Category Archives: Personal

A la recherche du recherche.

Title's a pun on "A la recherche du temps purdue," by Proust. I haven't read it.
The phrases translate "Of the Search for Lost Time" and "... for Research."



I've updated my portfolio:
    https://www.mediafire.com/folder/kr2bjyn1k3gjr/mlptk-recent
    WARNING: ADULTS ONLY due to explicit sexual content.
    Videlicet and DiffWalk are still buggy.
    However, I have established something approaching a meaningful testbed for
    Videlicet: which, I assume, can be easily completed by even a high schooler.
I advise you to download right now, before the U.S.A. puts the kibosh on freedom
of speech. I'm not even joking. They're terrorist scum. As for my own work, it's
free of virii (except, possibly, the companion curriculum) unless "someone" has
interposed his or her Uncle Sam-ly might between you and MediaFire.



I've wasted my whole life studying science: a field humans would prefer to shun.
And it _was_ a waste. The decades I exhausted in research, the ultimately fruit-
less pursuit of any joy or love at all in being, the long years I passed away
trying to teach what amounted to a gaggle of ignorant bumpkins (the human race):
all worthless. 

Although my works weren't well-received, I accomplished much before the end. My
achievements place me in the lower ranks of eminence -- where I reside, with
conifers around me. Insofar as I may teach you all that I know, I have attempted
to do so with my works and lectures thus far...

... and this is, probably, the end. I am afflicted by cerebral palsy due to many
lobotomies and torture throughout my lifetime; I have a constant migraine; can't
concentrate on my work; am frequently malnourished and tired; have been, for far
too long, unable to find work; and am persecuted by an incredibly huge malicious
conspiracy of villains who intend to hurt me for literally no reason at all.



I will now reminisce. This may take a few minutes. 1%... 2%... 3%...



Back in the halcyon days when I was a little boy, I wanted to be a little girl
instead. This was a source of great amusement to many around me, who shunned and
reviled what they foolishly believed to be the dread specter of Teh Gay. In fact
my sentiments were more along the lines that I should've been born female, but,
because my genome contained a Y chromosome, I was doomed to live a man's life.

And it IS a man's life in the modern army, where we remember our past lives and
discover exactly how much humanity has tortured us throughout the millennia! But
I was not to discover that for many years, because every time I discovered it my
cerebral cortex was "corrected" (cut to pieces) to cause me to forget again.

I have often been abused and tormented by those around me, in this and probably
all my other lifetimes, if any. Electrochemical lobotomy, identity reassignment,
and just about all the other horrors the modern world has to offer have been, at
one time or another, inflicted on me personally. I have also experienced nearly
every single horror the wilderness has to offer, at one time or another.

So it was that, when my family and those surrounding me began to abuse & exploit
me for their entertainment, I wasn't terribly surprised. I tried my best to put
up with them; nevertheless, as with all squalling children, my discipline broke
and I inevitably lost my temper. I became nothing more than a sentient beast --
no longer the sapient intelligence I once was -- and mere Earthlings had finally
succeeded in dragging me down into the mud where they oinked and rooted. (Which
really stunk, because oinking and rutting can be done outside of the mud too.)

"You have fallen from your ivory tower," they cried! "You are human after all,"
they crowed! "Now you have to suffer," they clucked! "Therefore, beg us for help
that we may further insult you," they grunted! Producing their clubs, they then
metaphorically beat me to death by refusing me any place among them because...
well... IDK. I've tried to reason with them about it and they appear not to be
sapient enough to offer any reply that isn't unintelligible sentient gibberish.

I gave up. They had won. I couldn't beat them.

I joined them instead.

But that eventuality was not to be until the far future, when I was thirty years
of age. In the meantime, I tried to live my life. It was somewhat lonely, which
is why I've so little to say about it and nearly nothing to say about people.



Among my first experiences & thoughts about this life were that I wanted to farm
-- but I was not suitable to the task. I then thought I should be an artist or
an astronaut. Some time later I discovered mathematics, which was, to me, a
convenient blending of art with science.

In fact, computer programming is very much like art, and when I first discovered
the science of computing I was much enthused. I subsequently wrote many computer
programs throughout middle- and high-school, exhausting much hobby time on my
curriculum of independent study. After I'd learnt how to read and write, I then
went on to study computer science at the University of Idaho between 2006 - '09.

I published my portfolio, containing my awesome works (of greater magnitude than
those of most men you'll encounter), several years after I'd departed from UI in
the year 2009. I have contributed data from my experiments to computer science &
the mathematical study of computer programming has also benefited slightly from
my examination of Turing's axiom and predicates arising thence.



During my lifetime, I spoke to and learnt from many people: most of whom deserve
exactly no mention, and some of whom are perfectly content to see their names in
the sand become washed away by the incoming tide because they have accomplished
their own great deeds and need not curry favor from any one.

Among lessons I've received from such individuals, to whom I'll graciously refer
as humans (because some actually deserve the title -- you know who you are), was
that self-denial, although not strictly necessary to an ethical lifetime, must
be in significant extent. Desire is an easy way for others to take advantage:
although the desirous can't be faulted when they succumb to temptation (drugs &
other means make this very much impossible on some occasions), those who would
disadvantage others are quite oblivious to the cries of their victims.

Desire truly is the cause of all suffering, which life is, but to my view it's
more a matter of larcenous middle-men than it is one of avaricious monks getting
what they deserve for peeping at the nudie bar. (Of course, they'd never.) None
the less, so many swindlers are that we may just as well be paranoid every day.

Speaking of desire and suffering, what about death? This is getting pretty old
these days, but I'd like to ask all you monks: how in the flying !#@$ is anyone
supposed to live if he desires nothing? (Of course, none can.) Self-denial leads
to dying of starvation, then, in this assumption of mine, and self-indulgence is
as close to Nirvana as only wealthy hedonists can arrive.

"Should we all be trying to kill ourselves?" I've heard from anxious voices? No.
We'll all die someday. The journey is somewhat desirable, even if not nearly as
much as is the destination!

But it's probably helpful if we all try not to hurt anyone in the meantime.



I mentioned joining the ideology of the masses when I couldn't beat it. Did you
know how easily one can lose his mind? I only had to starve for nearly a decade
before I began to entertain regular thoughts of an unprintable* nature.

    * Unprintable nature is due to terrorist censorship regime which imprisons
      without trial in concentration camps called mental institutions, and does
      not necessarily imply endorsement of this regime by WordPress. No purchase
      of anti-tank missiles is necessary and supplies are limited to one fatwa
      per household.

Well, long story short: because I was completely devoid of the capacity to find
any employment, and because I couldn't care about living any longer now that my
brain had been reduced to oozing sludge by yokels with electrochemical clubs, I
confronted a terrible choice: starve to death over the course of the next decade
or finally do something with my life I've meant to since the very day it began.



And that was, like, totally the story of my life!
You know, they say it ain't over 'til it's over, but, lemme tell ya...
    - I have been serenaded by more fat ladies than I can count on both hands!
    - I have not only heard the bell toll, nay, for I have tolled it!
    - I have both emptied my bucket list and kicked it! (The list, I mean.)
    - My heart has gone on! (And on, and on!)
    - I _aaaalmost_ earned my Ph.D. without ever attending University for a day!
    - My ass has literally been worked off!
    - I understand what it's like to be sick to death of society!
    - I have discovered the music of the spheres... and masturbated to it!
    - I am _LITERALLY_ a saint! (And I live in a haint. Haintin' saints!)
    -                      ^- I shit you neither, foolish Earthlings.
... and it's been great fun! Thanks to everyone with whom I once corresponded,
for fully understanding the inevitable consequence of trying to help a wretched
torture victim ever enjoy anything about being alive: his or her lictors will
simply grab all the humanitarian aid you attempt to provide, such that, although
you certainly found the dissenter a valuable asset worth your assistance, you'll
have simply thrown your money into a Sarlacc pit of despair in any case!

And now, from the cockles of my heart... or, perchance, my sub-cockle area... I
will present to you the next act in my spellbinding saga. (Stay tuned.)
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And Now For A Bit Of Fun. (Redux.)

(Title is a line from _Monty Python’s Flying Circus_.)

Frigid northern Idaho winters be the times what try gender-nonexclusive souls:
A nifty Python script & some data recovery have been my only accomplishments
as naughty pictures of Amaterasu hastened the thawing of my heart. Boi~ng!

Today’s the day I will write of myself in the third person.
But first, I will link you to my work and some auxiliaries.
This will take some time.

I must warn you: My portfolio is now sexually explicit, because I have recently
assembled portions of a dossier documenting my life to date.
If you’re too young, why not go play Narbacular Drop instead?

So, the PARENTAL DISCRETION caution is no longer entirely sufficient. Instead
you are advised that the work is ADULTS ONLY: don’t even touch it if a child.
The “Adults Only” category applies to ALL of these links, which are external to
WordPress, and the content hosted there is not necessarily endorsed by either
WordPress or the external host. Which is good for them, because it’s naughty.

I have at last retitled the archives with less confusing file names, and I have
rearranged the directory structure to be more sensible and easier to handle with
the unzip (manual section 1, by Info-ZIP) decompression utility: because each
archive contains similar directory structure, extracting them all into the CWD
will produce a less confusing output. Warning: Windows 10 will fail to extract
some of the files due to long filenames. 7zip (incl.) and unzip don’t do this.

If you download all the archives, you’ll need several hundred MB to decompress.
I’ve done what I could to ensure that all the megabytes are permissible by law,
but censorship laws in my country (USA) are restrictive and becoming more so…
exercise discretion.
If you wish to maintain a strictly lawful archive, then delete the banned books.
Actually, you might like to just delete everything, on the off chance that your
local apparatschik might declare you mentally ill due to unapproved thoughts.

A standalone version of MLPTK (0.7 MB / 0.2 MB), in case you have no time for the larger archives:
http://www.mediafire.com/file/zu0vmah7egko759/TK-Standalones-2017-03-09.zip

 
My complete portfolio is, owing to recent (and, I hope, conclusory) additions from auld lang syne, 22.8 megabytes. Compressed, it is 12 MB:
http://www.mediafire.com/file/3d77cvmujtvg3c7/TK-Portfolio-CompleteWorks-2017-03-09.zip
(New: duplicate file culler in Python, MLPTK’s “roman” module, & naughty chats.)

Syntax-highlighted illustrations in candy-colored HTML format are available (23.8 MB uncompressed / 3.3 MB compressed):
http://www.mediafire.com/file/6pp764w8n7w8vll/TK-SyntaxHighlightsOnly-2017-03-09.zip

My book, “Yawnie’s Whole” fills about 1,100 A4 pages (13.3 MB / 7.1 MB), and I have corrected the typesetter malfunction that caused images not to appear in their respective chapters:
http://www.mediafire.com/file/0c27018vy8nb14h/TK-Book-YawniesWhole-2017-03-10.zip
(These are the Ice Capades.)

Another 5,000 pp document my past (27.2 MB / 14.9 MB), and I have corrected the typesetter malfunction that caused images not to appear in their respective chapters:
http://www.mediafire.com/file/m2989o7e39hiepm/TK-Book-Addendum-YawnieSpots-2017-03-10.zip
(These are the Buttscapades.)

The companion curriculum (“Relevant Works By Others”), now its own archive (64.5 MB / 31.1 MB), contains the indispensable Berkeley Utilities and a diverse assortment of other excellent resources for programmers and Windows users:
http://www.mediafire.com/file/ttrd55i2xd85r35/TK-CompanionCurriculum-2017-03-09.zip

Recently I’ve been exploring elderly volumes.
Here are some other curios I won’t be distributing after this time:

34.4 megabytes of finely crafted TrueType fonts (9.4 megs zipped):
http://www.mediafire.com/file/ucjwc2pvqbu9mrx/TrueTypeFonts.7z

A Windows compilation of the SWFTools suite version 0.7.0. (32.5 MB / 5 MB):
http://www.mediafire.com/file/78o25vg2hhythnn/SWFTools070exe.7z

A selection of episodes of the out-of-print children’s television series, Sonic the Hedgehog (SatAM, not AoSTH; 100.8 MB / 98 MB):
http://www.mediafire.com/file/b9c19a9dut3fx0g/SatAMSelections.7z

A miscellany, including other out-of-print works (58.3 MB / 35.4 MB):
http://www.mediafire.com/file/ohrnagw6q27n3k9/Curios.7z

The combined size of all the downloads is about two hundred Megabytes.

Think not that those ten archives contain the Owl of Thebes; for, gentles all,
the foregoing hyperlinks were created with the courteous assistance of MediaFire
— a file host serving via Hypertext Transport Protocol. You may have observed
their advertisements on the interstitial page: I haven’t yet clicked one, but I
guess they might be OK — if not, then wouldn’t BBB complaints have been filed?

And here is a faux press release I’ve been working on since January…

      ADORING MASSES SWOON AT UMPTEENTH DEBUT OF _TOYS 4 TOTS_ CANDIDATE!
  _Toys for Tots_ not as enthusiastic about introducing children to Falstaff.

Archivist Thor King once again spins a dreidel squarely into the Public Domain
with his much trumpeted posting today of MLPTK's officially final edition.

The composition, titled "MLPTK", contains his portfolio: a simple command line
tool written in JavaScript for use with Web browsers, as well as assorted other
"sideshows" sufficing quotidian archival tasks. In these latter, work continues.

Full to brimming with thousands of lines of invective artfully hidden among tens
of thousands of lines of source code, Thor's publication -- not as much textbook
as periodical, considering his publication schedule -- is both an indispensable
companion to the casual programmer and an ominous reminder of what Wyrd sets in
store for unlucky engineers: namely, the affection of rodents.

A cursory bibliography is included.

Included also: assorted trinkets & curios collected during the Worldwide Web's
toddling days -- late 1990s through about 2010, when Internet access in the USA
had grown ubiquitous but before the only use we ever put to it was gift shopping
-- and items from his unique body of knowledge, the swashbucklers' lore.

Like asking a grown man why he carries his midday meal in a child's lunchbox,
inquiring of Thor why he does not restrict his archive to only those items of
immediate utility (or indeed, even to his own exclusively) is just Not Done(TM).

As a bovine might deposit a patty of brown gold in a happy orchard as it grazes
its way past, the portfolio (as it is typeset for PDF format) also includes the
autobiography of a vagabond, replete with rhapsodical reprisal of recollection:
a fantastic story of intrigue is belied by the writer's apparently (& actually)
mundane personal wont of tedious exactitude in mediocrity, although the tale is
hindered by its cumbersome and banal scrivening.

His reasoning regardless, we note that his book ("Yawnie's Whole: the complete
Yawnie, for Yawnie enthusiasts"), as set for A4 area, numbers aproximadamente
one thousand pages, of which perhaps half is in English and the rest in code.
One way or the other, "Yawnie's Whole" is a gaping chasm of analytical logic fit
to tie Gordian knots around the necks of capitalist pigs: cut them as you will.
The PDF file was created with the technical assistance of LaTeX via TeX Live, &
DocBook via DBLatex, with appearances by an all-star cast of GNU core utilities.

For those not yet initiated into the candy-striper's bespec{k,tac}led part-time
wonderland, and in addition to the PDF, Thor's portfolio is supplemented by yet
another archive containing colorfully syntax-highlighted HTML documents. With
these, Thor's intends to illustrate the so-called "look & feel" (ambience) of
his day-to-day working environment: which is, to paraphrase a line from the film
"Night Flyer" by Stephen King, redder than the Devil's eye on one side, blacker
than a woodchuck's ass on the other. (And it is not known to drink.)

Although Thor once cautioned children to speak to their parents about reading
his portfolio, due to force of law he now advises them to avoid it entirely: his
recent inclusion of several explicit portions renders him uncouth. Because, as
we all know, a child once warned is forever guarded, Thor discharges his further
obligation to the youngsters of the Internets and returns to his lab equipment.



The author lives in scenic Idaho, where he spends his days asleep and his nights
shipping furry slash fiction in thirty two languages.

Thor, 30, has written for two decades, pausing occasionally to pick his nose.

In his copious spare time, he keys source code using only his left pinky toe.

Unless a massive government conspiracy hangs like a thunderhead over your entire
way of life, you may be able to reach him at these additional locations:

         ┌─────────────────────────────────────────┐
         │ Thor King                               │
         │ 1433 Flannigan Creek Road               │
         │ Viola, ID 83872                         │
         │ United States of America                │
         │                                         │
         │ colonel32.dll@gmail.com                 │
         │ https://plus.google.com/+ThorYawnieKing │
         │ https://www.facebook.com/thor.king.524  │
         │ https://www.twitter.com/NotAYawnoceros  │
         └─────────────────────────────────────────┘

Cheroot Privileges: a Potpourri of Pointlessness.

Cheroot (Tamil "shuruttu" meaning "a roll"): a cigar. Reputed to be pungent.
chroot (GNU coreutils, manual section 8): run command in special root directory.
Potpourri: a compost heap, montage, medley, or ragout. NB: never compost meat.
Root privileges: to have these is to be the super-user, operator, admin, etc.
Root: a dental nerve, et c.



My foregoing post touched on socket programming, when I mentioned TFTP. (BTW, MS
Windows has a TFTP client built-in: in the Programs & Features control panel app
open "turn Windows features on or off.")

Sockets are a hardware abstraction layer that deals with computer networking.
As usual, gritty details are beyond me and I gloss them over. (Tee hee. That's a
pun about oyster pearls.) Suffice to say that sockets are ports of call for data
transmitted between computers: hardware and protocol not withstanding, bytes fly
out one socket and land in another. We built this Internet on socket calls.
(A pun on Jefferson {Airplane,Starship}'s "We Built This City.")

For more information, consult the RFCs, and the IEEE's 802.* network specs.
Perhaps ftp.rfc-editor.org, www.faqs.org/rfcs, or www.ietf.org/rfc are of use?

And an update to my Javascript snippet in the remedial lecture...
    function initnary (ctr) { for (var i=0; i < ctr.length; ctr[i++] = 0); }
    function incnary (counter) { // Faster, but rollover instead of sentry.
        for (var L = counter.length, i = L - 1;
             (nary[i] = ((nary[i--] + 1) % L)) == 0 && i > -1;
        ) ; // Faster than the example in WP12, but rollover not sentry.
    } // end incnary(): Increments N-ary counter (length >= 1), by reference
    // ...
    var nary = new Array(items.length);
    initnary(nary); // nary's state: 0 0 0 ... 0
    incnary(nary); // nary's state: 0 0 0 ... 1
    // ...
... which is possibly a bit faster than the other one, although neither will be
optimized by an optimizing compiler (due to the complicated loop initializer), &
therefore both are of marginal utility.



It's 2017. To begin my new year on the right foot, I began it on the wrong foot.

My first hint that I'd need to effect some impromptu renovations to my skeleton
came to me when I noticed that I had begun to experience an unpleasant taste of
musty dust after picking clean my right anterior maxillar tricuspid. (The reason
why shattered teeth taste of moist chalk is probably because dentine & chalk are
both calcareous substances. I'd guess chalk rots too, if infected.) Another way
I could describe the taste of a rotten tooth is "like hard-boiled eggs that were
rotten before they were boiled," because they smell and taste alike. The dentine
(the material composing the interior of teeth) also feels distinctly like chalk,
or like gritty soil, when I palpate it with my tongue.

Anyway, my left anterior mandibular tricuspid has also been a goner since auld
lang syne, and the bone fragments left over inside my gums have really begun to
bug me, so a taste of fetor was the last straw.

Luckily, I had a small piece of surgical gauze left over from when I foolishly
had my wisdom teeth removed. (If you're considering removal of yours, then I am
here to tell you: DON'T! It's a waste of money, and, unless your teeth are truly
rotten or a source of pain, there is simply _no reason_ to remove even one.) If
you haven't tried to get a grip on one of your teeth before, you wouldn't know,
but even a tooth you've wiped dry is difficult to grasp without gauze.

I'm also the lucky owner of a pair of surgical forceps. These handy little tools
look like a long and delicate pair of pliers with the fulcrum very close to the
gripping side of the levers. ("They really pinch.")

In case you were curious, forceps are usually employed to grasp small objects in
surgical procedures. They can also be used as roach clips. (For avoiding burns &
stains of the fingers while smoking. Wide pipe stems containing packed cotton
accomplish the same end: you can make one from a hollow ballpoint pen and cotton
balls sold at any general store. Nevertheless a forcep is more generally utile.)

Those teeth's days had long been numbered. Their time had come!

So it was that I spent tedious hours doubled over with my fingers crammed in my
mouth, wiggling that thrice-damned curse of a bone to try and work it loose.
I quite unwisely, and disregarding the risk of breaking my jaw, channeled thirty
years of pent aggression into what remained of my tricuspid molar, as malodorous
flakes of rotten enamel & dentine fell upon my tongue like evil snow.

I knew I had effected some kind of progress when I heard a muffled click inside
of my head -- bones have eerie acoustic properties, like an unsettling resonance
and a tendency to produce a crunching sound (rather than a snap) when fractured
-- and felt a stabbing pain travel up the side of my head. Thankfully the pain I
felt due to prolonged migraine headache rendered this somewhat less intolerable.

I repeated this procedure until I lost consciousness.
Well, that's how I had hoped that this would end, but it didn't.
I could not bear the pain, and had to stop trying to pull my tooth.

Unfortunately for me, although I did manage to work the molar somewhat further
out of my jaw than it had loosened already (my dental hygiene, in case the memo
hasn't reached you, is worse than Austin Powers'), I didn't completely extract.
All I managed to do was cause a hairline fracture of my maxilla, which will un-
doubtedly be a source of major difficulty and pain to me in the decades to come.

Worse yet, my application of too much pressure via the forceps caused additional
shattering of the tooth; further attempts at extrication are counterindicated.
That's just as well, because the kind of general-purpose forceps I had available
aren't for dental extraction: this requires a special kind of forcep I hadn't.

I suppose it's just as well: considering the fact that some dentine remained in
the shell of the tooth, its nerve was probably still alive and well. The nerves
connecting teeth to the root canal are extremely sensitive, and interconnected;
what's worse, I could easily have broken my jaw by violently levering the tooth;
therefore, extracting my tooth myself would very likely have been suicide.

So, as far as sockets go, my teeth will be rotting in theirs for some time yet.



Other noteworthy pratfalls during January:
1. Accidentally locked myself out of Windows by attempting to install Ubuntu 16
   alongside, which occurred after it prompted me to designate a BIOS boot part
   (prior installs didn't manifest the prompt and gave me no trouble).
2. Locked myself out of Ubuntu too by trying to unbrick Windows.
3. Flashed in the backup EFI system partition and boot sector from a disk image,
   reset the partition table with fdisk, thanked lucky stars, began again at 1.
4. Broke shiny new laptop's fragile keyboard connector. Cursed fate.

Incidentally, I had some luck using this procedure to regain access to a Lenovo
IdeaPad 100-151BD 80QQ's UEFI Firmware Configurator after I had set my boot mode
to Legacy Support before installing Ubuntu, which locked me out of the config:
    1. At GRUB operating system selection screen key 'c' for a command line.
    2. normal_exit
    3. initrd
    (initrd fails because you didn't load the kernel, but then Windows Boot
     Manager tries to load in UEFI mode for some reason & presents a screen
     politely offering to give you the FW Config if you give it the ESC key,
     which it doesn't usually when your boot mode is Legacy Support instead
     of UEFI with or without secure boot.)
I ought note: Ubuntu 16 boots the configurator automagically in UEFI boot mode:
the option reappeared when I `sudo update-grub`ed while in UEFI mode.

Speaking of GRUB, here's a boot procedure (in case you've never driven stick):
    1. root=hd0,gpt8
       (Linux is at sda8 on my system)
    2. linux /vmlinuz
    3. initrd /initrd.img
    4. boot
Or, to shift gears into Windows:
    1. root=hd0,gpt1
    2. chainloader /EFI/Microsoft/Boot/bootmgfw.efi
    3. boot

While I'm on the topic, here's how to play a tune at boot time using GRUB:
    A.1. @ boot menu (operating system selection), key 'c' for a GRUB shell.
    A.2. play TEMPO PITCH1 DURATION1 PITCH2 DURATION2 P3 D3 ... ad infinitum
         Pitches are frequencies in Hertz; duration is a fraction of tempo.
or
    B.1. In Ubuntu, Control + Alt + T to open a terminal emulator window.
    B.2. sudo gedit /etc/default/grub
    B.3. Feed the recordable piano by editing the line at the bottom:
         GRUB_INIT_TUNE="325 900 6 1000 1 900 2 800 2 750 2 800 1 900 2 600
5 0 1 500 1 600 1 800 1 750 2 600 2 675 2 750 4"
         # ^- The Amazing Water (NiGHTS)
         GRUB_INIT_TUNE="1024 600 2 650 2 700 2 950 10 900 20 0 10 600 2 650
2 700 2 950 20 1050 10 1100 5"
         # ^- Batman, the Animated Series.
         GRUB_INIT_TUNE="2048 600 5 0 1 600 5 0 1 575 5 0 1 575 5 0 1 550 5
0 1 550 5 0 1 575 5 0 1 575 5 0 1 600 5 0 1 600 5 0 1 575 5 0 1 575 5 0 1
550 5 0 1 550 5 0 1 575 5 0 1 575 5 0 1 900 8 0 4 900 24"
         # ^- classic Batman.
    B.4. Save the file, and then sudo update-grub && sudo reboot
Musical notes within the 500-1500 Hz range tend to be within 100Hz of each other
(therefore ± 50 Hz for flats & sharps) typically, but act strange around 600 Hz.



GNU/Linux is dandy for computer programming, especially data processing, because
it is now (thanks to Ubuntu) easier to use than ever; but it changes so quickly
that I've barely skimmed over the repository before the next long-term support
version has been finalized. The installer wizard also sometimes makes mistakes.
The software repository is slowly morphing into a dime-store, any software worth
using requires considerable technical expertise cultivated @ your great expense,
and if anything breaks then you have to be the fastest teletype gun in the west.

And, because my comments re: Linux may mislead, I'm thrilled about Windows 10.
Have you played Microsoft Flight Simulator recently? Great game.

Yarredux!

(Here be an update, as of November 8th, 2016. Me old war wound be actin’ up too much, and I think these’ll be the last for some time.

http://www.mediafire.com/file/ib2ezsch9jfz2te/mlptk-2016-11-08.zip

http://www.mediafire.com/file/n5pvhc8snk7nkcn/mlptk-src-hilite-2016-11-08.zip

http://www.mediafire.com/file/afkkza6ywlfrc75/mlptk-book-2016-11-08.zip

)

Ahoy, mateys. Today be the nineteenth of September — ye’d be better knowin’ it as International Talk Like A Pirate Day — and I’ll wager that upon this fine occasion ye’d be askin’ yerselves: “where’s me booty? ”

Well, and I’d make a poor excuse for a captain if I couldn’t deliver ye at least that! (But avast: ye might be findin’ it somewhat unholy, and parental discretion be even more advisable than in previous revisions.) I have prepared for ye a fine trove o’ source code, the likes of which are fit for Kings. Although me mother be the only one likely to find it interestin’, I’ve also put the finishin’ touches on me preliminary sketch of a typesetter for me book: “Yawnie’s Whole: the Complete Yawnie, for the Yawnie Enthusiast.” These be available in three chests, or what ye might be callin’ “Zip Arr-chives,” which I be uploadin’ to Mediafire as per usual.

Me latest revision of MLPTK be here…
http://www.mediafire.com/download/t93x0txsfvgp2pz/mlptk-2016-09-19.zip
… and be comprisin’ not much different from the last MLPTK, again as usual, except that I were fixin’ bugs. I report with most contrition that Polyfac be a failure: I be tryin’ to return me attention to the other tasks I failed to complete this year.

If ye prefer to be tastin’ th’ rainbow, a set of syntax-highlighted HTML documents illustratin’ the source code be here…
http://www.mediafire.com/download/o3cz1rghyp6j5h4/mlptk-src-hilite-2016-09-19.zip
… they scry as nearly as possible alike to me own development environment.

Would ye like me book? I be certain to update and revise it as time be passin’, but who knows if me accounts shan’t be commandeered in the interstice? If ye be at all interested, don’t hesitate: supplies be unlimited, but tempus fugit…
http://www.mediafire.com/download/xv3h8xdslbscwc9/mlptk-book-2016-09-19.zip
… and, someday, me literature be gone forever, as literature inevitably shall.

And there be little more to say about this revision, as I’ve prepared no new lectures since April.

In the meantime, have ye noticed how beautiful life can be sometimes? Quite apart from th’ hardship and pain, there be especial bounty of resources. If ye be readin’ this, then ye would be privileged to Internet access, which are a rare treasure: there be all sorts o’ literature & art to be found, plenty of amusin’ diversions, and certainly no shortage of comely wenches to descry.

Me meaning be: ye could probably spend yer whole lives havin’ not a thing but a netbook computer, occasional access to electrical power, and some sort o’ shelter to protect ye from the elements. A “sex tent,” if ye will: just be addin’ some wenches. Why, I can imagine that no few individuals upon this blasted globe could be livin’ their lives contented with a shelter and a wench — wenches of the world bein’ blessed not to be needin’ anywench else.

Childhood be another of those times. As I grew, I were witness to what some would be describin’ as the “Wild West” of the World Wide Web. Nearly every outlet of popular culture were findin’ its way into troves and hoardes shared worldwide by generous scoundrels (and belligerent litigious bilge rats) to an audience of hundreds of millions. The vast serpent of DHTML and jQuery had only just been sighted far afore, and the stars fated to portend swashbucklin’ adventure at every second of the compass.

There was, too, a massive population of reputable sailors upon the vast waters of cyberspace. I remember some of the finest: OverClocked ReMix, VGMusic. Angelfire, Tripod, and Geocities. Neopets. The Merchant Guild. 4chan. So many more motes be floatin’ in the eye of history that I cannot even recount. Ah, the world were bigger then, and me eyes wide in childlike wonder.

Well, and it were the best of times, but me swashbucklin’ days be sadly behind me. (Arr, insofar as I cannot swash without me bucks! Besides that, me galleon be in disrepair, and overhaul be veritably a tribulation. However, as usual, be sendin’ me no money, for I cannot guarantee that it shall ever arrive; nor could I be certain it would help if it did.) As it happened, although I were studyin’ me life’s work throughout me life, me attention were turnin’ too late to serious programmin’ (peradventure, alas!), and circumstances be such that I envision failure to accomplish writing the parts of me portfolio I’d intended to finish this year.

(Happily I were not askin’ for research grants, considerin’ me doldrums.)

I be in pain; and, in light of this, tried to pass along what few ideas I were able to sustain the concentration to write before I be entirely unable to do so. They be in me ephemerides, toward page 950.

The spring be another of those times when life be less painful than it’s usually. I tell ye there be nothing like the sensation of warm sunlight on yer skin for the first time in months. Which are even assumin’ ye survived th’ winter — in the frigid North, for example, ye might be a popsicle if ye aren’t careful.

And let’s be not forgettin’ lemons…

Ah, but me ramblin’ be more piteous than a scurvy dog.

Enjoy me work.

 

AVAST, MATEYS!

Here be a ninja update fer th’ new year, 2017.

Ever wanted t’ shred data? Here be a tip:

dd -if /dev/random -of /dev/sda

will shred your ENTIRE HARD DISK /dev/sda irreversibly.

The file system be destroyed the instant you hit enter. There be no confirmation.

Shred it all night long, then when ye wake in the mornin’ do this before work:

dd -if /dev/urandom -of /dev/sda

to drop a load on yer disk that be heavier’n fifteen spars on a dead man’s chest.

Seriously. This be how to erase yer disks so thoroughly even the C.I.A. shall never espy yer dirty secrets.

Sleep tight, mateys.

A Midsummer Report.

Here are some updates on my progress:

https://www.mediafire.com/?zcc0pq81u001k4w (or http://www.mediafire.com/download/zcc0pq81u001k4w/mlptk-2016aug12.zip )

^- This one contains a snapshot of my MLPTK directory as of last night shortly before I endured my nightly battle with pain that keeps me awake. It’s a couple’a megs (zipped) or about three megabytes (inflated). Download this if you only want the MLPTK software and reference materials.

 

https://www.mediafire.com/?3lxoqrocmmm5byc ( or http://www.mediafire.com/download/3lxoqrocmmm5byc/mlptk-report-2016-08-12.zip )

^- This one contains a tasty treat! I have rewritten my automatic typesetter for today’s report, and there are now available some syntax highlighted HTML documents that make the code very much easier to read. There are some cute PDFs, too, for printing. DocBook was a very convenient format to get started with, but I hope with future revisions I will graduate from the training wheels and learn to use LaTeX / PostScript. The report is about thirty megabytes (zipped) or fifty megabytes (inflated). Download this if you would like to preserve my work in “Dead Tree” format. (Yes, I’m pretty sure that all the PDFs with my name on them are actually my own work, thus the “Author” bit in the typesetter. I deleted all the PDFs that I identified as not being my own work. Yes, it will require over four hundred pages if you print it. No, I’m not done writing.)

 

I have been working on MLPTK, and other projects, but have nothing of any value to report. Sadly, I stalled-out on QL and everything, and I don’t think I can publish anything complete in 2016 as I had hoped.

However, I _have_ made a good run at finishing every part of QL that I set out to write last Christmas. Also, I have run a quick test on the Firefox bundled with a recent version of Lubuntu: ironically, the _horrendous QL speed bug_ has no perceptible effect on execution time in that version! (I’m still going to try and fix it, though, because my development machine is still on the elder version.)

Apart from crashing and burning with QL, I have begun a new C++ project called Sparkster (after the name of the titular protagonist of Rocket Knight Adventures) which will be a simple exercise in simulating kinetics; I still haven’t started YawniePong 2 because I need to begin a three dimensional rendering library for Javascript if I want to make it into Return to Thunderdome; and I have written a new module for MLPTK, based on Polynom, called Polyfac — although it is practically useless.

Since the last revision I have also written a few other modules, and fixed sundry bugs. See the history log for more details.

 

P.S. The header image easter-egg has also changed. Again.

Pie Jesu domine, dona eis requiem.

Breaking news: according to Shape magazine (March, 2016; volume 35, no. 6), which incorporates Fitness magazine, forty winks shouldn’t be.

Mirel Ketchiff writes: “enlightening new research is challenging [the notion, suggested by the National Sleep Foundation, that we need eight hours of sleep every night].” This enlightening new research indicates that prehistoric cavemen slept six and a half hours each night (possibly because they couldn’t get to sleep while the stalactites dripped on their heads); how anthropologists learnt the crepuscular habits of people who existed before the advent of recorded history is, evidently, left as an exercise to the reader.

Exactly how much sleep does anyone need, anyway? Someone once told me that children need about ten hours a night. Then the National Sleep Foundation told me that adolescents and adults require about eight. Now Shape magazine says I need six and a half. What’ll it be next; maybe I don’t need any sleep at all! Methamphetamine addicts have been known not to sleep for extended periods of time, and to become fashionably slender no matter how gluttonous their eating habits. Perhaps that is fitness, Fitness?

Soon we can all abandon our outmoded, unfashionable and inefficient nightly nonce of unconsciousness. Ascending from our benighted evolution, we’ll first return to our prehistoric habits (as though we ought ever to have abandoned them in the first place), and then do away with sleep altogether. Employing methamphetamine and a thousand other compounds we’re taught in school are bad for our bodies and minds, we’ll become Übermensch — harder, better, faster, and stronger than those other Nation-Brands.

Now unencumbered by our need to rest our minds each night so that we can demarcate the border line of fantasy and reality (and, vicariously, of right and wrong), and and thoroughly brain-damaged as a result, we’ll spring forward into a new age of crime, misconduct, and rampant procreation.

Promiscuity is a citizen’s duty.

The Orthopterous Prayer

Photo Orthoptertunity.

orthopterous_prayer
The above image is my work, created with art provided by the Open Clipart
library from the Ubuntu Universe/Graphics repository. Transcription:
"OUR FATHER WHO ART IN HEAVEN HALLOWED BE THY NAME THY KINGDOM COME THY WILL
 BE DONE ON EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN AND BY THE WAY WOULD YOU MIND DOING
 SOMETHING ABOUT THIS BIRD IT IS CIRCLING ABOVE ME IN A MOST UNSETTLING MANNER
 THANKS DAD LOVE YOU!"


But this entry is really a remonstrance I should have delivered to the city
of Potlatch a very long time ago. Sorry I'm late. Excerpted from my memoir:

I graduated PHS as Valedictorian, classis 2006; recalling my hatred of a people
who ostracised me, I skipped the ceremony. They weren't missing much, because I
had been instructed to prepare a state-approved recommencement address.

Regarding that address: when I was informed of my valedictory nomination, I was
asked to prepare a short speech; except, in approximately the words of Gordon
Steinbis (principal), "we'll terminate your microphone feed if you say anything
bad about Potlatch High School [...] and don't mention assisted suicide." Well,
after that, there isn't much to say; why speak? So were my thoughts at the time
and they still are. Had I been permitted to speak freely, I would have run along
these lines: "We are predestined; I to failure. You have abused me my whole life
and simultaneously demanded I seek joy in living where none was to be found. I
have advocated since my youth for the humane practice of assisted suicide, and
you have not listened because you are deluded. I cannot say that I plan to kill
myself, because citizens of the United States of America who speak freely in
that regard are imprisoned without trial. Goodbye." Naturally, I'm writing this
at age 29 -- ten years ago, I wouldn't have been so parsimonious of phrase --
but my thoughts (when I am permitted to think by those who wield the weapon) are
certainly of the same nature as they were, only more so.