I muut say, whatever the human body releases under such physical exerciser certainly helps one string thoughts together again. All but staggering in the process, among other things, one of things I got done, was moving my desktop from the living room, into my room here. I’ve placed it near to the air vent, which seems to decrease the running temps a bit. Don’t want to think what winter will loo like. I also forgot just how freaking heavy an old 19″ CRT monitor weighs, especially when you’re already exhausted. My rooms still a wreck but I’m to tired to car at this point.

The one good ting, I’ve slept ’til almost 0300, that’s nearly two hours more than when I’ve been getting up lately… haven’t been able to sleep worth a slug. Going nuts….

That reminds me, blasted PC is now right next to the router: but Windows now refuses to work with the Ethernet NIC, so I’m still stuck using the wireless lol. The Linux install will work with either… but hey, we’re talking about 60% and regularly dropping out, up to 100% signal, now that the distance is about 1 foot.

Maybe I can play some Quake or sth this morning, that ought to hold my attention for an hour or two…. I hope.

Freaking tired, head spinning

My minds self checks are starting to question my remaining sanity, I’m not sure how to take that. As positive, that my head has self checks for it, or as a negative that I’m questioning my sanity :-S. What is sanity anyway, but a reality measure, of how far we’ve been pushed?

The last few weeks, it’s like being inside of an egg beater, or being an egg thrown back and forth between ping-pong rackets, because I won’t break apart. I’ve been trying to keep a log of things, today I can add bits of dizzy to it, fuck, remind me not to look out windows while cleaning them.

I’m going out of my skull. With the amount I’m sleeping, I’m spending more time thinking, hell it’s almost as much as I used to spend training. What was it my time added up to back then, about 40-45 hours a week? That’s a lot of stuffing to contain. Am I even making sense?

Driving felt like a piece of my brain missing, still the only higher order thoughts it demands is keeping things on the pavement and in the right lane. So many years in ‘mech and air sims has most of it down to a level of breathing, that’s how hard driving is, normally.

Heads going ape, I’m not stable. planning to rip things apart, down to rearranging furnature ffs. My intentions to work myself until i finally pass out.

In reply to CO Rouges comments about the NTF site move

Another major step for improving the service for our community in the long run, major!

So far, the NTF has passed several milestones in establishing a financially safe, steady, well organized and friendly community for both members and non-members. Ahead, I see several other milestones closing in, as the NTF soon pass its first six months.

source

My response would be (the thread is locked to admins attr), good: now all you have to do is teach your men  how to police your servers with that lovely server admin policy ;).

and I thought [SAS] servers could be a real zoo sometimes, lol.

Emergency Action Plan 2010 – FRAGO No.0

This being an update to a train of thought prepared earlier in the year, itself being intended for a DEFCON 0 ex-filtration from Georgia, that being a very short way from reaching DEFCON 1, which is calling it quits — my present family affairs being DEFCON 2, and not far from 1 if you allow decimal points.

  1. Prep phase (1-3 days):
    1. Maximize water intake over prep. phase.
    2. Complete logistics:
      1. Sort fallback points.
      2. Print maps.
      3. Note addresses.
      4. Make ready affairs at end point / final destination.
    3. Review packing list for any last minute “Oh crap, I forgot sth” evasions.
  2. D-phase (0-1 days):
    1. Up-hike water intake for the pre-trip cycle.
    2. Put last minute affairs in order.
    3. Pack essential kit:
      • [withheld in case of information leak: must prevent seizing of my few resources]
    4. Fill canteen for march.
    5. Load up on water, maximum traveling load.
  3. Execute (4-7 days)
    1. Arrive at final destination by foot.
    2. Rehydrate on site.
    3. Finally eat sth.
    4. Borrow phone.
    5. Settle in and make ready for post-op (e.g. what is to follow).

The only thing I’ll say of my EAP, for if things get any worse in this rotten hole, is it is a *very* long walk. Originally the EAP called for a launch within 24-hours, but logically a greater prep time is ideal, in terms of surviving things. Or as I said, I’m not the kind of person to die in the desert because he made a wrong turn.

If family matters finally come down to it, I will *_/not/_* be restrained any further… and I will go by Patrick Henry’s axiom to the last breath if need be. Failure, is not an option in so far as my right to live is concerned.

Another chart for practical use:

         DEFCONs adapted to Family life here:

                5.) Life is at peace... no worries.
                4.) Stand to, people are making ready for war.
                3.) Active conflicts are in progress.
                2.) Threat level maximum / state of war exists, be ready to go nuclear.
                1.) Excommunication / severing of all ties -- officially at (all out) war.
                0.) Forced march and permanent Exfiltration from present residence.

Being a programmer, of course when I am involved, there is always a “Zero” at one end of a list… lol.

I wonder what you get when you combine a pseudo logarithmic stress graph with routine spurts of highly exponentiation “Stress jacking”, and computation it across a life time…

Of software and family

Recently, I have been looking into Ruby on Rails, while I’m more then familiar with programming in Ruby, I’ve never really had much opportunity to play with RoR. Then again, the amount of time I’ve had to spend around Python for one reason or another, I haven’t been using Ruby all that much in the past few years. Still, about all I need is API docs, and a language reference here and there for things I rarely need (e.g. the interpreters environment variables). I’ve also been parsing a copy of Effective C++ from the library, in the odd chance that I might learn something ‘new’. I know enough about programming to be weary of the quad-barreled super shotgun constantly pointing at ones feet, but don’t always physically have the time to deal with C++s minute details. It’s the price of living here, productive use of time = death star sized more valuable then over thinking. Then again, most people would say that I over think >-<.

I’ve been thinking a bit about my note storage problem, as I don’t use my journal for ‘every’ train of thought, although this months number of entries might suggest otherwise lol. Working on solving that problem of notes management, might be one way to pass some time, and try and reclaim some lost stack space, the question is whether or not I can actually work on something that complex right now…

For days I’ve been feeling in knots, living here is like having your head banged into a wall. Literally it feels like a cross between wanting to puke your guts out, and having your insides rung out like a wet towel; not comfortable! Dissatisfied with my war for freedom, my mother seeks to enlist help in constraining me, from even marching to the library—while simultaneously being the idiomatic stick in the mud, about my interest in getting a license and a separate job.

In short, she’s trying to type cast me from an animal in a cage, to an animal chained inside a cage.

Never in my life, have I ever been afforded peace… it’s been denied me, since birth. It’s rare here, that I’m even treated like a human being deserving of life; whether or not I deserve to live, I’m the last person who can answer that question—but I am a human being. Is it such a horrible thing, to ask that life have some reason to get out of bed in the morning, some reason to draw breath? Arguably I would’ve been better off eliminating myself in the early 2000s, but *every* concept of improving the quality of existence, has generally been met with the up most hostile force, that my family can attempt to bring to bear.

What the fuck kind of family is this? I know I’ve considered it “Non functional”, as a private notational level below dysfunctional, but somethings just make me fucking sick to my stomach. I can’t take much more of this. DEFCON 0, begins to look all the more sharply on the horizon. I will not be caged! I’ve passed up opportunities in order to do whats right by family, but I will not be locked away…

Death or liberty, there is no third notion – and like John McClane, I die hard.

A fitting quote

In my reading of King Lear last week, I came across an segment of the text, that rather sums up an expression of how my mother often regards her children:

“But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter; or rather a disease that’s in my flesh, which I must needs call mine.

— King Lear, Act II Scene IV, Shakespeare’s King Lear.

Only substitute son with daughter, in this families case. I think she rather missed the “Like mother, like daughter” implications of that statement, even though ma generally agreed with it. (That’s a matter of internal history, predating me by at least 30 years.)

The cost of having green blooded

My mother asked if I had any preference on dinner, and I said I didn’t care; she then had to ask why I often reply thus. I explained because the minor details of it, rarely matter, when prompted as to why 8=), I literally said:

Because they can often be expressed using the mathematical operator, approximately equal to ()

To which she became suitably annoyed, walking off and stating that she hopes that I never have her diabetic problem of not being able to eat whatever she wants.

For which my mind sees the following: that what one can have may be a distinctly separate thing from what one may want, and although a want may be a can, a can does not necessary have to be a want. And unfortunately if you are diabetic, that is more likely to be the case than not, in so far as diet is concerned… it’s not my fault :-S. Like wise, I can’t help if she is to preoccupied to handle anything rationally… or that my mind is heavily trained to carry a logical train of thought for long periods of time. (Hint: don’t blame someone in hack mode, if they take things scientifically instead of like a crazy person!)

Oh, what trouble I get for not being born on the planet Vulcan—this entries title being a reference, that I prefer logic and reasoning over the inverse. Where as the others in my family, generally fall into the category of: seize on sth detail, raise your dander over it, and skip analyzing whatever you just judged until after Judgment Day. It’s like they delay evaluation until after they’ve got pissed, or a ctor exception is raised before even evaluating an expression…

-> being a mega geek == a curse; // anyone know a private island for geeks only?

Defining Georgia Drivers: PEBSWAC

For “Problem Exists Between Steering Wheel And Chair”, a variant on the popular tech support term. Just returned from HRPs errands, well reminded that Georgia has plenty ID10T errors on the road.

Coming up to a light in a neighboring town, I was closing the gap (~1/3m) between our stack and the cars just accelerating as the light turned from red to green—when some clown in a bronze Saturn zipped through the no-travel area between the lanes, passed at least one or two other cars (at the minimal) behind us, evaded the turn lane, and tried to cut me off right in traffic with waaay less than car length of space for him to move into. He ended up with his tail practically sticking into the left lane and no where to go, and he had to wait again because the light turned red by the time he got there, hahahahahahahaaaaaa!!!!

He broke at least four or five laws that are on the state books let along proving moronic, all to cut ahead in line, just to have to wait for another light, some how I can take sick pleasure in that knowledge xD. If I had been moving at a typical GA drivers pace, my mothers tempo would be missing its side view mirror but when stopping in traffic, I tend to move a bit more cautiously: just in case the moron behind is paying more attention to her SMSing then break pedal.

For bonus points, less than ten minutes down the road, some moron was trailing so DIA, if I had farted you would have a stain on his windshield. Finally after almost five minutes, he zoomed past just as we hit the no passing zone. Sorry whoever it was but I am not going to drive at 85 mph (~136km/h) in a 45 mph (~72 km/h) zone, it would become one hell of a speeding ticket 8=). Cheers!