
13:21 <@solios_> !!!
13:21 <@solios_> well, it IS a mac...
13:25 <+_Lasar> :)
13:25 <+_Lasar> Is there a Jesus painted on the side?
13:26 <+_Lasar> I thought so.
13:26 <@solios_> no.
13:26 <@solios_> it's christless.
13:26 <+_Lasar> It's also a box.
13:26 <+_Lasar> So we've yet to explain the fuck.
13:26 <@solios_> it has a slot.
13:26 <+_Lasar> WHAT DID YOU DO TO IT?!?!?
13:26 <@solios_> :|

419. Descent.

Descent being the Godflesh track kicking up on entry.

Walked the Brimingham. Picked up a Euclidian bit of wood on the outset and played the bridge Live as PPAC for a bit. The Chant And Polyphany of The Decay. Pittsburgh rots around me and few notice. Salty. Pitched the instrument into the Monongahela when the set was complete. A distant sploop, and gone. Nothing. Quiet.

Def Leppard stuck in my head. Photograph, specifically. Roommate is damaged, awake, recovering. I'm going to be VERY hung over tomorrow.... nowhere near where I NEED to be outside of the mindset. Location is off. We'll see how come the workweek. Currently, there's an affinity for hard industrial crunch with a weakness for 80s glam and nobody to share it with.

You'll have that.

Spinning, listing, leaning- rather literally- to the right. Still in pants, about to rip the boots off, the jeans off, the eh off. Relax and pass out and fuck responsibilities, you only live "once", right?

Yeah. That's what I thought you'd say.




Spent last night getting the gravicon loaded and .htaccess info emailed to the Very Short List of people who've been given access to the site while it's still in development. Most of the bugs seem to have been worked out, and the database and actual data has been moved from a non-routable IP range to an actual address.

No, you can't see. It isn't finished.

Went out to the Upstage and left after about twenty minutes. The crowd and the music were so horribly off that I felt like I'd stepped into outtakes of Lost Highway. Shitty outtakes. It was horrible. Who the FUCK wears FLANNEL to an electroclash night? WHITE TRASH THAT'S WHO.

So I went to Dee's and proceeded to get stupidly drunk while talking with Pete Moon about the military and later with Pete Moon and Randy Chambers about the military. Then Randy and I wandered around until four after walking Pete home. There's some neat locations on the south side if you've been around long enough to get to know them- abandoned lots and empty parking decks and rotting rail lines. All kinds of decay. At least the air smells good down near the river.

I've spent today basically sitting here surfing, listening to Def Leppard, and moving files around in between various webservers in my bedroom and New Jersey. But mostly, Def Leppard.

I found a clean pair of underwear, which means I don't have to do laundry today. It's sixty two with a projected low of forty five. I may need to wear pants when I leave the house. :| Which I'll be doing for food and happy fun Goth Night here in a bit.

Monday I'll be winding down my pillow-boobs and bubblegum lips kick and getting my ass back on ATC. Unless the workspace refuses to allow it, like it's been doing over the past month or so.

In the meantime, cleaning.



Serial Number
15:57 in irk

12:53 <@bda> The serial number on the box and what OS X Server's setup is asking for don't match.
12:53 < solios> er.
12:53 < solios> that blows.
12:53 < solios> phone it in.
12:54 <@bda> The format is a-111-bbb-222-ccc-333-ddd-444-eee-555-f.
12:54 < solios> yes.
12:54 * solios is, unfortunately, all too familiar with apple server keys.
12:54 <@bda> And uh. The serial number on the box is: aa11111aaa1.
12:54 <@bda> wrt alpha/nums.
12:54 < solios> erm.
12:54 < solios> wait.
12:54 < solios> "on the box."
12:54 <@bda> On the machine itself.
12:54 < solios> that's the machine serial.
12:54 <@ejp> that's the machine serial
12:54 <@bda> Oh, it wants..
12:54 < solios> that is not the OS key.
12:54 <@bda> Yeah.
12:54 <@bda> >_<
12:55 <@bda> :D
12:55 * solios falls over.
12:55 <@ejp> solios: we need to not do that again.

12:37 in irk

00:38 <+_Lasar> Your collection rules.



Irkland : Population Five
17:47 in irk

14:39 <+_Lasar> We should all meet up in some obscure corner of Europe and form our own country.
14:40 <+_Lasar> irkland.
14:40 <@solios> SEALAND
14:40 <+_Lasar> Yeah, like that.
14:40 <@xeno> !
14:40 <@xeno> yes!
14:40 <@solios> :D
14:40 <@xeno> and we could be SEAMEN!
14:40 * xeno slaps solios
14:40 <+_Lasar> ...
14:40 <+xenia> ...
14:40 <+xenia> Haha
14:40 * xenia falls over.

Today in History
17:21 in irk

14:17 < solios> the first car bombing in history was today. 1920.
14:17 <@john> "Car bomber given shittiest possible cara" --Onion
14:18 < xeno> Mayflower left england today. 1620.
14:18 < xeno> coincidence? I THINK NOT
14:18 < solios> Sep 16 1999
14:18 < solios> Disney Infoseek executive Patrick Naughton travels to the Santa Monica pier to meet a 13-year-old girl he was attempting to seduce via an Internet chatroom called "dad&daughtersex." The girl was actually an undercover cop. Disney fires Naughton almost immediately after the news breaks; the executive later pleads guilty to the charge of crossing state lines to have sex with a minor.
14:19 * xeno slaps Disney
14:19 * solios blames the mayflower.
14:19 < xeno> whatever happened to entrapment being illegal?
14:19 < solios> it _is_ illegal.
14:19 < solios> if you ask they have to tell you.
14:19 < solios> IF you ask.

Modest Mouse
13:24 in news

10:06 < xeno> < modest_mouse> We're the Monkees NO WAIT THE BEATLES NO WAIT THE BYRDS NO WAIT WE SUCK THE END


Still waiting for a video I'm supposed to be subtitling to show up. Listening to Godflesh : Messiah : Sungod. Excellent tonal structure. Crunchy bass thing with higher pitched oscilllating something and illegible vocals with a heaping pile of CRUNCH on top.

Not the Fear Factory, Grip Inc, Killgore, BASS AND {LEAD|RYTHM} GUITAR AND DRUMS kind of crunch, either. This is much more the tank-treads-on-pavement, cement mixer, wrecking-ball-dropped-on-a-cow kind of crunch. Electronic without so much as a hint of the two-turntables-and-a-micraphone incompetence that has shat itself all over digitally processed music.

I like Godflesh. They don't have the two things that make a lot of music irritating- Attempted {Deep|Relevant} Vocals and treble. I used to be really into trance, but apparently there's some kind of law that every trance track ever has to have a really long, really irritating treble break just at the point where it should be getting interesting. Treble makes it hard to concentrate. A bunch of wankers in a band thinking they've got something to say is even more irritating, and Godflesh has none of this. This lack of nerve-grating noise and absense of pretention is practically a fucking first in my listening experience.

Music isn't something I can talk about easily- mainly because I really don't like masturbating all over some particular sound like it's gods gift to my pleasure center. Every music reviewer in the universe does that. It's a Rule, it's fucking pathetic, and it gets old. Word of mouth is the only thing that's ever sold me on music. I know how my friends communicate, and it's easy to tell when they're into something and what precipitates the liking.

I like Godflesh. They're hard, they're {slow|sluggish|powerful|dark|grindy|HARD}, and I appreciate that. They don't do annoying things with hooks, they don't dub in female vocals because it's trendy, they don't shit treble all over the place, and most importantly, they don't fuck around. It's a hard, slow, deliberate drive, and I can identify with that. It's easy to get work done with Godflesh blasting in my ears.

This sort of industrial death grind is an aquired taste, much like everything I've been listening to for the last seven years. Hell, I've Slavestate and Selfless for around four years and it's just recently that I can stand to listen to more than Perfect Skin (Dub) or Slavestate (Total State Mix). Not the kind of band you can skip around or scrub through. In short, everything I like about techno, everything I like about death metal, and nothing about either genre that irritates me.

Around the time I quit smoking, Slavestate (Total State Mix) became something of an anthem. This was mentioned to Peter, and Peter, it turns out, likes Godflesh. And, it turns out, I like the rest of the Godflesh discography. Quite a bit.

After a few days of it, everything else feels harsh on the ears.


(or, the Sugar Shock memos, part $something)
Unlike previous editions of headsludge, I'm not actually bitching about anybody. So I'm leaving this one up. The others have all been turned off and are sitting in the database, unpublished. o_o

==| >_< |==

Clean long enough to sink back into the sluggish hell of inertia. Walked home tonight for the first time in a week, found myself getting progressively pissed off at the universe and my current position in it- the molten kind of rage that causes MacOS to crash at ten paces, makes routers pingout, and levitates every drunken assFUCK IN A TEN MILE RADIUS to that magic spot SIX INCHES IN FRONT OF YOU. Hence you walk in the street in order to proceed at anything resembling a normal walking pace. Which is apparently four to six times the walking speed of anyone else.

Ragey kind of night. The speakeasy router up and died with no warning, coming back up after roughly ten minutes of HATE and screaming and yelling over a dialup on IRC while a shitload of terminal windows froze up. Came back without the nameserver. Quick edit, back online and back to watching my iMac periodically lose its network connction.

Disconnecting: Corrupted MAC on input.
lost connection

I'm sure you've seen that one before. OS X was fine on the system- Debian sarge with a 2.6 kernel didn't know what the fuck to do with the ethernet card, though a 2.4 woody install on a beige g3 autorecognized and configured everything without incident.


It's never one thing at a time- it's always whole ton of shit at once. It's like the physical process of sex translated into massive software/hardware failure fucking me in the brain and ejaculating RAGE all over the inside of my skull. Difference is that afterwards, I'm just kind of irritated and go back to what I was doing- whereas with sex I'm so completely drained I feel like I've run twenty-six miles on an empty stomach with pockets full of cinderblocks and a colon full of lead.

Easy to hate when you'd rather be elsewhere doing elsethings. Easy to get tripped up and bitchy when you know you're barely getting paid enough to give an illusion of value to the amount of time you're wasting doing things that aren't your things for other people.

Critical mistake of ingesting a hell of a lot of caffeine and an extremely sugary energy drink in close proximity around five. Combine with the fact I'm hormonal and hate it (seeing as how if I masturbate, I go mentally comatose for the rest of that day and all of the day after and I actually USE my brain for STUFF sometimes) with the fact my brain feels like it's sloshing around with warm sand, and.... yeah. Rage is easy. Clarity isn't. Finding some point to getting out of bed and going to work when I'd sooner be skee-shooting hard drive platters with an AK-47 out in the woods isn't, either.

So. Questions.

1. How in the heck can I remotivate myself into getting the fuck out of this town? I keep drinking my fucking paycheck because despite the shittiness of hangovers, being drunk makes this shithole suck that much less for a little bit. That's a pretty serious drain on cash that could go into ejecting me... but to save, I have to be sober. And being sober in Pittsburgh is about as tolerable as being stark naked in Siberia. Flag as an issue.

2. Where the FUCK did my energy go? I've been about as peppy as a slug for the past week. Caffeine doesn't kick me up. Sugar doesn't kick me up. Exercise doesn't kick me up. I've tried everything legal and am about to resort to methamphetamines and jumper cables on my fucking testicles in the HOPE that the jolt will make me feel AWAKE for more than TEN SECONDS.

And hey- if it sterilizes me in the process, that's one less piece of Doom I have hanging over my head. :) I hope I'm sterile- the possiblity that I'm not makes sex (on the rare occasions that it happens) almost totally unenjoyable due to the white hot fear that the act could quite easily send me straight to hell- no money down, no payments for nine months but CHECK OUT THAT INTEREST RATE.

Oh, and it's 2:50 am and there is a fucking ghetto blaster BWOM BWOM BRAAAAAAWOOMfing away. Right outside.

My day is complete.



Jack Daniels and pancakes.

Whee. Went out, sat on a barstool, and got the layouts for the next scene done last night. Also had a few drinks. Earlyish, which turned out to be a bit of a bonus, as I ate afterwards and spent several hours abusing broadband afterwards. Woke up feeling a hell of a lot more human than I have in days.

Started preliminary configuration of gridlock's web bits. Made SuExec Go, I think, and .htaccess'ed a couple of Critical directories. Eric turned on port forwarding, though the box ftp is routing to is being a whiny little bitch. This is kind of annoying, but not really- xeno will just have to use an sftp-capable client to Do Stuff. :P

Ran into Pete Moon. Turns out he didn't get pulled for Iraq due to a technicality, though he's on deck for Afghanistan. He's actually kind of excited about this- Pete would have shipped to Iraq with a bunch of sucks, but the Afghanistan post is with Special Forces.

I mean, really. Who would you rather have watching your ass while you fix tanks? Some redneck named Cletus, or the Punisher?




Apparently, Xeno's from Io. Or his sphincter trained there.

In other news, I've finally reached the point in my life where Godflesh is Good. Also, appropriate.

Oh, and I'm going drinking. On a Tuesday. Because my workflow is totally fucked without nicotine.

We Unify Porn
17:44 in irk

14:33 < mdxi> "In addition to the default Screename Services supported by iTrick 2.0, this version includes hard coded support for: Adam4Adam, Bear.net, Bear411, BearForest, BearMen, BiggerCity, BigMuscleBears, BoysNetwork, CruiseTool, Gaydar Intl, ICUII, ManHunt, Men4Now, MyGaydar, ResourcesForBears, Squirt.org, and WorldLeatherMen."
14:34 < mdxi> "This version automatically includes the following services: AOL/AIM, BarebackCity, BarebackSex, CruisingForSex, Gay.com, GayWired, ICQ, IRC, M4M4Sex, Men4SexNow, MSN, PlanetOut, Sex4HotMen, Yahoo"
14:34 <@ejp> also "Gaydar Internatioal". hehe
14:35 <@ejp> so, 1/3 of the internet is gay sex.
14:35 <@ejp> 1/3 is other porn.
14:35 <@ejp> and the remaing 1/3 is blogs.
14:35 <@ejp> that's sad.
14:35 <@john> /porn
14:36 <@john> ie, livejournal
14:36 <@ejp> and ~. is the Nexus.
14:38 < mdxi> what, haircare products?
14:38 < mdxi> that's right back to gay
14:38 <@ejp> we unify porn, gay porn, and blogs.
14:41 < mdxi> i think that can be shortened to just "We Unify Porn" without losing much
14:41 <@ejp> probably.
14:41 < mdxi> Best Mission Statement Ever
14:42 <@ejp> yes

14:17 in site

Still using the 2004.2 interface. Gutted the top table and replaced with single 720x89 image. Now using one image for mercury, one for LOC. Some thing, different type. Did it yesterday for the original "port" of LOC to Dead City Radio, which Didn't Happen for technical reasons.

So it's getting used anyway.

Ditched background-as-a-graphic, replaced with straight bgcolor declaration of #333333. Fits the new header, probably looks like complete shit on Windows gamma or dark monitors.

A properly calibrated display is the responsibility of the user.

Well, this is handy.

Pismo had a full charge when I left work last night. It's been in my backpack since. I get to work, I plug the powerbook in and turn it on.... it boots and immediatly goes to sleep. Refuses to wake up, so I pull the battery. Still plugged in. Doesn't come back up. Pull the plug, do a hard reset, plug it back in with the battery still pulled. Doesn't come back up.



Well, ten minutes of sitting there doing nothing seems to have done the trick. Doesn't help that I can't hear the power-on bing! over work area noise. Or my coworker trying to talk to me over work area noise. Or my headphones over work area noise. Or myself think over work area noise.

Feeling almost human after The Death Hangover. Still short attention span, still audio-sensitive.

The powerbook battery is, however, completely dead. No bones about it. It's gone from holding a ten minute charge for eighteen hours to dying in its sleep in less than twelve over the course of a month.





Bryan hits the big two-five. And he turned comments off, or I'd give him an earfull.

Of course, I've just spent the last ten days not working on ATC. So. :P

Woke up at ten on the nose- minutes before the alarm- on something like four and a half hours of sleep. During which my neck exploded some more. Caffeine-colored strychnine hangover thing. Synaptic discharge, can't focus for shit and I'm actually writing typos, not just typing them. Immediate short term memory craps at somewhere around thirty seconds, a minute if I'm trying.


Fortunately, broadband means I can now listen to Godflesh at work. Huzzah. Means I can scrub out the snip of some pop song I can't identify. Sounds like Sponge, only shittier.


The research found that the rising rate of 15-year-olds with behavioural problems correlated to their increased chances of experiencing a range of poor outcomes as adults, such as homelessness, being sacked, dependency on benefits and poor mental and physical health.

From a Guardian article reporting the results of a three-generation study of UK youth. Which, in my opinion, can be extended to US youth... only we have eminem and Gangster Rap. Which makes things a lot worse for us, you ask me.

Thing is, it's kind of a Given. I'm happy there's some science to back it up, but it's still a Given. What the fuck reason is there to be happy when you know you spend the first eighteen years of your life in public prison, the next two to ten years paying to spend your life in public prison (albeit a more enjoyable one), and then the rest of your life in a fucking cube farm putting up with bullshit.... knowing full fucking well there is NOT going to be a support system in place by the time you're old enough to need one because your parents (the Baby Boomers) will have already sucked what's left of it stone dry?

Yeah. The youth of the civilized world isn't looking forward to a life of cube farms and food service. Not everybody gets the cool jobs. We know this, subconsciously. Just about nobody gets to do what they want to do with their lives and we're realizing this earlier and earlier.

And that's fine by me.

The more people that catch on to the fact that life isn't going to be what they're looking forward to, the more of them aren't going to take it lying down.

And that's fine by me.



The Demon Was An Idea
22:11 in news

The Demon Is Awake.

Also, hung over, grumpy, and still waking up. The Demon will have its shit together before the month is out.

That is all.

21:04 in irk

18:00 * solios contemplates pancakes.
18:01 <@ejp> waffles.
18:01 < solios> no.
18:01 < xeno> O_O
18:01 <@ejp> WAFFLES!
18:01 < solios> the diner waffle iron broke four years ago.
18:01 < solios> they haven't fucking fixed it yet.
18:01 < xeno> ...
18:01 < solios> so, pancakes.
18:01 <@ejp> this is not a polite suggestion.
18:01 < solios> fagbot: karma pancakes
18:01 < fagbot> pancakes has karma of 14
18:01 < solios> fagbot: karma waffles
18:01 < fagbot> waffles has karma of 22
18:01 < xeno> see?
18:01 < solios> WELL THEN.
18:01 < solios> pancakes++
18:01 < solios> pancakes++
18:01 < solios> pancakes++
18:01 <@ejp> waffles++
18:01 < solios> pancakes++
18:01 <@ejp> waffles++
18:01 <@ejp> waffles++
18:01 < solios> pancakes++
18:01 < xeno> karma whore
18:01 < solios> pancakes++
18:01 <@ejp> waffles++
18:01 < solios> pancakes++
18:01 < solios> pancakes++
18:01 < xeno> KARMA WAR
18:01 < solios> pancakes++
18:01 <@ejp> fagbot: ignore solios
18:01 < fagbot> ejp: O_o
18:02 < xeno> ha.
18:02 < solios> o_O
18:02 <@ejp> I have been betrayed. :(
18:02 < xeno> i can type faster than both of you fucking put together. I'll negative karma both pancakes /and/ waffles into oblivion.
18:02 < solios> fagbot: pancakes?
18:02 < fagbot> i think pancakes is the better part of valor.
18:02 < xeno> waffles?
18:02 < fagbot> waffles are good.
18:03 <@ejp> don't make me use my super powers to enforce waffle superiority.
18:03 < solios> fagbot: karma boobs
18:03 < fagbot> boobs has karma of 48
18:03 < solios> CASE CLOSED.
18:03 <@ejp> I can't go buy boobs 24/7.
18:04 < solios> Move to nevada.



20:22 in irk

16:29 < esch> I'm missing baseball.
16:29 < esch> This is unacceptable.
16:37 <@solios> dweeb.
16:49 <@solios> k.
16:53 <@solios> heh.
16:59 < xeno> fag.
17:00 < xeno> baseball == watching grass grow
17:01 < esch> You obviously know nothing about watching baseball.
17:08 <@solios> you've obviously never been to a Pirates game.
17:15 < esch> I hate their hats.
17:19 <@solios> yeah, well.
17:19 <@solios> I hate their fans.
17:20 < esch> You hate everything.
17:20 < esch> You need a nap.

Shitting on Postscript.
04:28 in irk

04:09:35 [qowoox] what is an m4a file?
04:12:07 [koffiekoek] a rifle target in postscript

Tokyo Halogen

This is rumor control. Here are the facts.

Eric made NAT work. Eric is God.

I'll be spending this weekend catching up on my taste. My taste has changed quite a bit since last I had the opportunity to indulge it.

Specifically: Noise, Punk, karma.

Tara gave me a ride home from the bar. The bar played music I haven't heard since 1997 and the bar played Bauhaus. I walked past three stores that were open the last time I looked to the left to get to the bar. I waited twenty minutes amidst a sea of Stupid to catch the bus.

I'm drunk, and a nicotine-free system has had a very strange effect on my alcohol tolerance. Namely, I've more of it.

That is all.



The Young Man And The crh.noaa.gov
17:45 in irk

14:20 <@ejp> latest.gif
14:20 <@ejp> :|
14:29 < solios> ejp: that coming or going?
14:29 <@ejp> coming.
14:29 <@ejp> all storms come from the water.
14:30 < solios> :O
14:40 < mdxi> "All storms come from the water," he said as he stared at the radar image and then out to the sea and then back at the image of glowing on his screen, the glowing phosphors a poor substitute for the roaring storms he saw in his mind. He knew the storms, they came season after season, and there was nothing man nor God could do about it. The storms would come, and all storms come from the water. Then he fed a small gerbil to a snake.
14:40 < mdxi> -- Ernest Hemingpree

I'm working at my job, I'm so happy.
15:35 in irk

12:29 <@rjbs> booting with raid.i doesn't seem to help.
12:30 * rjbs will try scsi.i next
12:30 <@rjbs> I just don't want to fucking learn this.
12:30 <@rjbs> This is not my job.
12:31 <@bda> I. Hate. Computers.
12:31 <@bda> raid.i?
12:31 <@bda> What?
12:31 < solios> I'm an artist, not a fucking sysadmin.
12:31 <@bda> What are you trying to do?
12:31 * solios kicks apache.
12:31 <@bda> Is it a hardware RAID or a software RAID?

The Factor Infinite And Annoying Strikes Back

Up until four trying to get services together. At some point man disappeared and ifup/ifdown stopped working, with ifconfig gone after a reboot. Did an extremely minimal reinstall and ^c'ed out of the setup script that runs on first boot. Gave root a password and intalled only the shit that the system needs. Everying's on, everything I know how to configure works. Everything I don't.... doesn't. Hopefully Eric or Bryan will be able to look at it at some point in the next 36 hours.

On the upside, I don't have to worry about crap like dialing in to the modem bank anymore.

Hopefully routing and everything else will be Done at some point tonight or tomorrow, and I can start enjoying this whole broadband thing. In the meantime, I have a serious coffee hangover and feel like ass. Whee.

The Factor Infinite And Annoying

Unconfigured linux makes my eyes bleed. Ditto getting linux to use SCSI on a beige g3. I got home at five thirty, had the base hardware up at six, and had a functioning install by around eleven. Eight. Fucking. Attempts. To figure out that it just didn't like the idea of root being on SCSI, to figure out which module the kernel needed to actually see the damned drive... format the drive, get it into fstab and mounting, etc.

DHCP works. My head hurts. Eric's currently a sudoer and making DNS Work. I can't wrap my head around it. Probably due to lack of food, too much coffee earlier.... something. Wanting to get too much done at once. :P



All aces, straight home bases.
15:54 in news

Left work at three, caught a bus in less than two minutes. Home in ten. Ben had intercepted the hardware around a quarter to two. Slapped on the filters and set my workstation up in a test configuration. Bounced out and caught a bus back to work in less than two minutes. Back in less than ten.

Currently shoveling home some mp3s I accidentally deleted some time ago. I'll be doing a Proper Configuration later this evening and should have a solid start on getting shit sorted out by the weekend.



00:51 < solios> rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh.
00:51 < solios> fucking HORMONES.
00:51 <@bda> Heh.
00:52 * solios applies chainsaw to testicles, spends rest of life clearheaded.
00:52 < solios> I hate this shit. Once every 4-7 weeks, I can't fucking THINK and I get all bitchy and WOMEN SUCK THEY ARE EVIL HULK SMASH and then I go crazy, masturbate until I'm raw, sleep too much for three days, forget about it and get back to business. Repeat.
00:53 < solios> Stupid biology.
00:53 <@bda> uhm.
00:53 <@bda> TMI.
00:53 <@bda> kthx.
00:53 < solios> yeah, well.
00:53 < solios> now you know.
00:53 < solios> and knowing is half the battle.
00:53 < solios> :)
00:53 < solios> AND I SLEPT IN YOUR CLOSET.
00:53 < solios> YO JOE!
00:53 < solios> :D
00:53 <@bda> I'm okay with losing that half of the battle.
00:53 <@bda> If you jerked it in that closet, I'm going to kill you.
00:53 < solios> heh.
00:54 < solios> dude, I don't jerk it in other people's homes. That's just Wrong.
00:54 <@bda> Yes.
00:54 < solios> public restrooms are fair game, however.
00:54 <@bda> o_O
00:55 < solios> also, the greyhound bathroom.
00:55 < solios> and all eleven men's rooms in the old Art Institute of Pittsburgh.
00:55 < solios> </tmi>
00:56 <@bda> ...
00:56 < solios> SIXTY-SEVEN!



revenge of the ultraslack

I blame the weather. It's cold, it's wet, it's gray, it's shitting hurricane leftovers all over the place and if I wanted Blade Runner I'd be working downtown, where the architecture fits. And dominates.

Loop gets closed tomorrow. Hardware shipped yesterday. Fucking UPS (pronounced "fuck-UPs"), unfortunately. So if I'm lucky, I'll get pipe by Friday evening. If I'm not, I get to wait until Monday or Tuesday.

Set up the cron tab on the new workplace webserver. Banged around with Mac On Linux, got both 9 and X booting. Hardware virtualization is fast, but odd- both operating systems think they're on a generic 400mhz g3 with a mouse attached and no network. Still need sound, still need TCP/IP. Photoshop on 9 on Linux is a fuckload faster than Photoshop on Classic on OS X. Kind of depressing, really. Makes me wonder how useable my home workstation would be. I'd be able to use my Wacom tablet and AEII keyboard if I ditched OS X. But I'd lose my iTunes library and a hell of a lot of video playback capabilities.

Dual booting is an option.

Frigging rain. Pants and sweater weather for a change and I'm shorts and a t-shirt. Shiver.

Why do these things need titles, anyway?

Sometimes a timestamp is more appropriate. I don't title my notebook entries. I timestamp them. Vaguely, along the lines of "Tuesday. ~noon. 18/carson for 54c. Or similar.

Slack Fu continues. Did laundry (Rod Stewart-singing, soft-rock blasting, mumbling, vericose-veined yinzerthing attendant on duty), Got groceries (Do you have an Advantage Card? I'll think about one when having an Advantage Card means I don't have to wait 20 minutes in line....). Shit I should have done yesterday. :P

Utrecht was closed, the bastards. They close at seven weekdays. Means I'll have to stop in on my way to work.

I have a craving for a new sketchbook, and would prefer a mechanical pencil. Less to carry.

In other news, Linux is smarter about battery life, it seems. It accurately predicts the decay rate of the old battery's charge, giving roughly ten minutes. Compare to MacOS insisting on four hours of battery life, then throwing up the OMFG NO POWER! errors ten minutes later. That's an improvement. Solve the sound thing and I'll have something Greyhound Rated.

I'm even more Behind Schedule than usual. I STILL have email to catch up on, and I have yet to re-crib and revise the script for the next scene of ATC.

Rubber bands are funny things.

Snapback from the Push of quitting cold turkey, I imagine. Still miss it sometimes, but not really. Adapted fairly quickly, all things concerned. I actually like the itch to Get Out. Go figure.

Covad closes the loop on Thursday. Hopefully I get the hardware Somewhere between today and Friday.

Took a piss a few minutes ago, overheard my friend Roy Talking Movie with my roommate Ben. Overheard this last Tuesday night while I was doing disk cleaning on Roy's iMac, and I gotta tell ya- listening to other people talk about a film script is a lot like watching old people fuck. It's the kind of boredom that induces violence, a sort of perverse distortion of the treatment they gave Alex in A Clockwork Orange. Only with Norton Utilities instead of lidlocks. Four seconds of a voice down the stairs and around the corner and gah. Glad I said "fuck off, I have my own projects" when I did. So very, very glad. I don't say "fuck off, I have my own projects" enough. Or rather, I didn't.

I continue to repeat myself in that respect very nearly every time I've pulled my artwork out in public. As a consequence, I've stopped doing such. Everyone wants me to do their stuff. Everyone wants me to do it for free. Or worse, drugs.

And I would. That's the zinger. I fucking would if even ONE of these fucking yo-yos spit out something that sparked my interest.

But no.

No surprise that all the zingers out there are penned by lone gunmen who work their own hours, their own pace, and aren't dependong on anyone else's attitude or opinion.

Spiraling off into a Bitch here, but hey. Better to cut it where it is and just state clearly for the record that these friends of mine approached me multiple times to work on their project. Multiple times I had the presence of mind to say "show me the money." Having overheard how they work, I'm not even really interested in that anymore. It's all I can do to keep my mouth shut. I don't need another project right now. It's their thing, it's their pie, and I'm quite pleased my finger has never been in it.



ph34r the gunstar.

First post from linux. O_o

Things are more or less configured useably at the moment. Netatalk is on, I'm using some windowmaker battery monitory, kde and gnome (and the respective *dms) have been erased, and I'm running xdm with a nice little .xsession that launches bbkeys (with keybings for an xterm, firefox, etc), sets the wallpaper, and so forth. It's extremely functional. Not the nicest thing in the world, but blackbox whups the shit out of kde and gnome in terms of overall useability, if you ask me.

Still don't know if I'll be keeping linux on the system or not. But it's looking better now than it was this weekend. Still need to get sound to work and see if I can make mol Go. Aside from that.... hey, it's Useable. 1024x768 doesn't feel like 640x480 anymore. :D

Joyful Slaughter (of the Capitalist Swine)

I still think it's funny that my parents gave me shit for not applying myself in school. Aside from a heaping dose of the Punk Rock gene from my dad's side of the gene pool, all I can say is that I had an inherent grasp of what Gatto's saying.

From the link:

School is like starting life with a 12-year jail sentence in which bad habits are the only curriculum truly learned.

I am not a number, thank you. Don't expect me to enjoy being forced into behaving like one for twelve years. I'm quite fortunate in that my dad gave me Heinlein, my mom got me into 4-h and cub scouts, and I had Mrs. Ritter subverting me with Kurt Vonnegut in second grade.

These days, I'd probably be thrown into therapy, branded a Subversive, shot full of thorazine and otherwise chemically lobotomized for (rightfully) thinking the Herd Mentality assembly line was Not For Me.

Personally, I'm happy that there are people in the system who know just how fucked the system really is.


Doubled the dose. Head's clear(er) and sounds like Whitehouse. Awesome.

Still bitchy, but it's more of a general :P than it is >:|.


Bitch, bitch, bitch. Can't breathe, yo.

Woke up to itching eyeballs and a six hundred pound decaying bat carcass lodged in my nose, which gave way to a subconscious itch, heavy eyelids, and the numb stupidity of a brain wrapped in sixteen layers of hot wet cotton DUMB. When I CAN breathe I'm sneezing like a fucking machine gun. The rest of the time, I'm expending massive amounts of energy sucking air into the half-milllimeter passage that's still open in my left nostril, and I'm feeling bitchy and very, very STUPID because my BRAIN does NOT HAVE ENOUGH OXYGEN TO FUNCTION on account of said oxygen being forced out by FUCKING ALLERGIES.

Breakfast with a side of Bob Dobbs

Showered and left the house around nine thirty. PEE EM. For coffee. Also to get my hair out of my face- my recent weed-whacking has given me a whackass Savage Henry forelock first thing in the morning. "First Thing" being a span of something like ten hours today.

Today. I. Did. NOTHING.

Well, basically. I sort of wanted to buy food and do laundry, but that didn't happen. Instead, I made a halfassed start on cleaning my room and watched a whole hell of a lot of video. In the process of cleaning, I found a ten-pack of DVD-Rs and have been slowly boiling off some disk. It needs to be done. I've also milk crated most of my comics, marked some hardware for disposal, and am (generally speaking) more or less about as far as I can get into a reorganization without additional storage media (shelving, etc) or some pretty fucking serious destruction.

Myself, I'm leaning towards the destruction. Eject everything I'm not using, excluding the machines that have been pressed into furniture. :P We're talking gear so damned old that I can't even give it to people who need computers.

I've been looking around and thinking do I really need this shit? and so far the answer's been "no, but..." for a lot of things, which is kind of annoying.

I remember once a conversation with my roommate of the time, in reference to our approach to space. His attitude was one I'm all too familiar with- to him, space is meant to be filled with stuff. "You get older, you accumulate shit," he said. He couldn't really grok my approach, or rather, my take. Space is there to be emphasized. Spelled out. Underlined and bold.

Some of the shit that needs to go is obvious- most of it clothing I haven't worn in forever. Bitrotted CDs. Old and unused or unuseable hardware. It gets finer when it comes to data backups- I know I'm not going to need any of it until I throw it out, which makes it half tempting to do so, if for no other reason than to see what I actually need out of the past. Where's the line between nostalgia and viable? Memory and baggage?

Some of this shit I need to either pass off or burn. I don't know why I'm still lugging my entire AIP visual output from house to house when it all sucks shit and should be put to the torch. :P

The video games and the old art and the hawaiian shirts and the hiking boots and the RPG books and dice aren't me any more. They may well never have been to begin with.

Despite periodic hedge-trimming over the years, I still have my wisdom teeth. And three rolls of undeveloped film. I think they are from 1998, and I have no clue what's on them.

I forgot about them for quite some time, remembered them last week and have been pondering getting them developed ever since.

Time capsule. Photos don't eat much space.



Edge of the World

(Faith No More)++

Good wind-down music after what has, in effect, been a completely wasted day aside from some doodling for Project Halcyon.

Looking around, there's a good amount of shit I can definitely throw out. I've thrown out cigarettes, I'm throwing out celia (still, though much less), I threw out six inches of hair yesterday.... and I'm staring at a pretty large pile of beige gear with a pretty thick layer of dust on it and realizing ain't nobody using it. Time to run the garbage disposal, put away the toys, clear some space, etceteras. Easier to move forward when the shape of the past is holding you.

I want my OS 9.

It's Two Thousand And Fucking Four and linux takes longer to boot than OS 9 on my powerbook. Which takes more time to boot than OS X. Which says something.

I like how there's config shit for Sony VIAO laptops cluttered in menus on a PPC disto. I like how it's 2004 and EVERY MOTHERFUCKING MACINTOSH THAT HAS SHIPPED IN THE LAST TWENTY FUCKING YEARS HAS ONE FUCKING MOUSE BUTTON AND LINUX STILL DOES NOT COMPENSATE FOR THIS ON POWERBOOKS. Or desktops. But I have a three button Sun mouse plugged into my iMac and I'm not bitching about the desktop. I'm bitching about powerbooks. And the fact I'm fucking stuck running OS X on hardware that's way too slow for the task because apparently everyone ever who uses linux on a powerbook runs console and doesn't use X11. Ever. For anything.

By the way, Apple portables are the only things out there that still use ADB keyboards. Check the goddamned Gestalt ID, check the goddamned hardware config, and spit out a goddamned message that says control-click is right-click and option-click is middle-click or some shit.

Twenty fucking YEARS of one-button mice, one-button trackpads, one-button trackballs (early powerbooks), and The Buzzword Free If Your Time Is Worthless OS still can't tell a goddamned pismo from a VIAO. Or make sound work. I've done two Debian (sarge, kernel 2.6) installs in the last month (iMac, powerbook), and neither one of them came with working sound. The iMac gave me a short list of options I didn't understand- the powerbook skipped that step. Out of the four machines I've booted the installer on (g4, blue g3, iMac, powerbook), one horked on SCSI and two couldn't determine the ethernet card. The powerbook was the first one to get it. See the bit about the fucking one-button mouse, folks. Apple hardware doesn't exactly change drastically five years after it's been released. Oh, AND the powerbook hung during the boot process repeatedly- until I detatched the firewire disk I'd thrown the "OH SHIT!" backup of MacOS onto.

At least X works, thanks to mdxi. No thanks to the four NON-WORKING x configs I found and the numerous references that "pismo xfree configs are easy to find!". Sound doesn't work (no surprise), and the trackpad, naturally, doesn't even pretend to be useable.

I like how just about the only thing I NEED in a desktop OS is long filename support, tabbed browsing, an email client and an SSH client, and OS 9 is missing one of those. Most of the other OS X shit is handy, but I don't exactly need it to do what I do. I should not be seething fucking PISSED about a MASSIVE FAILURE OF DEVELOPERS TO NOTICE THE FUCKING OBVIOUS just so I can run a current fucking web browser on four year old hardware. 'cuz, yanno, unlike most consumer geekthings, I can't just go out and buy a fucking new laptop because I feel like it. I have to make do. Which presently means making do with OS X because I seriously lack the skill/patience/savantism to figure out a few "simple" things like sound and RIGHT FUCKING CLICK.

In OTHER bitchy news:



Money, Speed, Upgrades

I wanted a raise, so I quit smoking. Worked out nicely, or has so far. Still working out the details.

I want a new laptop. Mine's showing its age- it has a SCSI scar across the flat panel, runs OS X like a pig on ketamine, Thunderbird sucks balls on it, and... yeah, my battery's basically dead. It discharges if I don't run the machine plugged in every single day and holds charge for all of ten minutes. The gunstar's taken four solid years of abuse and has finally been marginalized by software bloat.

So I'm getting a speed upgrade on my powerbook the same way I got a raise, sort of. I'm reformatting the fucker and putting linux on it. I have a spare battery- one I've only used in vehicles. It's still happy. All I use the powerbook for these days is email. That's it. That's all. Sometimes photoshop in OS 9. Five pounds of portable email. I totally don't need OS X for that. In fact, my options on OS X are all pretty damned shitty.


Problem is that the current sarge build barfs on booting from a firewire CD, which means I get to do all of the surgery at home. O_o

Star Wars Episode 2 (out of context)

Snip of an email from the Male Parental Unit:

I was watching "Star Wars Episode 2; Attack of the Clones". During the scene where Anikin and Senator Amidala were having dinner at her hideaway, Anikin starts blubbering and whinning about how he feels for Amidala. That scene hit me as being so goddamn disgusting that I blew up! I openly announced Anikin as being a goddamn whinny-assed pussy, and he should stop his goddamn blubbering and go walk it off!

My dad rules.

I've only seen ep2 on DVD, and I skipped every Amadala scene- after ep1, I'm about as into Natalie Portman as I am being the victim of an Australian Rugby team gangrape. Cutting out the whining, the movie was something like ten minutes long. :P

I do believe dad's summed up my feelings about Lucas's "script" quite nicely.

18:16 < xeno> :D
18:16 < xeno> the thing about it though was, that's the whole point
18:17 < xeno> he /is/ a whiny-assed pussy
18:17 < xeno> "someday, i'll be (sob) the most powerful jedi ever (pout). I'll even be able to stop people from dying"
18:17 < xeno> "and i'll wear a big samurai-helmet so i can make faces behind it."
18:20 < solios> point. Doesn't mean I like seeing my favorite childhood BADASS as a whiny little BITCH that even PRISON FAGS wouldn't want to be in the same room with.

Warp City

Cut my hair. Too short, and wrong. It works, but I currently have anime-style jaw-length "bangs" that are hovering about the idea of being in the ponytail thanks to hair gel. The actual ponytail itself ends right above the neckline. Hasn't been this short in awhile. Cut it myself, which I've been doing (badly and inexpertly) since I moved to this town. It's a ponytail. I'm a guy. Low fucking maintenance, yo.

Bumped into J. Lorenzo on the South Side while waiting for the bus to Oakland. I went to school with him and haven't seen him since. He's lost weight, gotten a car, and grown his hair. Barely recognized him- he spotted me first. Only thing that's changed on me is that I've discovered hair gel, changed styles of mirrorshades, and taken to grooming.

Had coffee around four. Practically shit my pants. Or rather, shit concrete right into my eyelids. Fortunately, that was the bad part of the day.



PPAC : Raw (Chafed Edit) (Olestra)



Raw : Chafed Edit is a remix of Raw (Drone Edit) by Acceptable Losses. Mixed by Solios (PPAC Angst Lead) at the Fortresss of Solitude, 2004.09.03. 4.6 megs, 96kbps. There's a higher quality version, but it's not friends with the modem.

No musical instruments were harmed (and by harmed, we mean used) in the creation of this track- either by Acceptable Losses (who doesn't use intruments, at all), or PISSPOWERASSCHRIST (Who might. At some point. If somebody has something that can be used as one.). BAD IS THE GOAL.



17:40 in news

The past three weeks, as an IRC log:

< bodine> All my friends have moved. This sucks.
< sean> I'm moving!
< kate> I haven't seen any of my friends since I got back from Europe. They're all gone. This sucks.
< smith> All my friends have moved. This sucks.
< solios> Man. I miss Isaac, Mike, Justin, Kramer, Hatkowski...
< solios> All my friends have moved. This sucks.


Placed the order with Speakeasy. Hardware cost/rebate was cheaper than I remember- which means (in theory) that costs have come down since the last time I looked into this. Awesome.

Also, I don't get billed until the shit's running. Double awesome.

Still need to get Direct Deposit activated, and look into GIVE ME MONEY PLZ options for ATC and other projects.

And.... one of my superiors decided to go home early on account of not feeling well in a timely, passing-the-buck fashion. Since the techs are both out today, I get to shut the place off. For some people, shutdown is a hot potato, kitchen duty, walking the diarrhetic dog.... something to avoid. Smile and nod, smile and nod. Makes me wonder who'd be available to cover my ass if my ass needed covering.

Super Awesome.




esch : UNIX, Minnesota
_Lasar : Angry German
solios : Lead Angst
Drusilla : Rhythm Angst

09:32 <@_Lasar> "If your face doesn't bleed, you're not down with PPAC."
09:36 <@solios> dude.
09:36 <@solios> we could be the first international noise band whose members have never actually met each other.
09:36 <@_Lasar> haha.
09:36 <@_Lasar> Except half of mp3.com :/
09:36 <@esch> Talk about making fucking history.

PISSPOWERASSCHRIST : Putting the POWER back in ASS. As opposed to putting the ASS back in POWER. Hardcore arrythmic NOISE.

09:02 <@esch> solios: you should record you dragging the outside of a computer case on concrete, lay some static behind it and label it Pisspowerasschrist and see if it propagates.
09:03 <@_Lasar> esch: It would be better than most of the MTV charts. Though without backing of a record company, no hit.
09:04 <@solios> pisspowerasschrist++
09:06 <@solios> esch: I could do that.
09:08 <@esch> You should. then send me the files, and I'll dub someone vomitting on top of them.
09:08 <@_Lasar> Make a video out of it, too.
09:09 <@solios> :o
09:10 <@_Lasar> And put recordings of people being in shock shouting "oh my gawd" for 15 minutes straight after the second plane on 9/11
09:10 <@_Lasar> That's more annoying than the standard fingernails on chalkboard noise.
09:11 <@solios> nah.
09:11 <@esch> we could _be_ Pisspowerasschrist.
09:11 <@solios> speaking or reading "post-9/11" is more annoying than the fingernails bit. Or getting kicked in the nuts with a bulldozer.
09:11 <@solios> yeah.
09:11 <@solios> that would kick ass.
09:11 <@solios> we'd be like whitehouse, only we'd suck.
09:11 <@solios> it would rule.


So international that the entire band has never met. Ever. Or even so much as talked on the phone. Not even once.

09:58 <@_Lasar> How in hell did you think of the thundercock?
09:58 <@esch> That's the album title.
09:58 <@esch> Well, it is now.
09:58 <@_Lasar> THUNDERCOCKS ARE GO!
09:59 <@solios> THUNDERCOCK
10:00 <@_Lasar> That's what it is.
10:01 <@_Lasar> So when we're playing live, will there be a live webcast for my angry german vocals?
10:01 <@esch> There will have to be.
10:01 <@solios> heh.
10:01 <@_Lasar> Better yet, "live" will mean all of us sitting at home on our asses.
10:01 <@esch> If we were ever to meet, PPAC would implode.
10:01 <@solios> esch would have to play unix by modem.
10:01 <@_Lasar> And there will be video screens for everybody.
10:02 <@_Lasar> Like kraftwerk, only different.
10:02 <@solios> like kraftwerk, only bad.
10:02 <@solios> :D
10:02 <@_Lasar> Yes.
10:03 <@esch> Like kraftwerk, only _pissing_.
10:03 <@_Lasar> There will be no crowd either. The video screens will be filmed by a camera standing in front of the stage.
10:03 <@_Lasar> And Angry!

00:36 in irk

21:30 < esch> Why do girls need to listen to the same music?
21:31 <@ejp> ...
21:31 < solios> it's a good indication of thought process or personality.
21:31 < esch> I disagree completely.
21:31 < solios> for example, "lenny kravitz" rings up as "shallow pothead" in my book.
21:31 <@ejp> it's also hard to stand a girl when she's always blaring pop shit or something.
21:31 < solios> yeah.
21:32 < solios> totally.
21:32 < solios> but if it's obscure shit nobody ever heard of- which is all I listen to- then it's grounds for a conversation.
21:32 < esch> I don't think Cinnamon and I have one common musical interest, but we get along swimmingly.
21:32 * Drusilla cranks up the britney spears
21:32 < esch> Oh, I get it.
21:32 * solios flogs Drusilla with Belinda Carlsisle
21:32 <@ejp> esch: didn't she, uh, leave you?
21:32 < esch> It's easier to limit yourself to the seven people that listen to Pisspowerasschrist, so that you don't have to bother with being rejected.
21:33 < esch> ejp: No. I left her.
21:33 < esch> And FYI, I spent most of tonight with her.
21:33 <@ejp> o_O
21:33 < solios> !!!
21:33 <@ejp> solios: esch's meatmeats are broken.
21:33 < Drusilla> ...solios, you okay?
21:33 < solios> ejp: esch rocks.




Ligur was offline from somewhere around early yesterday evening until sometime this evening. Around four this afternoon the power grid in Oakland blew up, and CMU, CMNH, and Pitt campus were out for roughly an hour. Juice came back, DNS and DHCP didn't. There's something to be said for running a TCPdump and seeing nothing but division hardware on the map, on a network of a couple of hundred machines.

I'll be spending Friday tweaking shell scripts, fixing work machines, possibly blogging what happened during the service outage, and stuff like that. Had a great dinner tonight with Bodine- something to do while we were sitting out the outage, pseudo-celebration of my bank account being active.

Watched Boondock Saints last night, Borne Identity tonight. Still have an extra thirteen hours on my hands this week. Closer to nine if you subtract walks.

Heard from Mr. R. last night- he contacted me through IRC, prompted by mercury being out. We've chatted here and there over the past couple of years, but never anything to this extent. Funny how you can really miss hanging out with somebody you knew for most of a summer seven years past and haven't seen since.

So yeah. On the heels of Project Halcyon development and a walkabout in Allegheny Center last night.

Listening to a lot of Clock DVA. Situps and crunches last night. Spread out a bit, several reps. More than twice what I did previously. No ouchie.

Started character design and production design for Project Halcyon. It still needs a name- oddly enough, all of the ones I've domain checked so far are open.

That's most of it.

Probably need to catch up on email tomorrow as well.