tague

Dear James Gosling

Thu, 13 Nov 2008 03:51:31 GMT

Is unsigned really too much to ask?

Wed, 08 Oct 2008 03:51:29 GMT

Yet Again

Sat, 04 Oct 2008 05:54:35 GMT

there seems to be some confusion in this.

You! Haz! Na0!

i guess i was unclear in this matter

Fri, 26 Sep 2008 06:36:16 GMT

You must has! Now.

Object 01

Sat, 09 Aug 2008 22:08:13 GMT

Teaching ur doing it wrong

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 06:28:49 GMT

"They were traumatized, but we wanted them to be traumatized," said guidance counselor Lori Tauber. "That's how they get the message."

Where do they find these people?

Fri, 30 May 2008 07:18:02 GMT

Fri, 30 May 2008 04:20:41 GMT

Dear Intrawebs,

~~Go see this. Seriously.~~

Let me rephrase, You WILL go see this. Don't make me use the blink tag.

I can has Chocolate Poprocks

Wed, 27 Feb 2008 05:48:15 GMT

Orson Restaurant via SF Eater

A friend and I ended up having dinner at Orson, Elizabeth Faulkner's
new restaurant, this evening. She's the owner of Citizen Cake. They
just opened today and we ended up getting the first dish out of the
kitchen, and she came out of the kitchen to tell us personally.

The restaurant is neat space, old industrial space on 4th Street, with
some of the industrial features left. There's a large circular bar,
there is also a lounge upstairs, with some additional dining area.
They have two kitchens, the main one downstairs then a pastry kitchen
upstairs.

We had a bunch of different small plates, soup shots (cauliflower,
mushroom), a parmaggio pudding, assorted cheese plate, the tri-tip
with potato foam from the charcuterie selection, butterfish brule,
duck fat french fries with bernaise sauce, and a violet ravoili with
lavendar ice cream for desert. The food definitely has a touch of the
whole molecular gastronomy shtick. I'm not sure I bought all the
dishes but it was an interesting experience.

The parmaggio pudding was served with roasted red pepper and, i'm not
making this up, chocolate pop rocks. The pudding + red peppers was
fantastic, the pop rocks were interesting. I'm not sure if pudding +
pop rocks was interesting or insane. The tri-tip was fantastic as was
the soup. The fries were tasty but needed something, which was the
aoli we found half-way though the dish. The violet ravioli had a
similar texture and taste as mochi or maybe sweet bean paste and was
stuffed with sweetened mash potatoes. There was also orange salt on
the plate.

Elisabeth actually came over and talked with us about the food and
what we though several times, like really talked for several minutes,
not just a hi how are you. She told us all about their plans for some
pizzas in the future and we chatted a lot about the chocolate
poprocks. Very cool, however the service was awful and has many kinks
to still work out. The bar was very understaffed for the number of customers and they couldn't even run my credit card at the end
of the meal. The servers aren't familiar
with the dishes yet, and this is the kind of food that needs a little
explanation. Also, they don't have the wine list or cocktails together
yet.

Still, it was alot of fun. I'd suggest trying to slip in and have a
chance to try out the place while Elizabeth is still poking her head
into the dining room and talking to customers about dishes. Just be
forewarned, that the service and the dishes are still being tweaked a
bit.

They were very upfront about being new and we didm't expect everything would go smoothly, but we had a very good time. I'm definitely going to head back in a couple of months after they've had a chance to finish their shakedown cruise.

Political Choose Your Own Adventure

Sun, 14 Oct 2007 05:31:27 GMT

As I have said before, if Bob Barr and the ACLU are on the same side of an issue, you should really take note. So,

If you happen to be liberal, please click here.

If you happen to be conservative, please click here.

os x 10.4.9

Mon, 30 Apr 2007 01:26:05 GMT

Dearest Intrawebs,

Does anyone know of problems with the OS X 10.4.9 update on older hardware? Both my laptop and desktop have developed some odd problem and I can't tell if it's hardware on the verge of failure or a software issue with the latest system update.

Last night I rebooted the desktop and when it came back up it started whirring something fierce, so I quickly shut the machine down - but it kept powering itself back up. I unplugged it and popped open the case, which was far hotter than it should be, so my hypothesis is that the temperature sensor kept powering the machine up to run the fan and try cool things down.

This morning I powered the machine up to see what was going on, only this time the machine was running whisper quiet -- too quiet for this particular machine -- although when the case was open the fan was running, I just didn't feel any "exhaust" coming out of rear vent and I didn't feel my output from the CPU fan. Any thoughts here, is the fan or temperature sensor going bad or could this be a software issue?

The laptop is having problems with alert sounds, some applications have just stopped making alert sounds or only occasionally make sounds, sometimes clipped. This machine had a hard drive crash a couple of months ago and is running with a new drive.

The reason I ask about software problems is a friend of mine is having similar issues with his equipment, almost too similar for it to be coincidental hardware failure. Neither of these machines is modded, although I have put new drives in both. (Year or two ago for the deskop, month ago for the laptop).

Any thoughts before I run them off to the genius bar?

Since we have to wait for Round 2

Sun, 22 Apr 2007 19:10:23 GMT



"Since we have to wait for Round 2" on Google Video
This is what Big Joe should have done to Radulov.

Forgive me this my sins

Thu, 19 Apr 2007 07:47:17 GMT

I can't believe I'm doing this but the only worthwhile comments I've seen about the Virgina Tech shooting are captured over at BoingBoing. Scroll down to the comments by Laura S. Petelle and Charles Platt. These should be stapled to the forehead of every politician and pundit before they say anything.

I realize that reactionary is more fun, but can we just let this thing digest for a month before we start calling for anything?

The Young Fools

Sat, 14 Apr 2007 05:31:19 GMT

High-heels were struggling with a full-length dress
So that, between the wind and the terrain,
At times a shining stocking would be seen,
And gone too soon. We liked that foolishness.

Also, at times a jealous insect's dart
Bothered out beauties. Suddenly a white
Nape flashed beneath the branches, and this sight
Was a delicate feast for a young fool's heart.

Evening fell, equivocal, dissembling,
The women who hung dreaming on our arms
Spoke in low voices, words that had such charms
That ever since our stunned soul has been trembling.

Paul Verlaine

Joe Heller

Thu, 12 Apr 2007 07:15:02 GMT

True story, Word of Honor:
Joseph Heller, an important and funny writer
now dead,
and I were at a party given by a billionaire
on Shelter island.
I said, "Joe, how does it make you feel
to know that our host only yesterday
may have made more money
than your novel 'Cach-22'
has earned in its entire history?"
And Joe said, "I've got something he can never have."
And I said, "What on earth could that be, Joe?"
And Joe said, "The knowledge that I've got enough."
Not bad! Rest in peace!

Kurt Vonnegut

Beauty

Thu, 12 Apr 2007 05:02:02 GMT

I am as lovely as a dream in stone,
And this my heart where each finds death in turn,
Inspires the poet with a love as lone
As clay eternal and as taciturn.

Swan-white of heart, a sphinx no mortal knows,
My throne is in the heaven's azure deep;
I hate all movements that disturb my pose,
I smile not ever, neither do I weep.

Before my monumental attitudes,
That breathe a soul into the plastic arts,
My poets pray in austere studious moods,

For I, to fold enchantment round their hearts,
Have pools of light where beauty flames and dies,
The placid mirrors of my luminous eyes.

Charles Baudelaire

Der Erlkönig

Wed, 11 Apr 2007 05:26:33 GMT

German

Wer reitet so spät durch Nacht und Wind?
Es ist der Vater mit seinem Kind;
Er hat den Knaben wohl in dem Arm,
Er faßt ihn sicher, er hält ihn warm.

"Mein Sohn, was birgst du so bang dein Gesicht?"
"Siehst, Vater, du den Erlkönig nicht?
Den Erlenkönig mit Kron und Schweif?"
"Mein Sohn, es ist ein Nebelstreif."

"Du liebes Kind, komm, geh mit mir!
Gar schöne Spiele spiel' ich mit dir;
Manch' bunte Blumen sind an dem Strand,
Meine Mutter hat manch gülden Gewand."

"Mein Vater, mein Vater, und hörest du nicht,
Was Erlenkönig mir leise verspricht?"
"Sei ruhig, bleibe ruhig, mein Kind;
In dürren Blättern säuselt der Wind."

"Willst, feiner Knabe, du mit mir gehn?
Meine Töchter sollen dich warten schön;
Meine Töchter führen den nächtlichen Reihn,
Und wiegen und tanzen und singen dich ein."

"Mein Vater, mein Vater, und siehst du nicht dort
Erlkönigs Töchter am düstern Ort?"
"Mein Sohn, mein Sohn, ich seh es genau:
Es scheinen die alten Weiden so grau."

"Ich liebe dich, mich reizt deine schöne Gestalt;
Und bist du nicht willig, so brauch ich Gewalt."
"Mein Vater, mein Vater, jetzt faßt er mich an!
Erlkönig hat mir ein Leids getan!"

Dem Vater grauset's, er reitet geschwind,
Er hält in Armen das ächzende Kind,
Erreicht den Hof mit Müh' und Not;
In seinen Armen das Kind war tot.

English

Who rides so late through night and wind?
It is the father with his child.
He holds the boy safe in his arm
He holds him safe, he keeps him warm.

"My son, why do you hide your face so fearfully?"
"Father, do you not see the Elf king?
The Elf king with crown and robe?"
"My son, it's a wisp of fog."

"You lovely child, come, go with me!
Nothing but beautiful games I'll play with you;
Many colourful flowers are on the shore,
My mother has many golden robes."

"My father, my father, can't you hear,
What the Elf king quietly promises me?"
"Be calm, stay calm, my child;
It is the wind rustling in the dry leaves."

"Do you want to come with me, fine lad?
My daughters should already be waiting for you;
My daughters lead the nightly folkdance
And rock you and dance and sing."

"My father, my father, and can't you see there,
The Elf king daughters in the gloomy place?"
"My son, my son, I see it well:
It is the old grey willows gleaming."

"I love you, your beautiful form entices me;
And if you're not willing, I shall use force."
"My father, my father, now he takes hold of me!
The Elf king has wounded me!"

It horrifies the father; he rides swiftly,
Holding in his arms the moaning child.
He reaches the yard with great difficulty;
In his arms, the child was dead.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Puck's Soliloquy From A Midsummer's Night Dream

Tue, 10 Apr 2007 04:43:36 GMT

If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, we will mend:
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call;
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.

William Shakespeare

Agnus Dei

Sun, 08 Apr 2007 21:47:11 GMT

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona nobis pacem.

Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.
Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.
Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, grant us peace.

mad madam

Sun, 08 Apr 2007 05:57:03 GMT

dancing on the floor
with stars in my eyes
looking up at you

The sound of the water

Sat, 07 Apr 2007 07:12:36 GMT

水のおとは
さびしき庵の
ともなれや
みねの嵐の
たえまたえまに

Mizu no oto wa
sabishiki io no
tomo nare ya
mine no arahshi no
taema taema ni

The sound of the water
is my companion
in this lonely hut
in lulls between
the storms on the peak

Saigo Takamori

i am dangerously undercaffeinated

Fri, 06 Apr 2007 06:55:28 GMT

no coffee at work
machine was broken today
i will kill you all

Elegy I - Jealousy

Thu, 05 Apr 2007 04:09:15 GMT

FOND woman, which wouldst have thy husband die,
And yet complain'st of his great jealousy ;
If, swollen with poison, he lay in his last bed,
His body with a sere bark covered,
Drawing his breath as thick and short as can
The nimblest crocheting musician,
Ready with loathsome vomiting to spew
His soul out of one hell into a new,
Made deaf with his poor kindred's howling cries,
Begging with few feign'd tears great legacies,—
Thou wouldst not weep, but jolly, and frolic be,
As a slave, which to-morrow should be free.
Yet weep'st thou, when thou seest him hungerly
Swallow his own death, heart's-bane jealousy?
O give him many thanks, he's courteous,
That in suspecting kindly warneth us.
We must not, as we used, flout openly,
In scoffing riddles, his deformity ;
Nor at his board together being sat,
With words, nor touch, scarce looks, adulterate.
Nor when he, swollen and pamper'd with great fare,
Sits down and snorts, caged in his basket chair,
Must we usurp his own bed any more,
Nor kiss and play in his house, as before.
Now I see many dangers ; for it is
His realm, his castle, and his diocese.
But if—as envious men, which would revile
Their prince, or coin his gold, themselves exile
Into another country, and do it there—
We play in another house, what should we fear?
There we will scorn his household policies,
His silly plots, and pensionary spies,
As the inhabitants of Thames' right side
Do London's mayor, or Germans the Pope's pride.

John Donne

Alone in the Wind on the Prarie

Wed, 04 Apr 2007 00:42:09 GMT

I know a seraph who has golden eyes,
And hair of gold, and body like the snow.
Here in the wind I dream her unbound hair
Is blowing round me, that desires sweet glow
Has touched her pale keen face, and willful mien.
And though she steps as one in manner born
To tread the forests of fair Paradise,
Dark memory's wood she chooses to adorn.
Here with bowed head, bashful with half-desire
She glides into my yesterday's deep dream,
All glowing by the misty ferny cliff
Beside the far forbidden thundering stream.
Within my dream I shake with the old flood.
I fear its going, ere the spring days go.
Yet pray the glory may have deathless years,
And kiss her hair, and sweet throat like the snow.

Vachel Lindsay

haiku

Tue, 03 Apr 2007 07:42:04 GMT

blue wind blows swiftly
watching ravens high circling
this will end badly