Time Heals All Wounds.. And Then Kills the Patient
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Morning
Morning
Fri Nov 14 11:15:49 2003
Pianos made of Cheese
Topics:

Oddly, I don't remember much of yesterday. It might be because I had rather vivid dreams... My group at CMU was going to either New York or California (I think), and we were running around the offices grabbing all the things we thought we'd need.. except somehow, by the stuff we had, we actually all lived in our offices. We were then at an airport, bored, and waiting, and I was avoiding X's gaze.. and then we were on the airplane.. it was a small plane, with no fixed seats, and people were allowed to change seats anytime they wanted.. and no non-auton people were there. It was taking an oddly long time to take off, and so I looked out the windows, and found that we were, for some odd reason, taxiing (when an airplane drives around before taking off) all over Brecksville, for some odd reason.. well, the 'dark' version of brecksville -- it was definitely the Brecksville from my 'other side' dreams and not the actual one. I heard some people saying that we might've been there to pick someone up before we took off. And then X started talking to me..

I woke up, and found Wally circling, and then sitting on my laptop keyboard, sending gibberish IM's to about 5 people, and inserting a lot of fur that I'll slowly be digging out later. I don't remember falling asleep, but I need to remember to close my screen to at least 45 degrees so Wally can't get in there before I nod off, or at least switch to another workspace where my IM client isn't there for him to mess with.

Goodbye to mp3.com. Also, looks like the Chinese don't want to be outdone by the most recent wacko serial killer here.. I just hope we don't start a big competition on that front :) People like that (I'm being a bit naughty here) belong in the military :) Looks like Pakistan might actually have a fashion police. Heh

Here is a scientific advance that actually could rock the world. If it's transferrable to humans, it suggests there's actually a cure to type-1 diabetes, and even better, it's not that expensive or engineered. An end to this condition would really change things.. On sciency notes, Kasparov is again frustrated by computer challengers -- he lost game 2, and so he'll need to win the next two to get a victory. It is pretty cool that he's being a good sport about it and still playing against computers after the Big Blue matches a few years ago. I just briefly reread some of the commentary on one of the games, and am remembering covering what Deep Blue was doing, to a limited extent, in one of my classes -- and it got me to thinking... at some level, pruning (cutting off entire categories of possibilities for consideration, Deep Blue's strength) and choosing categories for exploration (a typically human strength) are the same thing... but when there are incredibly large numbers of possible moves in a game (e.g. real life), there are some big mathematical and enumerative questions that can be asked, especially when minor variations are permitted on each. They still are on a spectrum, but a rough one.

Covers of "Goonies", books of mormon, and the joys of usenet moderation..

"You're the most human person I know" "Umm.. thanks..?"

It's a bit late to be introducing new characters, when the credits are being prepped to travel across the screen... There's not gonna be a new movie, so all the promises of newness are there for continuity. Soon, we'll all be marching across the stage, with two gestures, one of us as characters, and one of us as people. A bow, a final wave to the crowd, and a goodbye. They may watch this on videocasettes, so it will never end in one sense.. but the props have been sold, and so it never shall be, again. The band, who started this journey, long ago, picks up its instruments, and plays the music.. a bridge, one end on this rocky shore, the other end missing, and what was once water, now a chasm over *elsewhere*.. the cast, some still dressed as their characters, some not, is chatting, and one by one walking onto the bridge, carrying their things, props and such. One by one, their motions not even pretending that this world matters, not even pretending that it's a real cliff, a real fall, they walk over the edge, into the light beneath. The landscape fades into a fuzzy white, the unneeded details disappear as people depart this fading realm. "What about you, man? You coming?" "I'm gonna sit here for awhile".. A song from this world escapes lips, as the fuzzy whiteness swallows the landscape, leaving just the bridge, the gap, and the figure on the side of the bridge.. Sitting down, singing alone.