actuality.log

I have been trying real hard to get something down here today. I want to say it. But I don’t know what it is that I want to say. I think I get, but I can never be sure. I am a male, and not a very bright one either. I’ve been typing and backspacing so much the key is stuck. So I decided not to talk about things I can never be sure I understand. During this period, I found this woman’s photolog. Apart from being very good, strangely enough, (her take on?) patterns soothe me and make me smile. You have to check it out. It was a little slow when I tried it, but totally worth the wait.

Since I was having so much trouble with things probably beyond my realm of comprehension, I decided to stick with what I think I do know.

As was noticed (rather quickly I might add) and pointed out on quickies, parts of the picture pages were left broken last evening. Firstly, I was shocked that I left it in that state without realizing. I have never done something like this before. I am usually quite thorough, at least when it comes to things like this. Apparently, yesterday was not the greatest of days to attempt to forge ahead with the move.

What move?
The move out of the uni servers to the wahgnube.org domain. Here are some highlights of what has been/will be going on in the near past/future.

Over the past few weeks, I have been slowly migrating the base template (this ultra hip… not, blue and grey style for the pages) to a set of PHP files for the header/footer/side boxes/navigation menu etc stripping down each page to just the essentials like a title and the content. All the other brouhahah like the overly complicated table system to draw the elements of the interface have been encapsulated into those PHP files.

There are some nagging concerns remaining, like the automation of the picture page. It is currently an absolute pain to update, and as a result doesn’t get updated, as I’ve now started pushing image content onto the weblog. That has to change. I have been trying out gallery and original. For now, both suck. If someone knows a better alternative, I’d like to know. My primary requirement is it should be customizable enough to fit into the site like any other page.

You may have also noticed I am slowly stripping away my name and real life contact information from the pages in the interest of privacy. Many a clueless anonymous email has been answered, and I think I have had enough. It’s kind of weird when you know who I am but I don’t have a clue about you, and yet have to respond appropriately. Plus there are issues relating to separating work and this, which has gone better than I imagined. There will eventually be no obvious way of getting between the two. Which now means I have to find a decent site counter other than the umich cgi I use now, and a new guestbook provider that fits within the framework of the site. The ones provided by my host, 1and1, look cheesy and just plain off. So suggestions for those are open too.

I have new plans for entropy, and have thought of some fixes to aggreg8. Minor fixes and updates to the other pages are also being carried out or have been marked to be carried out. Two sections, the older site news, and my resume section (obviously) have been deprecated. Older site news entries now merge into the weblog archives.

This site will then be its own entity, fully residing under the wahgnube.org domain with no obvious connection to the uni servers, and consequently the real life me. Except of course my obscure point of view, whininess and other general meisms on the weblog and everywhere else.

Change needn’t be bad.

Did I really think you cared to know all of this? Course not. This is my way of talking without saying anything. And now, after ages, I go home early. I get to see Friends. If it’s a repeat I will be mad.

Actually, no, I won’t.

The post monster, the evil twin of the cookie monster ate the post that was here.

Thank you for the comments and emails.

:|

Usually.

I do love mocking things. I am not talking about “point and jeer kicking sand in their faces” mocking. I am not talking Sienfeld style “what’s the deal with mayonnaise” style humour either. I prefer a more darker and drier approach. Sounding perfectly normal and rational, just highlight a blatantly obvious (to me) observation related to how stupid we really are. Something like an understated Simpsons episode without the gore. Usually bordering on cold or hurtful, but never, primarily because it isn’t directed at anything or anyone in particular. Just the generic dummy who fits that description, who everyone shrugs off as the “other guy”.

Therefore, society and me are my favourite targets. My safest targets. I tend to offend no one in particular, and if I do, it’s just me.

Then there are some days when people make it so easy I can’t help it. I know I am being mean, but I can’t stop because they’re sitting ducks holding a gun pointed at themselves AND hypnotising me trying to get me to pull the trigger. And I oblige. But only because they made me.

It’s hilarious. Hilariously rude, but hilarious none the less.

One of the undocumented chores of being a student at a university (who puts up contact information at too many places) is answering emails from clueless blokes. I am, if I do say so myself, very good about it. No canned answers. I do my research, take my time, and answer them aptly and to the best of my abilities. I maintain a kind, understanding and generally helpful air. These people have a whole lot of nonsense to deal with after this. Last thing they need is a rude / hope crushing / generally evil / misinformed email from me. I have never really received a decent thank you note, or seen or heard from these people ever again, but I do it like some karmic duty. It’s not like I ever mailed anybody when I wanted to know something. But then again, I am I. I was “too cool” for that, and “just knew” all that I needed to know.

Anyway, there are a few of those sitting duck cases here as well. And somehow, an impersonal email to someone I probably won’t ever communicate with ever again makes me feel a whole lot less guilty when I rip them to shreds over the smallest of things. A bunch of typos and flawed grammar say. I don’t intend to. Sometimes their demanding tone just puts me off, and I strongly dislike the person. I am in no frame of mind to tone down inherent impulses. Therefore I mock. Mocking plays a huge role in my “dealing with” and “putting things in perspective” abilities.

For whatever reasons (the uni webserver providing it as a free service for one) I have a guestbook for this site. Not that too many real people use it anymore. It now functions more like a spam honeypot. I rarely check it. But for some reason I clicked it today and woah.

Monday, February 02, 2004 — 10:18:46 (EST)
Name: Obfuscatedforhisprivacy SINGH– Email: Obfuscatedforhisprivacy@yahoo.com
(Of course, I said his. Obfuscatedforhisprivacy sounds like a him. Besides, women aren’t stupid.)
Location: jamshedpur, jharkhand india
# i want to know that my admit card has been mistikaly printed as all the suvject in my previous records but i want to give onlymathematic as my subject please make me the corection

Now I have nothing particularly against Singhs, or people from “Jharkand”, or people who don’t know the difference between an academic service office contact addresses and random website guestbooks, or people who can’t spell for nuts, or people who don’t know of the existence of punctuation, or people who don’t believe in capitalization (on top of not knowing the existence of punctuation so that I can at least figure out when a sentence ends and another begins), or have extreme grammar issues, or don’t realize it might be better to insert spaces between words, or lack the time to proofread JUST A LITTLE, or blatantly attempt to not make sense.

I have no idea what this person was trying to say. But it is just all so easy isn’t it?

Like I said, I am not an evil person.

Usually.

(Hmm. In moments of even more weirdness, I have to post pictures that led to this tomorrow. Am I doing this to keep you curious and coming back for more? No such thing. Somehow, I feel I am being kind to low bandwidth people by not piling too many images per post. (Not like it matters, considering the posts pile up for a bit before they leave the front page. But that’s the most legit reason I could come up with. Deal with it.) Moving your mouse over the images should popup a little one liner.)

So here I am, figuring out what it is I am doing at a museum. I mean, I’ve been to many before, but for some reason I have to find purpose, and patterns. So I begin to look around.

Within a bit, I found this:

Apparently, they were smart and got it. All the (female form related?) art in that exhibit mirrored the words used in this description.

Moving along, I found art from the renaissance period. Now admittedly, most of this stuff wasn’t “positive” (in a yay, our world is so peachy way), but it was easily the most realistic in its depiction of things. Obviously, this was with respect to everything, but I am going to stick to the topic of the day. So, through their eyes:

Achievable dimension proportions?

Now I wasn’t kidding when I said they were realistic. I am being mean, but apparently the richest and vainest nobles weren’t the most attractive.

Or spent so much on cosmetics, they couldn’t afford the best painters.

Kidding. What I am getting at is this set called it as they saw it. Not some obscure what they wished it to be.

Now as we start moving towards the Asian section of the exhibit, particularly (Cambodian?) areas influenced by Indian art, things start looking a little different. To put things in perspective, these are like toned down, “realifieder” versions of the Indian art counterparts. (Like the sculptor’s wife hit him on the head with a club until he changed things.)

And for my final exhibit, here is a female form sample from ancient Indian art.

The article below this sculpture was raving about how her proportions are so well defined, right down to the diameter of her ankle and the lengths of her toes. What it didn’t talk about is how much freaking plastic surgery one needs to go through to get to this point.

So there you have it. There were always those that got it, and those that didn’t.

Do you?

Apparently, unrealistic expectations isn’t some new fad plaguing just today’s society.

Of course, there were tons of other such patterns related to kind of materials used, or the level of detail, and other things I’d love to go into. But who really wants to know such things? And this entry just seems incomplete without a plug to this person’s page where she posts snippets related to gender and technology.

For whatever reason, on be good to me day, I signed up for a bunch of trips among other things. Today I went to Toledo, Ohio. Though it is in the next state and all that, it isn’t particularly far away. The plan was to see the Toledo Museum of Art.

Why?
No reason. Just wanted to get out and do something.

Was I the only non art freak there?
Yes.

Was everybody else from areas such as art history specializing in some post renaissance pre <insert any event after any renaissance you want here> period art or some such, people?
Yes, I guess.

Did it bother me?
Course not. Nice to interact with non-geeks once in a while.

Was I able to appreciate the art?
Does it matter?

Moving along, the journal shifts to photoblog mode, because it is just easier that way. I didn’t carry my tripod. Yes, I now own a tripod. Courtesy, be good to me day.

Once we reached there, it was apparent the weather in this part of Ohio isn’t too different from what we’re used to here.

The whole purpose of this exercise.

Imagine lil ol moi in a place like so appreciating the art. Of course, I cheated. I was lying on the ground taking this shot.

Of course, my main observation during this trip will have to wait till tomorrow or whenever. I be lazy now. So that was that. I travelled. I saw. I returned. I interacted with non-geeks.

Odd folk they be.

I know I get very comfortable when I sit in a chair. I slouch, beyond normal amounts. I feel just peachy, but other people seem to find it amusing/alarming. I have been told by parents, friends, professors and tons of others to sit straight, or something similar. Or at least the sermon about how I am hurting my back.

But this was a bit much. Here I am, having gotten our research code to build on a SIXTEEN processor, TWELVE GIGABYTE RAM SGI machine, and was just getting cozier and cozier as I was sliding down to my slouchiest best. Random person who HAPPENS to walk by has to pass on her 2 cents about how amusing I look.

Great.

Of course, I feel like the bravest guy in the world, but you’d realize what a chicken I really am and how irrational my fears are if I went into the details.

Why not let him live in his delusions?

Like I was saying, I’m the bravest guy in the world…

For some reason I’ve been imagining being shown round a gym.

Stick figures own expression.

Today was the first “be good to me” day. It was all about me, and I didn’t let anything or anyone ruin it. I have got to do this more often. I need it.

Probably I went a bit overboard and sane me might regret it tomorrow. Obviously not worrying about that today. And yes, forcing me to laboriously go through the details here is against the spirit of today too.

So here’s the thing. I was (unfortunately?) home early enough to catch the show last night. I say “I was early enough”, but what I probably mean is “I made sure I was early enough”. I could say it was pretty much a complete waste of my time, as she didn’t dump anybody yesterday, but I won’t. Why? Because it’s probably resulted in me trying to open my eyes.

Life is quite harsh, and though I am hoping like crazy reality isn’t how it is portrayed on these shows, I am not quite so sure any more. Things aren’t going entirely according to plan right now, which I know adds to my insecurities, but actually seeing it blatantly on a show like this just brings them out louder and clearer than I am ok with dealing with.

Just what is it I’m talking about? Yesterday was the day “the hunks” entered the scene along side our “average Joes” vying for the fair Larissa’s attention. First, this fished up show is just plain evil:
a) The “average guys” are waay below average in most respects.
b) The “hunks” are beyond extremely hot (and fully waxed). (And this is from a dude who thinks he’s straight.)
The Joes were getting creamed and will be, but will still stay humiliating themselves in order that we be entertained. But that is my beef with the show, not something that affected me personally.

Secondly, the way the woman glowed once they showed up. I mean she was all smiles and didn’t stop ONCE. Even more importantly, (to me, I being a guy), the Joes had to try so freaking hard (lighting a candle using lava from a volcano, say) to get a chance to give her a teeny peck on the cheek (where all she didn’t do was move away). But miraculously the connection with the hunks was so sudden that she was all over them in 30 s of they appearing on the set. Yes, hot tubs included.

Weird coincidence? I think not.

And all of this was just one half of the one-two punch. At one point, one of the people I was watching it with went something like “Oh those chiseled guys are inhuman. blah blah… blah blah.. regular guys like you and me”. Wooooooooooah. You AND ME? Back up the truck a bit buddy. Beep Beep Beep. I am not short and potbellied and bald for crying out loud. THAT WAS IT.

Yes, what I am trying to say is people are usually stupider than I assume, and tend to give more importance to certain aspects of people than those aspects deserve.

No, that’s not it. What I am trying to say is I probably should consider “working on the body” too.

’nuff said.

Parenting style has a great impact on what kinds of people their children grow up to be, and how they live their lives. And by great impact, I obviously mean absolutely no effect whatsoever. I just spent like an hour on the phone with my parents, and the conversation obviously deviated at points into V’s exploits.

It’s hilarious to think we’re from the same parents, same home, same society, similar/same schools, and same college. Some, probably trivial, facts about his lifestyle:

  – A cell phone and his own land line, at least one off the hook, all the time. Both if the person on the other end of one is dumb.
  – 30-50 bucks a day OVER a monthly allowance of 1000 bucks for “stuff”? Don’t ask. I don’t even want to know.
  – Driving around, I bet licenseless, in fancy cars.^*
  – Has extreme interest in, knowledge of facts in things related to and participatory tendencies toward sport.
  – A billion friends and an insane social life involving never being at home.
  – Extremely easily swayed by trends and what people around him do.
  – Absolutely NO sorts of conversations with anybody at home, besides the necessities, like “give me more money”. Which involves humourous events like mom having to call him on his phone from another room to hear him.
  – A connoisseur of fine (and not so fine) Tamil cinema and resulting music.

I am cracking up. I will stop there.

I don’t think I am actually going to explicitly negate EACH AND EVERY ONE of those lines and call it my “lifestyle”. Not that I am embarrassed in anyway, but I bet you can do that in your head and save me the trouble. I plan to observe this sometime as an outisider, without “cramping his style”. Not to feel I’ve achieved anything vicariously, just because I am curious as to… where the curves start diverging.

(^* Reminds me, men don’t have the luxury of feminine wiles to get away with this sort of thing. Like, *cough* some other people I know. Bet you assumed I forgot that, didn’t you?)

Watching OTHER people enjoy the benefits of blazingly fast connections at home just sucks. I hope they all die and rot in hell? No, nothing that extreme. Anyway, I am one of the calmest and rationalest people I know. I rarely get too excited and/or irritated. But today’s events totally warranted a blow up, and I did. It all started off with… a sort of pseudo analogy might do better.

Dad: Son, I think you’re old enough and it’s time we have this talk. We are going to talk about doing things safely.
Son: But DAAAD, stop embarrassing me. I know things, you know. My genius friends and I figured it all out. And we’re obviously more smarter than you, so I won’t mess up.
Dad: But son, all I wanted to talk about was being safe, about protection.
Son: Quiet down old man. I know how to be safe. I am safe right now, and nothing’s gone wrong. I am quite sure I can handle myself.
Dad: But, ok, good. Nice to know you’re the responsible sorts. And glad we had this talk.

3 months later, the son dies of an STD?… No! Far worse. 3 months later the dad gets a lawsuit filed against him by the RIAA because his son downloaded things he shouldn’t have, was stupid enough to get caught, and the internet connection was under the parent’s name.

This is the sort of nonsense that I hope won’t happen at home. I obviously don’t know what is going on, or if any of it might not be legal, but I DON’T HAVE A COMPUTER AND YET THE MODEM ACTIVITY IS OFF THE CHARTS. I tried to be concerned for these jokers, but not like I would really give a damn IF they did anything stupid and got caught or got sued to oblivion. But I do, because I handle all the bills. Everything is in my name. One unintelligent mess up, and the blame falls on me.

I am not saying they are doing anything wrong. I am saying they have to be OPEN TO TALKING TO ME ABOUT DOING THINGS SAFERLY IF THEY EVER PLAN TO. I don’t trust their intelligence in not getting caught if they do screw with the system. People (yes, I am implying other than I) are stupid. So that was it. I tried bringing it up, and got shot down. I almost wished they screwed up and had to pay. Trouble is, they wouldn’t be the ones doing any paying in case of a screw up. I was fuming, but left home. I had bigger things to be excited about. MEGGY. (Today was supposed to be the day I got to pick up megatr0n. So obviously was a bit excited. I would say I was a lot excited.)

Fast forward in time. Here I am at Best Buy giggling and giddy like a three year old on her first trip to a candy store. The dude gets the computer, and one look and I just know it HASN’T BEEN FIXED.

evilguy: Let me check the system. Oh, we’re sorry sir the charges were a FREAKING 5 DOLLARS over what estimate you’d approved. So we didn’t do anything.
me: Oh, so a guy who’s willing to pay 200 bucks won’t pay 205? Are you fishing insane? Why wasn’t I asked?… Generally blow my top.
evilguy: Sir, we tried contacting you and we couldn’t reach.
me: What fish. I CONTACTED YOU AND YOU TOLD ME ALL IS FINE.
evilguy: Oh :|. Now that you’ve apparently approved it, we can fix it. HEY LEEROY (not a real name, I forgot) HOW DO YOU SPELL REFERENCE? I AM A GOOD SPELLER BUT I DON’T KNOW THIS ONE. Sign here sir.
leeroy: umm

And then I gave up and gave it back to him preparing to live without it for another 3 weeks. Now I really hope they all die and rot in hell. Fishing incompetent, and stupid to boot.

So that was that. I avoided home, and am chilling at a relatives place for the weekend. Which totally negated all that anger and snappiness. I was, for whatever reason, forced to watch a Tamil channel for a bit. Now there were a bunch of movie songs being played. HILARIOUS. Some general notes about actresses from different movies. I could get into actors too, but why? I had enough fun mocking half the cast.

  – find something else to do after their first movie
  – wear the same horrendous costumes which show in all grandness what I’d rather not have seen
  – which results in the obvious – beyond flabby?
  – rejects from north India and associated hilarities wrt dubbing

I love this once a month, half hour dose of back-home-culture-reminder. I’ve never laughed so hard in my life. Boy was I on fire mocking them. Yes, I am going to hell but it was so worth it.

BWAHHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAH! *Wipes tears*

This is irritating. Picked arbitrary sources with different xml feed formats to test aggregate, but rediff’s output seems special and unhandleable by spycyroll. Spent some time trying arbitrarily hacked versions. No luck.

Apparently rediff’s rss output is borked beyond repair. There’s no title and no concept of when the fishing post was published, among other serious issues. Hmm. See it choke in all its glory here.

I guess I will abandon efforts to fix it at my end for now, and send a general flame to the rediffblogs admin. What fish.