Oh, I got hot sause all over my bazito!

You know what this is? It's a brain sucker. You know what it's doing? Filing its tax return

If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent apple pie

The Adventures of Little Ed Brave

Tell airport security your name is McCannister because you can hide anything in a cannister.

You know what? Nobody notices when this changes anyway.

There are 10 types of people in the world: Those who understand binary, and STFU

What happens in a black hole stays in a black hole

The black hole draws you inexorably inward. Time slows. You are likely to be eaten by a grue.

I'd diddle little umdidlie... if she weren't my half-sister.

Abortion prevents pedophilia. In more ways than one!
Get Firefox!
I wrote a haiku

which I was about to share,

but then I thought, "screw it."
Level 1

Notice to all users of the Holodeck:

There are safety protocols in place that cannot be deactivated without the approval of two commanding officers or the captain to protect users of the Holodeck from potential harm. However, every time the Holodeck is ever used in a nontrivial manner, no matter what the safety protocols say, the Holodeck turns into a deathtrap.

Unless you believe yourself to be adept at constructing a forcefield from your communicator and 19th century Earth tools, or you're at the very least not wearing a red shirt, you are strongly advised not to attempt to use the Holodeck until a designer comes up with a safety protocol that doesn't kill you whenever somebody looks at it funny. Even when you're not on the holodeck. Or in the same quadrant. Or time period.

In fact, if you are wearing a red shirt, Starfleet may not be the job for you


Category: School

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Got that monkey

Permalink 05/08/08 at 03:07:21 pm, by Ed, 176 words   English (US)
Categories: School, Programming

I seriously feel so good right now. I just submitted my final projects for my two CS classes at once, and I couldn't care less what happens after this point. I'm frickin' done with them!

Working in groups shouldn't be this hard! In a real setting (i.e. the industry), it's not! You have somebody who tells you what to do, and they would be called your boss. In our projects, we were an egoless organization of programmers who kept interfering with each other, on purpose or not, which meant that little got done at some points. And we had to define our own boundaries, rather than have a team leader who isn't involved in the project do that for us.

Anyway, it's done, and the only thing left for me to do is to paint my flat in my stagecraft class and take a final a week from tomorrow. I am so done with this. I'm out of here.

Now I just gotta figure out where I'm into.

Incidentally, this is how I learn piano:

When all you have is a nail...

Permalink 05/06/08 at 07:21:34 am, by Ed, 532 words   English (US)
Categories: School, Programming

You know the old adage "When all you have is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail". Well, I'm in my stagecraft class, and we regularly have to reverse that. That is, "When all you have is a nail, every tool looks like a hammer." Which I'm sure many of us have experienced in the past, driving in a nail with the but of a screwdriver, the battery of a cordless drill, a caster, a different piece of wood, a belt sander, a router, the butt of your hand, a jigsaw, or in the rare cases when you're feeling industrious, a hammer.

Honestly, the hammer is just about the simplest tool in any shop, and we rarely use them. We just take what we have and use that instead. Why don't they just put a ball peen on every power tool they make? It'd save us the trouble of getting up and actually fetching a hammer to drive the nail in all the way so that the jigsaw doesn't jump when it hits it, or the sand belt doesn't break when it files down the nail head into nothing, or god knows what would happen when the router comes near it.

But that's not the only place I've seen it. I've seen it in programming, having been guilty of doing it myself some times as well. Most recently, for example, I have a very simple "node" object which in ones mind one already knows what it is. It's a sub-object of a parent object that needs several objects arranged in a certain way. Nodes are used everywhere in programming. In this case, in a self-balancing binary search tree I've used for a project in a class. This node has grown to contain:

  • a left and right child node (indisposable in a binary tree)
  • a parent node (also very useful)
  • a value (what's the point of having a node without data?)
  • a key (okay, self-balancing trees need something to sort by)
  • a left and right child height (I guess it's okay to cache the height so as to not recalculate it every time)
  • an article count (okay, that makes s--What!?)
  • the current article (Wait up! I'm still stuck on the last one!)
  • the IDF (Random unexplained acronyms abound!
  • and the phrase length (I give up)

It should have been so simple! It should have gone no further than the key! Maybe have a child height, but no more! Every time we needed the program to do something else with the data, I stuck it into the node as a new data value. The IDF isn't even used in the first half. In fact, it isn't even used in relation to the self balancing tree! I reuse the nodes to get away from having to create a new object to create a list of items linked by parent and child. I'm essentially using a left-right node as a left-only node and foregoing all operations supplied by the tree entirely.

Like I said, when all I have to do is sort, every tool looks like a self-balancing tree node. Yeah, that's right! I pulled it all back together! Didn't see that coming did you?

Quid quid latine dictum sit, altum videtur

Permalink 04/30/08 at 02:22:55 pm, by Ed, 137 words   English (US)
Categories: School

An email recently received by at least 80 people:

Dear Graduate,

Congratulations! You are currently meeting the GPA criteria for Latin
Honors. Our records indicate that you are not attending the
Commencement Ceremony on May 17, 2008. The Office of Financial Aid and
Registrar invites you to pick up a Latin Honor Medallion at the Student
Assistance Center (23 Solon Campus Center) beginning May 1, 2008.
Please be sure to have a picture ID.

Please remember that the honors listed in the Commencement Program are
based on your current, overall U of M GPA. Also, honors criteria
change each academic year and your honors can change based on your final
term GPA. Any honors earned will be noted on both your diploma and
your final transcript.

Student Assistance Center
UMD Office of Financial Aid & Registrar
23 Solon Campus Center
1117 University Drive
Duluth, MN 55812

Pain in the butt

Permalink 04/24/08 at 06:52:41 am, by Ed, 174 words   English (US)
Categories: School, Work

So I was in the scene shop a couple days ago, moving rocks. Big, boulder-y rocks. I bent to pick one up, and my back went out. I couldn't stand up again from the pain. I had to walk around bent at a 90-degree angle if at all. Mostly I had to move on all fours or lay on my back.

After a few minutes, I was able to eventually stand up and get down to ground level (one thing I didn't mention, which I suppose I probably should, is that I was in the prop area, and I was moving Styrofoam rocks).

It's gotten better since then, but it's definitely still noticeable. The fun thing was that for the rest of the day, I didn't have to do much work in the scene shop though. I think I've got an out next time I don't want to do any manual labor. 'Cuz nobody checked or anything, they just had me sit down and gave me a couple advil and left me to be. :)

Vocal Jazz neural takeover

Permalink 04/07/08 at 06:52:19 am, by Ed, 371 words   English (US)
Categories: School, Work, Dreams of a phenytoin addict

My dreams as of the last two nights have been solely centered around Vocal Jazz. Perhaps because I have been seeing the Vocal Jazz Cabaret show for the past six nights, or perhaps it is a sign of horrible things to come.

Two nights ago was something about cleaning out John Miller's friend's summer house's attic, and the kids in vocal jazz were there to help, and there were watches... I don't know. It was strange.

But last night, I dreamed of the terrible reality of transporting vocal jazz equipment on an open-bed truck. I was not involved in this. I was in the car with Joe, driving past a park on the left, and I saw a microphone stand in the middle of the road.
"Turn around!" I said. "That's a vocal jazz stand. I might as well pick it up" So he did turn around, and I saw the true horror. There were mic cables strewn everywhere in the grass! Even the snake! The poor snake had somehow fallen from its box and gotten tangled up in a mess. I was ready to call the American Society for the prevention of cruelty to sound equipment. But oh, the horrors continue. The sound board itself! Not even in its protective case, just sitting there! It was just dumped on the corner like a baby with no diaper! And it was raining! I was about to hurl. I asked Joe for the phone, and immediately dialed TTG (which for some reason, Joe put in his phone as TTG Thielen-Gaffey). Unfortunately, her three-year-old daughter picked up, and said "Hewwo?"
"Is Tina there? Hello? Is this Tina?"
"My face is wed."
"That's nice, can I talk to Tina?"
At this point, somebody named Sue got on the phone.
"Who is this"
"This is... who is this? I need to talk to Tina." I don't have a clue why I kept calling her Tina. That's just strange. Everybody calls her TTG.
"This is Sue. What do you need?"

At this point, I woke up.

And when I went to the shop today to work, everybody ended up singing all kinds of songs from the Cabaret show. And I thought I was done with it!

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