1 am:

I have had a number of people tell me that they don't "get" this website. Aside from that, I have also had a number of accusations that I have lost my mind. Neither of those is particularly promising.

This site was supposed to be a bit eclectic and benefit from being incongruous. While the eclectic nature of this is arguable, I would imagine that most would agree on its incongruous nature. And, why not have something that doesn't fit together? Most of our lives are as such. We run about trying to cover up little actions from certain people, while making them seem prominent to others. Life seems to be some hideously orchestrated balancing act. It is best to seem average, to not do anything to draw attention to oneself, but with that lost, there really is not much more to lose.

So, relish that there is nothing to get. There is no point, to this web site, and quite possibly to anything. Enjoy the poetry, the pornography, the music and (see, Collin no Harvard comma) whatever else happens to show up here. Life should be about the creation of new, hopefully somewhat beautiful, or at the least interesting things. By its relatively novel nature I would hope this site would be one of them, or at least approaching such.

Now I have to go to bed. Fourier beckons across eight (well maybe ten) hours. Its heinous siren's song seems somewhat unavoidable. Enough alliteration for tonight.


Christ climbed down 
from His bare Tree
this year
and ran away to where
there were no rootless Christmas trees
hung with candycanes and breakable stars
Christ climbed down
from His bare Tree
this year
and ran away to where
there were no gilded Christmas trees
and no tinsel Christmas trees
and no tinfoil Christmas trees
and no pink plastic Christmas trees
and no gold Christmas trees
and no black Christmas trees
and no powderblue Christmas trees
hung with electric candles
and encircled by tin electric trains
and clever cornball relatives
Christ climbed down 
from His bare Tree
this year 
and ran away to where 
no intrepid Bible salesmen
covered the territory 
in two-tone cadillacs
and where no Sears Roebuck creches
complete with plastic babe in manger
arrived by parcel post 
the babe by special delivery
and where no televised Wise Men
praised the Lord Calvert Whiskey
Christ climbed down 
from His bare Tree
this year
and ran away to where 
no fat handshaking stranger
in a red flannel suit
and a fake white beard
went around passing himself off
as some sort of North Pole saint
crossing the desert to Bethlehem
in a Volkswagen sled
drawn by rollicking Adirondack reindeer
and German names
and bearing sacks of Humble Gifts
from Saks Fifth Avenue
for everybody's imagined Christ child
Christ climbed down 
from His bare Tree
this year
and ran away to where 
no Bing Crosby carollers
groaned of a tight Christmas
and where no Radio City angels
iceskated wingless
thru a winter wonderland
into a jinglebell heaven
daily at 8:30
with Midnight Mass matinees
Christ climbed down 
from His bare Tree
this year
and softly stole away into
some anonymous Mary's womb again
where in the darkest night
of everybody's anonymous soul
He awaits again
an unimaginable
and impossibly
Immaculate Reconception
the very craziest of 
Second Comings

-Lawrence Ferlighetti

The Sky is Falling:


This happens to me a lot, but I just realized I may have screwed myself very well. I took on a project to apply Fourier analysis to go tesuji. Now, two days before the project is due, I'm starting to realize that I want to do things with Fourier's work that were not intended, and may well not be possible.

Stupidity is a wondrous thing. Even after you realize you're screwed, there still isn't a whole hell of a lot that you can do. So, I'm left desperately thinking of things I might have missed. The tesuji are periodic, that much is good, but the rest is bad.

To start of the patterns are three dimensional. That wouldn't be so large a problem in itself, and all, Fourier's results do apply to spaces in L of N, or n dimensions.

Unfortunately, I'm starting with a set of points, not equations. We did not learn how to deal with that in class, but I have a feeling, call it a hope, that digital signal processing does what I need it to.

I have yet another problem, I ordered some books that I need for this last Thursday. They still aren't here. If they don't get here Friday, that particular hope dies, and I am left with online resources. In retrospect, next day air might have been a good idea.

White...Black (you should see my desktop):


The Dirac delta function is defined as:
(i) 1 if t=0, 0 otherwise.
(ii) having an integral over the real line equal to 1.

Think about it a bit, it starts to hurt your mind after a while...


"Hitler is with Emily Bronte."

-Allen Ginsberg

I take that to mean that they are both in heaven, or something along those lines. I tend to hope that god isn't so cruel as to hold a few mistakes (the killing of 10 million plus people) against someone for all eternity. Eternal damnation sounds like a fairly miserable sort of thing, and doesn't fit very well with the supposition that god is love Of course, much of the old testament (and a bit of the new) doesn't work too well with that supposition either.


Chess has an average branching factor, or number of possible moves at a given time in the game, of about 35 , while go has a branching factor of about 360 . Assuming that typical games of chess and go have 50 and 200 moves respectively, these figures put the estimated number of possible games of chess and go at about 2^512 and 2^1698 respectively. To contrast, the number of atoms in the universe has been estimated at 2^270.

This is a pretty good booklet on how to play go.

Stupid Proverbs...

The semeai where only one player has an eye is a fight over nothing.
There are times when even a fight over nothing means something.
If there is a ko inside a semeai, capture it on the final play.
Learn the eye-stealing tesuji.
At the head of two stones in a row, play hane.
At the head of three stones in a row, play hane.
Beware of the clumsy double contact.


Stupid Bimbo:

Email My Heart

E-mail my heart
and say our love will never die (and I)
I know you're out there
and I know that you still care (I know you care)
e-mail me back and say our love will stay alive
Forever...e-mail my heart

-Britney Spears (but you knew that)

What a brainless bimbo. I really dislike her. The worst part is that she (or her clones) is so damn attractive. How can someone so stupid be so attractive? I feel somewhat better in that if I ever had the misfortune of talking to her, that air of sexual attraction would no doubt quickly evaporate in the presence of quite dismal stupidity.


If you have looked at this, and you haven't looked at the pornography, then you are missing out. Yes, the cgi is slow, but it is running on an improperly configured 486, so what is to be expected? Go look at it here.

And look at nonplatonic too, it's depressing enough looking at the access log, it's worse when my ip is the only one that I see.


"Edward Nygma was a computer and electronics genius who was fascinated with puzzles and riddles since childhood. Extremely intelligent and a bit odd., he would cheat at school and feel superior to his classmates. Nygma's obsession and love for committing crimes lead him to don the guise of "The Riddler." Edward's transformation allows him to lose all sense of reality. He becomes completely wrapped up in the evil and criminal behavior which is warping his mind. He needs to be the Riddler to truly express the real Edward Nygma, in turn completely separating himself from any normalcy he once had. The Riddler uses a vast array of computer and electronic gizmos in his arsenal, but is best known for the lethal use of his "?" cane. It is his trademark. When his plans are ultimately foiled by Batman, The Riddler's hatred turns to an obsession to outwit and ultimately destroy Batman. His hatred is fueled by the surprising intellect Batman posses, which leads to his solving of Edward's riddles. His twisted mind is only concerned with creating the ultimate riddle related crime, which Batman can never solve. "


To Collin's Delight:


You've asked me what the lobster is weaving there with his golden feet?
I reply, the ocean knows this.
You say, what is the ascidia waiting for in its transparent bell? What is it waiting for?
I tell you it is waiting for time, like you.
You ask me whom the Macrocystis alga hugs in its arms?
Study, study it, at a certain hour, in a certain sea I know.
You question me about the wicked tusk of the narwhal, and I reply by describing
how the sea unicorn with the harpoon in it dies.
You enquire about the kingfisher's feathers,
which tremble in the pure springs of the southern tides?
Or you've found in the cards a new question touching on the crystal architecture
of the sea anemone, and you'll deal that to me now?
You want to understand the electric nature of the ocean spines?
The armored stalactite that breaks as it walks?
The hook of the angler fish, the music stretched out
in the deep places like a thread in the water?

I want to tell you the ocean knows this, that life in its jewel boxes
is endless as the sand, impossible to count, pure,
and among the blood-colored grapes time has made the petal
hard and shiny, made the jellyfish full of light
and untied its known, letting its musical threads fall
from a horn of plenty made of infinite mother-of-pearl.

I am nothing but the empty net which has gone on ahead
of human eyes, dead in those darknesses,
of fingers accustomed to the triangle, longitudes
on the timid globe of an orange.

I walked around as you do, investigating
the endless star,
and in my net, during the night, I woke up naked,
the only thing caught, a fish trapped inside the wind.

-Pablo Neruda

Pseudo Porn:

More Yeats:

I really dislike this poem (the second coming is a lot better), but Collin wanted it up. Then again, Collin also argued that the second coming has sexual implications, something I don't think Yeat's was aware of, or intended.

The Collar Bone of a Hare

Would I could cast a sail on the water
Where many a king has gone
And many a king's daughter,
And alight at the comely trees and the lawn,
The playing upon pipes and the dancing,
And learn that the best thing is
To change my loves while dancing
And pay but a kiss for a kiss.

I would find by the edge of that water
The collar-bone of a hare
Worn thin by the lapping of water,
And pierce it through with a gimlet, and stare
At the bitter old world where they marry in churches,
And laugh over the untroubled water
At all who marry in churches,
Through the thin white bone of a hare.

-William Butler Yeats



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