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Friday, September 20th, 2002
7:34 pm - fucking pathetic...
It's Friday night, Jenny's off doing her play, and her friends from NASA are planning to show up, so she's stoked. I'm all ready to party down with a Hot E&M Problem (sooo fucking rusty... It took a couple of hours last night to derive Snell's Law &c. at a dielectric interface from the constitutive relations) at the local watering hole with a pint or two of extra hop for solace.
Right before heading out, I learn that Joss Whedon's new series premieres tonight. I'm all alone here, and I plan on staying in to see S01E01 of Firefly. All by myself.

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Sunday, September 15th, 2002
3:34 pm - whatever happened to Anne Magnuson?
... not that I could be bothered to Google for her. It's more fun simply to imagine her trajectory through the continuum of fame and obscurity, even if she couldn't pronounce either "Dionysus" or "deus ex machina" correctly.

current mood: nauseated

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Thursday, September 12th, 2002
8:49 pm - < * ..... >
one of those days; just can't find the music I want to hear.

it's not as if there's music running through my head and I can't find a track that fits it ... rather, it's as if there's a hollowness in my mind's ear and I can just begin to imagine what would fill it.

what will happen? will it drive me crazy, or worse, will I of needs become a musician?

current mood: discontent

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11:00 am - shrubly you jest
Would somebody please teach that femtocranial cudsucker from Crawford to say "noo clee ar" instead of "nyoo kew ler" when he wheedles for war at the UN?

current mood: angry

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Wednesday, September 11th, 2002
11:38 am - musik musik musik
I can't believe I've never really listened to Stockhausen before or heard how much he influenced Subotnick, Wuorinen and the rest of them, nor that this all goes back to Schoenberg. Even Mamashoe goes back to Schoenberg through Dika Newlin, in a sense, but is it influence or inspiration?

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11:29 am

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9:16 am - OMG so true!
In the realm of the totally uncanny we find Clifford Pickover's ESP experiment. Can you figure out how or why it works?

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Monday, September 9th, 2002
2:42 am - Another gem
I think I'm in love with Jill Stewart of the L.A. New Times. Or at least with her penpersonship.

To those who flap their lips that South Central could blow at any time, I say blow it out your ear.· There was only a whimper of complaint from black activists when the Los Angeles Police Department announced recently that Officer Tarriel Hopper, who killed an aspiring black actor at a Halloween party in 2000, was acting within LAPD policy.

Hopper, you will recall, responded with his partner to the Halloween party because neighbors were angry over the noise. The young actor, holding a realistic plastic gun as part of his Halloween costume, pointed his gun at the officers. Tragically, Hopper thought the gun was real, and shot and killed the young man.

Why were things so darn quiet when Hopper was found to have done nothing wrong? Because he is black.

Had Hopper been white, we would have seen a roiling crowd of angry marchers -- the usual suspects bused in again and again by our local "black leaders" such as Congresswoman Maxine Waters. They would have descended on Parker Center police headquarters to accuse the white officer of "racism" -- not just tragic human error. The L.A. Times would have published utterly unsupportable stories quoting angry leaders about how white officers see black life as something cheap, and thus shoot innocent black people. (The Times never recovered its common sense after the riots, when ransacking thugs -- not political protestors -- broke into the paper's building at First and Spring, stealing computers and breaking stuff.)

The truth is that at the LAPD, mixed racial partners are the norm in squad cars. Minorities make up a high percentage of the brass. Minority cops shoot minority suspects at the same rate as white cops do. Although we nervous whites were not supposed to say so, we were deeply relieved that the shooter-cop was black, and so were lots of Asians, Latinos and others.

How friggin' sad that is.

I will dream more sweetly knowing that journalism and candor aren't yet dead.

current mood: impressed

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2:22 am - why do I do this to myself?
Argh.  First time I've installed RedHat in a couple of years and now I remember why I never looked back.  Eugh.

To be fair: it wasn't RedHat's fault.  I was installing 7.2 (enigma) along with the Promise SuperTrak SX6000 IDE RAID card, and for /once/ I tried following the directions as if I were an average dickhead.

Of course, that got me exactly what I deserved -- a conundrum.  The installation went smoothly enough, I installed Everything, and then it came time to reboot. Fine. Grub comes up, booting off the 497GB RAID-5 array, and the kernel starts! w00t? w00t?

And then it PANICS because it can't find /bin/init. Because it couldn't pivot the real root filesystem with initrd. Because the drivers for the array didn't load. Because three symbols in the pti_st.o module are out of sync and remain unresolved at module insertion time.


So I do what any other Cool Hand Geek would --

boot up the cd with "linux rescue dd" to get the drivers in place,

"chroot /mnt/sysimage" to get into the installed system filespace,

"gunzip  < /boot/initrd-2.4.7-10 > /tmp/initrd.ext2 ; mount -o loop /tmp/initrd.ext2 /mnt",

go into /mnt,

patch the living crap out of pti_st.o with hexedit to bring the scsi_register_Rxxxxxxxx, scsi_unregister_Rxxxxxxxx, and register_blkdev_Rxxxxxxxx symbols into sync with the other modules in that directory,

umount the image,

and gzip it back up again into /boot/initrd-2.4.7-10.

Like an idiot, I reboot and expect it to work. And it does. If I've learned one thing, it's the value of delayed gratification.

W00t w00t w00T!

current mood: pleased

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Sunday, September 8th, 2002
11:05 pm - Patriotism has many faces
A truly glorious, full throttle rant. I'm thoroughly enraptured.

Like me, he doesn't like it that the relatives of the 9/11 victims are gaining a sense of entitlement. Once someone bares his or her soul to the camera, that person wants to be reimbursed -- and that's true to the one-trillionth power for September 11 relatives.

At the same time, the audience is acting just as deplorably. God, the treacle and carrying on from perfect strangers as the first anniversary draws near. I would not hold their tears against anyone in America if I thought they gave a rip about even three or four of the very nice people who got squished to bits when 20,023 souls were snuffed out by a quake on January 26, 2001, in India.

Or if they cared about the 1,100 people drowned and trampled to death in Nigeria on January 27 as they fled down two muddy canals to escape horrific explosions at a huge munitions depot.

Don't recall those tragedies very well, do you?

You see, these disasters happened to foreigners. I don't recall them getting more than a few seconds on the networks. You'd think that here in Los Angeles, in the case of the Indian quake, we'd at least make a mental note: 20,000 dead, 7.7 earthquake, get more bottled water.

But after all, man didn't do that to man. A quake can't be helped. So it's forgotten in an evening or two by us bighearted, courageous citizens of the best country on Earth.

current mood: productive

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Thursday, August 1st, 2002
3:34 am - errati non carborundum est
needs more wiggly

(gets the hell out of the Dodge)

current mood: restless

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1:59 am - 1P!
Is this thing on?

No one knows I'm here.
To excel at expression,
declaim to the void.

Strictly speaking, this is not as onanistic as it may now seem.

needs less wiggly feeling

current mood: weird

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