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NO DRONE IS AN ISLAND UNTO DRONEHOOD/THE HIVE
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 30th, 2009|01:13 pm] |
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when jesus rises again, i will restore him to factory presets |
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| LE HIVE |
[Oct. 26th, 2009|11:30 am] |
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PENDING RESEARCH ON THE METALLOSPHERE |
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| THINK OF THE CILIA |
[Sep. 20th, 2009|03:19 am] |
I HAVE DRIVEN ALL THE CILIA FROM MY LUNGS
WITH MY POISONCLOUD SUCKING
THIS IS INCORRECT
I HAVE LEFT FALLOW THE FIELD OF MY BODY
THIS IS INCORRECT
IT IS TIME TO SOW NEW SEEDS AND REAP NEW CILIA
IT IS TIME TO TILL THE SOIL OF FLESH AND TAKE PART IN THE CREATOR'S CREATING
think of the cilia
like serfs beating tirelessly
many hands move one burden
a pitchfork into the heart of the despot!
THE SWINEFLU ABOUNDS AT UMCP BECAUSE OF ALL THE PIGS ON FRAT ROW
DEAR JAMES |
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| the boy who cries nola (or wherever) |
[Sep. 19th, 2009|12:52 am] |
maybe it's just having been cooped up the past few days with the flu and bronchitis but i need a change of scene
carnivale is awesome |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 17th, 2009|01:24 am] |
| [ | mode |
| |  relieved | ] |
i didn't realize this until today in the cleansing throes of a feverish, delirious gnosis but kmfdm is substantially a pokemon because their identity is created and reified by self-referentially invoking their moniker. |
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| bummertown |
[Sep. 15th, 2009|07:29 am] |
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i'm missing my grandfather's viewing today and wake tomorrow because i have the fucking swine flu. i have never been to a viewing for someone close to me, and i wanted to because on saturday morning i sat in a room for several hours with his dead body, cold, palled, and starting to smell. i have the arresting image of his open maw burned in my mind, like some howling void i won't comprehend. i won't get to see my uncle that i never see, but i had gotten to spend some time with him this past weekend. my grandfather was brilliant, self-reliant, resourceful, curious, clever, mentally dexterous. he once built ribs for his boat, deriving the curves using calculus, then steaming and bending them into the curves he derived by inserting the lengths of wood in pvc pipes filled with water from the water heater, then removing them to bend them into the proper curve upon blocks. he then fastened the ribs to the boat with approximately 1 billion brass screws. he was a consumer of mathematical history, he was distant but had plenty of heart, he was conspicuously gentle despite his stern exterior. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 22nd, 2009|11:04 am] |
I am going out of town until Sunday night. Tomorrow, I will have gone to commune with the wisps of Lake Arbutus, Michigan. Fuck the affluent and their pontoon boats.
Magister Mazer: My TRWE HIVEMETAL COMP has a playlist of 60% completion, order not finalized. It will be done soon enough, for I must let my soul, and permit its essences to escape and instill an infernal receptacle whose contents will be ignited at the proper time or rather vapyrized in a Volcano brand vapyrizer and inhaled, whereupon a vision of incorruptible clarity will subsume my consciousness and guide my faculties in the completion of forging this disc upon the tireless anvil of The Hive. |
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| buckshot from the brain |
[Jul. 21st, 2009|10:52 pm] |
getting hit by nostalgia real bad, my wheels are having separation anxiety from the track
missing classic drones, need some hang time, like the sum total contained in all of the nba jam series
die hard 4 fucking seriously rips, seriously the tightest fucking movie ever
gotta get a fucking job. fuck. come on baby, roll em high, baby needs a new pair shoes, where shoes = +1 weapon to hit quarter-life crisis which can only be hit +1 or greater magical weapons
going out of town until monday
online classes are weird
seis amores |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 12th, 2009|09:08 pm] |
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I have a half bushel of crabs left over with which I intend to make crabcakes. However, this is kind of an involved task, and if you want to help me do this (and reap the benefits!) hit me uppppp |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 22nd, 2009|09:50 pm] |
| [ | mode |
| | seriously fucking bummed | ] |
patrick unexpectedly left nihilith; he's really busy i guess. let's see if persistence still pays off. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 22nd, 2009|02:17 am] |
weekend tour slayed. i think people like nihilith. persistence pays off.
alex attas is a beautiful man |
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| wankish grievance |
[Jun. 16th, 2009|04:22 pm] |
“Shouldn’t I join the ranks of philosophers and merely make unsubstantiated claims about the wonders of human consciousness? Shouldn’t I stop trying to do some science and keep my head down? Indeed not.” - Kevin Warwick
I guess history is for philosophers and not scientists. He's also said that we're all philosophers and that philosophers don't have day jobs. This guy's work looks really interesting, but his thinly-veiled patina of arrogance towards one of the most substantial cultural productions of knowledge evokes Christian Haydensen's acting in the Star Wars prequels in addition to that hackneyed misunderstanding of the renegotiation of the relationship science and philosophy share in the 20th and 21th centuries. Why bother actually reading something or alternatively being forthcoming about the limits of what one can accomplish in a lifetime and express humility, oh yeah, because of our technology.
"Indeed," What need do we have for history when we pursue the design of AI and act as if this freedom to creatively explore intelligent and being (being really being the least of these three) and consciousness? Why bother practicing a philosophy of science when these things are dwarfed by the potential magnitude of these discoveries? What need have we for moral questions?
Would the retort be, "Oh of course, everyone has a conscience, of course, this biologically determined. We can take this for granted and so are delivered from the obsolete anxiety of questioning our selves, actions, lives, relationships, and outside world."
Clearly, I am being hyperbolic, but this ill-phrasing (and lack of informed specificity) serves to only caricaturization its utterer. It's not becoming of my grievance with this disposition whose qualities I am alleging, that I'm being so uncharitable, and maybe this is basically a pointless rant, but well, consider at the URL.
I will say that it is one of the stupidest cliches of the present era for this 'scientific' reactionism against philosophers of mind who could be perhaps traced back the Greeks, to Plato specifically. It is historical arrogance and honestly appears lazy, if the technocratic practitioner of science or research cannot be bothered to cite the argument or aspect thereof that seems untenable given modern findings. Is this perhaps because they have no philosopher friends they can consult with?
I will admit his work in the field of AI development and research makes me reevaluate my stance that replicating human intelligence is impossible as being an antiquated and possibly untenable view. But if you choose to isolation yourself from this qualitatively historical anxiety, how can you expect other to do the same? Arrogance, and an injunction to accept your technocratic faith and intuitions. Only the Faithful may practice True Science? |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 15th, 2009|12:39 am] |
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specificity is your friend. it's not like you guys have to hang out all the time, but specificity is your friend. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 12th, 2009|03:55 pm] |
dude sloan is pretty tight |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 9th, 2009|05:44 pm] |
Today, I cheated the cousin of death: I got around 5 hours of sleep, which was interrupted by close and loud thunder at 6:30. Maybe the 7 beers I consumed at Stormy Petrel (Matt Wood's band/recording project/brainchild/dreamchild) practice last night caused me to plummet through the strata of slumber, somehow condensing my Circadian rhythms. I am always disappointed that alcohol doesn't help me to sleep with its alleged stereotypical ease, though I've read that this apparently this often does not coincide with medical fact.
My algebraic proficiency has improved, I'm acquiring the ability to employ these tricks that once eluded me. Fear is the mind-killer, it's amusing that people (bureaucrats, incompetent functionaries) do not take this into account with regard to standardized test scores. By amusing, I think I rather mean that it fills me with shame to exists in some tenuous Platonic category of free-willed human beings with these people, let alone share the physical space.
One day, I will justify my acerbic arrogance or abandon it while shooting many beer cans off a fence post, which I will have emptied down my sulking gullet, with a .22 that I will ask my father for on my 25th birthday next year. I have attempted this before, but then I will argue that I am neurologically mature, and fallaciously that my maturity is now a scientific fact. Given that starting point, it is fortunate that I will have a year to craft the argument which will bullseye me a brand new .22 and the recognition from my father, who would never purchase a gun, that I should be allowed to shoot and own a gun. Truthfully, this whole plans strongly resembles a well-intact idiot.
Calculus is easier the second time around, especially when you make the effort to do the homework. I forgot how enjoyable math is, and maybe I will pursue enough of it to acquire the knowledge necessary for circuit design and build an amp deserving of a cabinet fitted with The Shroud of Turin as its grillcloth. That's the best metaphorical superlative I can muster right now. Fuck, I'm going soft. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 20th, 2009|08:19 pm] |
TODAY IS 5-20 THE TRUUUUEE BIRTHDAY OF WEED
BOW DOWN BEFORE CANNABINOR AND SACRIFICE
YOUR SHORT TERM MEMORY ON AN ALTAR OF PLEASURE
AND ILLUSORY ENCHANTMENT |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 14th, 2009|06:24 pm] |
I finished my semester today and to reward myself, I went to the Radio Shack next to Pho 75, where I eat lunch a few times a week, and bought myself a pocket microscope which has the power to magnify at powers ranging from 60x-100x. It's seriously fucking awesome. Only $12.
I have 12 days until I take calculus everyday for 5 weeks. Ugh.
ATTN: Will Jarrot, hollr at yr boi
Also apparently there is a book called "Undoing a DD-Cup Bra without Fumbling" that is 60k words and doesn't use the letter 'e.' Ridiculous. Must be a lot of transitive verbs. The plot appears to be kind of stupid and is probably secondary to this lexicographical stunt. |
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| The Secret Life of Harmonic Overtones in the Affairs of Tone Color |
[May. 13th, 2009|11:09 pm] |
I sporadically use ear training software to exercise my listening skills. Tonight, as I was using the software, I nearly repeated an old mistake of mistaking the interval of a perfect fifth for a perfect fourth. Concerning the questions I had been answering, they asked to me compare the size of 2 intervals, respectively sounded in unbroken unison. On the prior question, I was asked to discern 2 intervals that had the same high note. The intervals in question (womp womp?) were an octave and a major seventh. While I recognized that the high note was the same in both intervals, I thought the high note on the 2nd interval (the major seventh) sounded higher in pitch for some reason. And then it dawned on me. The primary and loudest overtone (one octave about the sounded pitch or note) from the root of the 2nd interval (the note a major seventh below the high note) was interfering with recognizing the pitch of the high note. It almost created a dissonance of a minor 2nd. But this is part of tone color! This wash or overlap of quieter frequencies is what ends up being as being definitive or constitutive of tone color! Perhaps quiet dissonances perhaps hide in everything save Gregorian chant? A UNITY OF OPPOSITES PERHAPS!?!? At any rate, it blew my mind thinking about 'the secret life of overtones.' It also made something else click, as I caught myself momentarily mistaking a fifth for a fourth: I realized I may have been hearing the overtone of the lower pitch, which would create an interval of a perfect fourth with the fifth (the pitch one perfect fifth above the root). Perhaps this happens more certain with P5 intervals in certain (middle C and above?) registers more than others.
also, next time some says something unbearably corny, i'm calling it a double womper with cheese. womp womp |
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