Right, then. I'm no big HP fan, and I don't think I'd start that soon. But anyway, my friends do call me out to watch those things, so I guess that means I'm gona have to write a review on it.
Frankly, I don't think this was a particularly good HP installment. I mean, I generally expect magic duels and special effects in the show, and well...whatever they had in there just wasn't quite satisfying. Yes, Dumbledore dies. Everyone knows that. It does feel odd watching a show that every other mother's kid knows the ending to. Sorta like everyone's already spoiled. I just didn't like the idea of Dumbledore tipping over quite that easily after he managed to do a Gandalf and wipe out a whole swarm of undeads.
Ultimately, the thing I liked the most about the HP series is that it's gotten darker over time. Undoubtedly, it's not just an effect of growing up for the characters, but also an influence of our contemporary world situation leaking into the story. Bag searches, anyone?
I'd have to give this one a 6.5/10. It's not particularly memorable, and as one reviewer put it...pretty much here only to set the stage for the story ahead.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
The barber who shaved
I encountered this paradox online: “There is a village where the barber shaves all those and only those who do not shave themselves. Who shaves the barber?”
Now, at face value, the paradox does indeed appear to be paradoxical. That is, we’d assume that the barber is a part of the village, and is therefore referenced as part of the villagers who either shave themselves, or the villagers who don’t. Obviously, if the barber is a villager, is himself, hasn’t shaved himself, and has no one to shave him, he will be unable to shave himself without violating the statement.
Yet there are a number of assumptions already in place. Moreover, it is not mentioned whether the statement is true across all time frames. The simplest solution would be that the barber simply shaves himself. Why? Because at the point of time at which the statement was made, the statement was true: he only shaves those who don’t shave themselves. However, since he’s a part of the group of non-self shavers, he’s obliged to shave himself, therefore violating the statement. Thereafter, the statement ceases to be true. QED.
Then we can consider that, perhaps, the barber wasn’t in the group of people who either shave or do not shave themselves. This can be true if:
1) The barber isn’t himself. He’s a RED spy.
2) We consider the barber to be outside the village (and therefore beyond those groups
3) We consider the barber (vocation) to be separate from barber (the person)
4) We consider that someone else is shaving the barber.
If 1 is true, we’d have to spycheck him, just in case.
If 2 is true, we’re assuming that both groups are from the village. Hence, he may not be a part of either group, enabling him to shave himself without violating the statement.
If 3 is true, he can also shave himself without violating the statement, since the vocation of barber is separate from the person of the barber.
If 4 is true, well, that greatly simplifies things, doesn’t it?
Now, at face value, the paradox does indeed appear to be paradoxical. That is, we’d assume that the barber is a part of the village, and is therefore referenced as part of the villagers who either shave themselves, or the villagers who don’t. Obviously, if the barber is a villager, is himself, hasn’t shaved himself, and has no one to shave him, he will be unable to shave himself without violating the statement.
Yet there are a number of assumptions already in place. Moreover, it is not mentioned whether the statement is true across all time frames. The simplest solution would be that the barber simply shaves himself. Why? Because at the point of time at which the statement was made, the statement was true: he only shaves those who don’t shave themselves. However, since he’s a part of the group of non-self shavers, he’s obliged to shave himself, therefore violating the statement. Thereafter, the statement ceases to be true. QED.
Then we can consider that, perhaps, the barber wasn’t in the group of people who either shave or do not shave themselves. This can be true if:
1) The barber isn’t himself. He’s a RED spy.
2) We consider the barber to be outside the village (and therefore beyond those groups
3) We consider the barber (vocation) to be separate from barber (the person)
4) We consider that someone else is shaving the barber.
If 1 is true, we’d have to spycheck him, just in case.
If 2 is true, we’re assuming that both groups are from the village. Hence, he may not be a part of either group, enabling him to shave himself without violating the statement.
If 3 is true, he can also shave himself without violating the statement, since the vocation of barber is separate from the person of the barber.
If 4 is true, well, that greatly simplifies things, doesn’t it?
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Why Can't You?
It's funny how egoistic people can be. Whatever they wish to present as their social front, it seems that at their heart of hearts, just about everyone (with the usual bell curve exceptions) is self-centered. Now let's consider a common expression: If I can do (insert activity), why can't you? If that doesn't sound self-centered, I don't know what does.
Basically, saying something like that assumes that everyone should be essentially the same as the speaker, since the speaker's perfectly capable of doing something and thus everyone else ought to. Not...necessarily true. For example, I can't reasonably ask a blind person to just see...simply because I can, right? And just 'coz I can and want to, I can't rightly ask others to do the same because they might not share my sentiments.
What does that leave us, though? The admission of hypocrisy in projecting the public face? Or is it the self-centered nature of people blinding them to the possibility of alternatives...
Basically, saying something like that assumes that everyone should be essentially the same as the speaker, since the speaker's perfectly capable of doing something and thus everyone else ought to. Not...necessarily true. For example, I can't reasonably ask a blind person to just see...simply because I can, right? And just 'coz I can and want to, I can't rightly ask others to do the same because they might not share my sentiments.
What does that leave us, though? The admission of hypocrisy in projecting the public face? Or is it the self-centered nature of people blinding them to the possibility of alternatives...
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Printer Calibration
I finally got down to calibrating my new Epson T50 printer. It's a typically tedious business, getting the output to match precisely (or as close as is practical for precision adjusted by Eyeball Mk. 1) what my monitor displays. After 5 max quality prints, I finally managed to squeeze out something that looked pretty much how the picture was displayed on my monitor. *Happy happy*
That might sound a bit anal, but frankly I'm never happy seeing something come out of my printer that doesn't look almost exactly like how I've seen it. I mean, it's bad enough that my jpgs will invariably look different on someone else's monitors. Since the print is the true litmus test of a properly exposed image, that's something I really can't live with.
Anyway, now that my printer's finally doing precisely what I want it to, it's time to get down to doing my actual photowall project. Yep. A wall...covered in photos. That oughtta keep me occupied for awhile.
That might sound a bit anal, but frankly I'm never happy seeing something come out of my printer that doesn't look almost exactly like how I've seen it. I mean, it's bad enough that my jpgs will invariably look different on someone else's monitors. Since the print is the true litmus test of a properly exposed image, that's something I really can't live with.
Anyway, now that my printer's finally doing precisely what I want it to, it's time to get down to doing my actual photowall project. Yep. A wall...covered in photos. That oughtta keep me occupied for awhile.
Monday, July 06, 2009
Hell Is Symptomatic Of Mental Illness
I am greatly disturbed by the prospect of an eternal hell. Indeed, I have no wish to visit such a place, if it did in fact exist. Such a proposition does not sound terribly welcoming, what with all the fire and brimstone and sodomic demons with pitchforks.
However, I think it is a suspicious notion, especially one used in the context of God. Let's recap the assumptions: God is good and merciful, judgmental, perfect and all-knowing. Also bears rank of supreme creator. Sounds good so far. So that means, by creating humans, there was full knowledge of what'd become of them. Ergo, it's probably a given that some of God's creations will wind up in an eternal hell. Nasty.
But wait...there is a contradiction somewhere. If God were indeed good and merciful, nobody would end up in hell for eternity, because even those who fall short of acceptable standards of goodness would be forgiven eventually. But if it were eternal, it's very much akin to creating something knowing that the creation will not be very good at all, then repeatedly damaging the creation in sheer angst. That...does not sound very much like a perfect God. In fact, it implies that God is grossly inefficient, sadistic, insane, or a combination of the three. Why...that's blasphemy!
Being quite unwilling to be a blasphemer, I would have to choose between disbelieving in God, and disbelieving in an eternal hell. Now, both can be quite incredible, but I think the latter is by far more incredible. If I had to choose between the two, I'd say that an eternal hell simply does not exist, given the assumptions people make about God.
However, I think it is a suspicious notion, especially one used in the context of God. Let's recap the assumptions: God is good and merciful, judgmental, perfect and all-knowing. Also bears rank of supreme creator. Sounds good so far. So that means, by creating humans, there was full knowledge of what'd become of them. Ergo, it's probably a given that some of God's creations will wind up in an eternal hell. Nasty.
But wait...there is a contradiction somewhere. If God were indeed good and merciful, nobody would end up in hell for eternity, because even those who fall short of acceptable standards of goodness would be forgiven eventually. But if it were eternal, it's very much akin to creating something knowing that the creation will not be very good at all, then repeatedly damaging the creation in sheer angst. That...does not sound very much like a perfect God. In fact, it implies that God is grossly inefficient, sadistic, insane, or a combination of the three. Why...that's blasphemy!
Being quite unwilling to be a blasphemer, I would have to choose between disbelieving in God, and disbelieving in an eternal hell. Now, both can be quite incredible, but I think the latter is by far more incredible. If I had to choose between the two, I'd say that an eternal hell simply does not exist, given the assumptions people make about God.
Sunday, July 05, 2009
The Soul...?
There are times when I wonder if there's a sort of explanation for what, exactly, a soul is. The soul in the sense that spiritual people believe in, the thing that supposedly animates the conscious and sets them apart from the unconscious. In fact, I think the soul is separate from life in that the soul is effectively a form of consciousness rather than life itself, which seems to be little more than a set of ongoing chemical processes. Not quite the cultural perception of a place that has a vibrant, appealing way of life, though perhaps it is related.
If I were to consider what a soul is, I'd think that since the belief is that they're unique things that live on after the living creature's untimely demise, I'd think that it was a sort of energetic equilibrium that is established by the peculiar and unique material makeup of the physical form. While this is probably impossible, that'd mean that a soul living on after the body has died has somehow managed to hold those energies in equilibrium even after separation from the physical form.
The loss of equilibrium (leading to the "death" of the soul) or a detachment from the point of anchorage will result in the physical form losing its soul, and thus might be to all appearances alive but not quite "whole".
If I were to consider what a soul is, I'd think that since the belief is that they're unique things that live on after the living creature's untimely demise, I'd think that it was a sort of energetic equilibrium that is established by the peculiar and unique material makeup of the physical form. While this is probably impossible, that'd mean that a soul living on after the body has died has somehow managed to hold those energies in equilibrium even after separation from the physical form.
The loss of equilibrium (leading to the "death" of the soul) or a detachment from the point of anchorage will result in the physical form losing its soul, and thus might be to all appearances alive but not quite "whole".
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Burkas Are Freedom
It is an apt day to talk about freedom. Yet freedom can come in strange forms. In fact, freedom can even be found where others see only oppression. What better symbol of female oppression than the burka. A form-hiding outfit that covers just about everything (even the eyes), the burka seems to be about as oppressive as they come.
Yet the burka itself represents only an overt form of oppression. It is far easier to see the overt than the subtle. Take for example the oppression of capitalism. The standards of beauty. The burka, ironically, can represent a sort of emancipation from these. The burka is anonymous. Nobody really cares (or can actually tell) if you're wearing nothing inside. Now that's freedom from fashion, from people judging just how skimpy (or prudish) your outfit happens to be. It's freedom from the chains of capitalism that urge people to buy more outfits they don't really need. It's freedom from the judgment of the form one has that never ever seems to match the unrealistic standards set by the fashion world. It frees one from the oppressive need to pick, match and coordinate outfits from a wardrobe full of clothes that one might never wear. (I'm sure we all know this one =p) The irony of choice is that sometimes it means we're denied the choice not to make a choice. Surely nobody would wish to see me decked out in some truly awful colors on poorly fitted outfits. Yet if I genuinely wanted to do that, I find the choice is less than desirable, considering that I don't like to be ridiculed overly much...
It is even the freedom from the prying eyes of men who would gladly oogle women who may be less than happy about being oogled. Imagine the time and brain power savings for men, when they spend less time thinking about sex and more towards productive thoughts or even other non-sexual forms of entertainment. Certainly, no bicycles will crash when a burka-wearing geisha looks at a man. Hell, it even serves as an umbrella, in keeping one exotically pale skinned under the harsh light of day. Brollies are just so victorian.
Then comes the harmony. No, not the enforced harmony of highly regulated societies, but the peace of anonymity. Yup, even men would benefit from wearing burkas. Not only is gender masked by these fine outfits, one's unique appearance is masked as well. That means poor sods getting trounced by street toughs by mistake will no longer face those problems: The toughs would have a hard time spotting the fella from a distance. Besides, men can finally be excused for being utterly unfashionable.
With all these benefits, the burka seems like the perfect universal outfit for everyone. Making women wear these might be oppressive, but everyone wearing it would be...consensus. Yes, freedom can come in strange forms. Oh, and happy Independence Day, one and all =p
Yet the burka itself represents only an overt form of oppression. It is far easier to see the overt than the subtle. Take for example the oppression of capitalism. The standards of beauty. The burka, ironically, can represent a sort of emancipation from these. The burka is anonymous. Nobody really cares (or can actually tell) if you're wearing nothing inside. Now that's freedom from fashion, from people judging just how skimpy (or prudish) your outfit happens to be. It's freedom from the chains of capitalism that urge people to buy more outfits they don't really need. It's freedom from the judgment of the form one has that never ever seems to match the unrealistic standards set by the fashion world. It frees one from the oppressive need to pick, match and coordinate outfits from a wardrobe full of clothes that one might never wear. (I'm sure we all know this one =p) The irony of choice is that sometimes it means we're denied the choice not to make a choice. Surely nobody would wish to see me decked out in some truly awful colors on poorly fitted outfits. Yet if I genuinely wanted to do that, I find the choice is less than desirable, considering that I don't like to be ridiculed overly much...
It is even the freedom from the prying eyes of men who would gladly oogle women who may be less than happy about being oogled. Imagine the time and brain power savings for men, when they spend less time thinking about sex and more towards productive thoughts or even other non-sexual forms of entertainment. Certainly, no bicycles will crash when a burka-wearing geisha looks at a man. Hell, it even serves as an umbrella, in keeping one exotically pale skinned under the harsh light of day. Brollies are just so victorian.
Then comes the harmony. No, not the enforced harmony of highly regulated societies, but the peace of anonymity. Yup, even men would benefit from wearing burkas. Not only is gender masked by these fine outfits, one's unique appearance is masked as well. That means poor sods getting trounced by street toughs by mistake will no longer face those problems: The toughs would have a hard time spotting the fella from a distance. Besides, men can finally be excused for being utterly unfashionable.
With all these benefits, the burka seems like the perfect universal outfit for everyone. Making women wear these might be oppressive, but everyone wearing it would be...consensus. Yes, freedom can come in strange forms. Oh, and happy Independence Day, one and all =p
Monday, June 29, 2009
Growing
Hopefully, everyone grows over time, in various ways. However, the most important thing about growing is knowing when growth occurs, and if it is in the right direction. The basis of comparison is between past and present, so I guess records play a huge part in making that happen.
Unfortunately, memory is a rather faulty medium of record taking. There's a tendency towards omissions and embellishments. If the memory isn't faded at the time of recollection, it's probably inaccurate anyway.
For my shooting, I guess what I do appreciate is my own tendency not to throw things out. Especially digital things. Not necessarily a good habit, but handy in this instance. I remember (with my faulty memory, of course) the first photography lessons I took, and how I talked about the photography greats back then as if it were a new discovery.
At that time, I dare say my shots were...well...crap. They still are now, but they're crap mk ii. Yet the only way I could've known that for sure was to actually grab the old ones, laugh at them, then laugh at the current ones...only a little less loudly. Sometimes louder, in fact, if they turned out worse than the ones I took a couple years back.
I guess what's true about shooting is basically what McCurry said about his own shooting: It's basically 1 great shot in 1000 others. I used to believe that the great masters made a masterpiece in every shot they took. But after hearing accounts from other people in the business, it's really a matter of a whole load of effort, with the experience and skill to back up those attempts. Probably some luck, too.
Still, I think that's where the difference between an accomplished and a novice shooter will lie: The accomplished shooter will fire 30'000 shots in order to get the scoop. The novice will fire 30'000 and still not get it. Maybe one day I'll find my way out of n00b'land. One day.
Unfortunately, memory is a rather faulty medium of record taking. There's a tendency towards omissions and embellishments. If the memory isn't faded at the time of recollection, it's probably inaccurate anyway.
For my shooting, I guess what I do appreciate is my own tendency not to throw things out. Especially digital things. Not necessarily a good habit, but handy in this instance. I remember (with my faulty memory, of course) the first photography lessons I took, and how I talked about the photography greats back then as if it were a new discovery.
At that time, I dare say my shots were...well...crap. They still are now, but they're crap mk ii. Yet the only way I could've known that for sure was to actually grab the old ones, laugh at them, then laugh at the current ones...only a little less loudly. Sometimes louder, in fact, if they turned out worse than the ones I took a couple years back.
I guess what's true about shooting is basically what McCurry said about his own shooting: It's basically 1 great shot in 1000 others. I used to believe that the great masters made a masterpiece in every shot they took. But after hearing accounts from other people in the business, it's really a matter of a whole load of effort, with the experience and skill to back up those attempts. Probably some luck, too.
Still, I think that's where the difference between an accomplished and a novice shooter will lie: The accomplished shooter will fire 30'000 shots in order to get the scoop. The novice will fire 30'000 and still not get it. Maybe one day I'll find my way out of n00b'land. One day.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
The Nature Of Mortality
Mortality is a most curious thing. It's a big pile of steaming denial. People are born only to die, after all. That's the lot of mortals. Yet when I was informed that my friend finally managed to take herself out today, the revelation just got me meditating on mortality.
She never really died. The thing is, though I couldn't really feel her in the mortal realm for some time, I never did manage to trust the more subtle senses. But she only managed to die today, just about 2 months after she bought the farm. Screw the euphemisms. She died. And successfully, this time.
Yet ultimately, tragic or no, the death of a human is just an inevitability turned reality. It's the knowledge of death proper that brings closure to a doomed life anyway. Farrah Fawcett died. Michael Jackson died. It's pretty fashionable for mortal beings, after all. But then many still feel the unusual oh it's so surprising that so and so was alive yesterday, and dead today.
What fascinates me is that my friend basically became a Schrodinger's cat for awhile, being neither dead nor alive in my cognition due to ignorance (I did think her dead, but didn't manage to verify that), until the moment of closure came and I was like ah! so it's true. To be sure, I never really did have much faith in her survivability given her worsening mental state, but I guess death does interesting things to one's psyche. For one, I think she's basically experienced a net improvement in her mental state, if it still exists. Since I don't sincerely believe in a hell for humans (not permanently anyway) and the Christian assurance of heaven (though quite pretty creepy to me), I think she's better off regardless the actual presence of an afterlife. Nonetheless I do say: Rest in peace, eh? Oh, and I think one of my CDs is still at your place.
P.S. Fawcett has great taste in cameras. She was handling an E1 with an FL-50. Mmmm...
She never really died. The thing is, though I couldn't really feel her in the mortal realm for some time, I never did manage to trust the more subtle senses. But she only managed to die today, just about 2 months after she bought the farm. Screw the euphemisms. She died. And successfully, this time.
Yet ultimately, tragic or no, the death of a human is just an inevitability turned reality. It's the knowledge of death proper that brings closure to a doomed life anyway. Farrah Fawcett died. Michael Jackson died. It's pretty fashionable for mortal beings, after all. But then many still feel the unusual oh it's so surprising that so and so was alive yesterday, and dead today.
What fascinates me is that my friend basically became a Schrodinger's cat for awhile, being neither dead nor alive in my cognition due to ignorance (I did think her dead, but didn't manage to verify that), until the moment of closure came and I was like ah! so it's true. To be sure, I never really did have much faith in her survivability given her worsening mental state, but I guess death does interesting things to one's psyche. For one, I think she's basically experienced a net improvement in her mental state, if it still exists. Since I don't sincerely believe in a hell for humans (not permanently anyway) and the Christian assurance of heaven (though quite pretty creepy to me), I think she's better off regardless the actual presence of an afterlife. Nonetheless I do say: Rest in peace, eh? Oh, and I think one of my CDs is still at your place.
P.S. Fawcett has great taste in cameras. She was handling an E1 with an FL-50. Mmmm...
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Blade: The Series
I like vampire stories for some odd reason. They're...fascinating. But nobody should mistake Blade for a vampire story. I just enjoy it as a soap of sorts. Basically, the series is a whole bunch of blood/fang porn and has a most amusing Assassin's Creed logic.
One funny thing about these pop vampire thingummies is that the narratives are basically excuses to bare fang, drink blood and maybe fight a little while they're at it. Admittedly, I do like a good cultural show, and Blade has some cheesy culture in it. Not quite classy or realistic, and chock full of continuity errors, but I guess I grow attached to such things, if only to see where they go.
Mmm...but the Assassin's Creed logic never fails to tickle me. Just as Altair somehow manages to go around unnoticed while bristling with weapons, Blade can walk around looking like a silver-decked vampire slayer with a katana on his back, and nobody bats an eyelid. Seriously. He can clomp through a hospital with his trenchcoat and boots, then draw a gun and nobody ever seems to notice. Nobody ever calls the cops on the heavily armed fella marching down their corridors. Admittedly, the only ones who ever seem to notice are the baddies.
Now, I know vampires are able to use glamors or other ways to influence the human mind, but that does not seem to be the kind of thing for Blade vampires. They're mostly the highly physical sort that prefer to go at it with fists, blades and guns, often in that order. Interestingly enough, that Assassin's Creed logic never seems to be explained. I can only assume that the assassin gains special benefits just for being an assassin: Nobody ever notices that you've got a shitload of weapons all over you. =p
One funny thing about these pop vampire thingummies is that the narratives are basically excuses to bare fang, drink blood and maybe fight a little while they're at it. Admittedly, I do like a good cultural show, and Blade has some cheesy culture in it. Not quite classy or realistic, and chock full of continuity errors, but I guess I grow attached to such things, if only to see where they go.
Mmm...but the Assassin's Creed logic never fails to tickle me. Just as Altair somehow manages to go around unnoticed while bristling with weapons, Blade can walk around looking like a silver-decked vampire slayer with a katana on his back, and nobody bats an eyelid. Seriously. He can clomp through a hospital with his trenchcoat and boots, then draw a gun and nobody ever seems to notice. Nobody ever calls the cops on the heavily armed fella marching down their corridors. Admittedly, the only ones who ever seem to notice are the baddies.
Now, I know vampires are able to use glamors or other ways to influence the human mind, but that does not seem to be the kind of thing for Blade vampires. They're mostly the highly physical sort that prefer to go at it with fists, blades and guns, often in that order. Interestingly enough, that Assassin's Creed logic never seems to be explained. I can only assume that the assassin gains special benefits just for being an assassin: Nobody ever notices that you've got a shitload of weapons all over you. =p
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Being Value-Free
I like to think of myself as value-free, of being quite logical in thinking. Yet I realize that it is quite impossible to be value-free in the first place. Even the being value-free is a value in itself. Among others, I also believe in personal freedom (within rather liberal limits) and individuality.
With the guidance of those values, I am really quite incapable of value-free thought. The best I can do, perhaps, is to be quite relativistic and arbitrary, which would pretty much piss off anyone who believes that people should be consistent.
That would also be a problem in doing analyses, and perhaps the best thing I could do would be to state my stand early on, and perhaps list the values amongst the limitations to make it clear that I have not actually made a value-free judgment. Then again, that would beg the question of whether it is in fact possible to be truly value-free, and if there was actually any benefit to being so.
With the guidance of those values, I am really quite incapable of value-free thought. The best I can do, perhaps, is to be quite relativistic and arbitrary, which would pretty much piss off anyone who believes that people should be consistent.
That would also be a problem in doing analyses, and perhaps the best thing I could do would be to state my stand early on, and perhaps list the values amongst the limitations to make it clear that I have not actually made a value-free judgment. Then again, that would beg the question of whether it is in fact possible to be truly value-free, and if there was actually any benefit to being so.
Monday, June 22, 2009
The Centurion
My new system was fitted into a Coolermaster Centurion casing, which I promptly assumed to be a primarily showy piece that's quite impractical to take down and clean out with any sort of frequency. Well, I'm glad that I was dead wrong about that.
I had to take it apart to give my ram another upgrade, and then I noticed the metal plates blocking the drive bays. Now, all casings have some form of these: The thin plates that must be pulled out in order to fit new drives in. Unfortunately, try as I might, I really couldn't remove them. Obviously, I had to take the pesky front panel out, and I had no clue as to how I would go about doing that. The front panel appeared to be fixed in place with plastic split knobs, and no visible screws. I assumed that the knobs were a PITA to deal with. The wires were running out of it and I was loathe to have them come out.
Then I tried tugging on the front panel. It gave slightly, so I tugged a bit harder to see how I would remove it. Then the entire panel came out in my hand. The first thing I noticed was the elegance of the design, since the wired parts were actually set into a separate panel. That meant that I could easily take the casing apart to remove the grills and free up the drive bays, and to remove those pesky metal plates which were interfering with my airflow.
After successfully removing the plates, I noted that the airflow was significantly improved. For one, the entire front panel is now a completely freed intake. Frankly, I don't know why the early casings weren't designed this way. During the days of relatively low power computing, the generous front intake could easily allow for passive cooling. Ah, well. I like my Centurion =p
I had to take it apart to give my ram another upgrade, and then I noticed the metal plates blocking the drive bays. Now, all casings have some form of these: The thin plates that must be pulled out in order to fit new drives in. Unfortunately, try as I might, I really couldn't remove them. Obviously, I had to take the pesky front panel out, and I had no clue as to how I would go about doing that. The front panel appeared to be fixed in place with plastic split knobs, and no visible screws. I assumed that the knobs were a PITA to deal with. The wires were running out of it and I was loathe to have them come out.
Then I tried tugging on the front panel. It gave slightly, so I tugged a bit harder to see how I would remove it. Then the entire panel came out in my hand. The first thing I noticed was the elegance of the design, since the wired parts were actually set into a separate panel. That meant that I could easily take the casing apart to remove the grills and free up the drive bays, and to remove those pesky metal plates which were interfering with my airflow.
After successfully removing the plates, I noted that the airflow was significantly improved. For one, the entire front panel is now a completely freed intake. Frankly, I don't know why the early casings weren't designed this way. During the days of relatively low power computing, the generous front intake could easily allow for passive cooling. Ah, well. I like my Centurion =p
Saturday, June 20, 2009
The Pursuit Of Pain And Pleasure
While science and technology appear to have advanced greatly since millennia past, the cognitions of humans seem to have strayed little from that of their ancestors. Arguably humans are still little more than animals, or perhaps at most poorly calibrated automatons programmed for the pursuit of pleasure and avoidance of pain.
Take the average person and put him in a room with numerous other individuals. Ensure that one exit remains, then light a fire that spreads rapidly through the room. Predictably, all the individuals will move as one, pressing urgently against one another in an effort to get out as quickly as possible. Despite the efforts to train humans in the procedures of fire evacuations, it seems inevitable that their animal instincts for the avoidance of pain will take over, and the incredible agony from the sheer heat will drive the conditioning right out of their heads.
The pursuit of pleasure is yet another problem. Where no pain is involved, the presence and absence of pleasure will suffice as a motivator. An example is the liking for potato chips despite the associated health and weight problems. The quest for survival here does not seem to apply, since even data indicating the harmfulness of such things merely sinks in at a conscious level but is quickly laid aside in the face of immediate gratification. Admittedly, I am not immune to such lures.
What would be most interesting is evolving the psyche to enhance the ability to suppress such non-constructive drives in order to channel that energy and attention towards something better.
Take the average person and put him in a room with numerous other individuals. Ensure that one exit remains, then light a fire that spreads rapidly through the room. Predictably, all the individuals will move as one, pressing urgently against one another in an effort to get out as quickly as possible. Despite the efforts to train humans in the procedures of fire evacuations, it seems inevitable that their animal instincts for the avoidance of pain will take over, and the incredible agony from the sheer heat will drive the conditioning right out of their heads.
The pursuit of pleasure is yet another problem. Where no pain is involved, the presence and absence of pleasure will suffice as a motivator. An example is the liking for potato chips despite the associated health and weight problems. The quest for survival here does not seem to apply, since even data indicating the harmfulness of such things merely sinks in at a conscious level but is quickly laid aside in the face of immediate gratification. Admittedly, I am not immune to such lures.
What would be most interesting is evolving the psyche to enhance the ability to suppress such non-constructive drives in order to channel that energy and attention towards something better.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
The Lycosa
Right, then. I finally got tired of my noisy old Prodikeys and figured I'd like to reward myself with something...classy. Well it was a tough decision between the vanilla keyboards and gaming keyboards, and I kept asking myself...is the darned thing worth it. Now, there are undoubtedly loads of vanilla boards out there, but most were ugly, had bad layouts, combinations of both and all that rot. Basically, nothing fit.
Then I spotted the Razer Lycosa (http://www.razerzone.com/gaming-keyboards/razer-lycosa/razer-lycosa-keyboard). Damn. A decision like that would do horrible things to my nonexistent street cred. I mean, I've already got Razer stuff on my desk. Computer table. Whatever. I call it my Navi. Razer fan just didn't cut it. Then again, I never like letting street cred get in the way of what I want and what I like. I liked the layout, the shape and basically the no frills buttons. I never know what to do with a zillion macro buttons anyway, and the Tarantula just well...it had a gawdawful delete button cluster. Anyhoo, it became a grudge match between the Lycosa, Arctosa and Lycosa Mirror. The Arctosa rapidly fell out of the game because of the lack of backlighting. Only the Arctosa and Mirror were left. Now, I would've taken the Mirror except for the downright silly fact that it's just one big fingerprint magnet, and didn't have rubberized keys! The real unique selling point of the original Lycosa was the rubberized keys that felt oh so good. And, well, I heard it was a rather quiet keyboard. Lycosa it was.
I like to think of backlighting as a really nice aesthetic option. When I'm feeling like having a nice glow from my keyboard, I keep them on. When I'm sick of lights, I have something that's like Das Keyboard. Neat. Slim, low profile, small size. Neat, too. Rubberized keys...now that's something else. It's like having a keyboard version of my Lachesis. Smexy feel. Probably gona be a bitch to clean eventually, but hey...it's the feeling, man. Besides, this keyboard's really responsive. No squishy buttons here, and the thing didn't rattle as I was pounding on it.
Now for the nasty bits. I didn't like that they had the silicone nipples under the buttons integrated with the rest of the keyboard mat. That basically meant I'd have a much harder time getting each key replaced if/when they broke. I'd probably replace the keyboard before then out of its invariable morphing into sheer ugly gunkiness, but that's my pet peeve. Oh, and the keyboard's not exactly silent, but it is quieter.
Anyhoo...after shopping around a lot, I found a store that sold it at a rather lower price than the rest. Hey...it's their overheads, man. Got my new toy and I'm now happily pounding away on it. I can see its health bar going down down down already...
Then I spotted the Razer Lycosa (http://www.razerzone.com/gaming-keyboards/razer-lycosa/razer-lycosa-keyboard). Damn. A decision like that would do horrible things to my nonexistent street cred. I mean, I've already got Razer stuff on my desk. Computer table. Whatever. I call it my Navi. Razer fan just didn't cut it. Then again, I never like letting street cred get in the way of what I want and what I like. I liked the layout, the shape and basically the no frills buttons. I never know what to do with a zillion macro buttons anyway, and the Tarantula just well...it had a gawdawful delete button cluster. Anyhoo, it became a grudge match between the Lycosa, Arctosa and Lycosa Mirror. The Arctosa rapidly fell out of the game because of the lack of backlighting. Only the Arctosa and Mirror were left. Now, I would've taken the Mirror except for the downright silly fact that it's just one big fingerprint magnet, and didn't have rubberized keys! The real unique selling point of the original Lycosa was the rubberized keys that felt oh so good. And, well, I heard it was a rather quiet keyboard. Lycosa it was.
I like to think of backlighting as a really nice aesthetic option. When I'm feeling like having a nice glow from my keyboard, I keep them on. When I'm sick of lights, I have something that's like Das Keyboard. Neat. Slim, low profile, small size. Neat, too. Rubberized keys...now that's something else. It's like having a keyboard version of my Lachesis. Smexy feel. Probably gona be a bitch to clean eventually, but hey...it's the feeling, man. Besides, this keyboard's really responsive. No squishy buttons here, and the thing didn't rattle as I was pounding on it.
Now for the nasty bits. I didn't like that they had the silicone nipples under the buttons integrated with the rest of the keyboard mat. That basically meant I'd have a much harder time getting each key replaced if/when they broke. I'd probably replace the keyboard before then out of its invariable morphing into sheer ugly gunkiness, but that's my pet peeve. Oh, and the keyboard's not exactly silent, but it is quieter.
Anyhoo...after shopping around a lot, I found a store that sold it at a rather lower price than the rest. Hey...it's their overheads, man. Got my new toy and I'm now happily pounding away on it. I can see its health bar going down down down already...
Monday, June 15, 2009
Lovebombing: A Useless Tactic
There are times when I wonder at the methods of some...less savory organizations. Apparently, one way they gain recruits is to "lovebomb" them. That is, to express strongly and repeatedly the members' love for the new recruit, thus gaining their trust, friendship and quite an unshakable faith.
It puzzles me how such a tactic can work. Ok let's assume for one that I do not notice that the love is fake. As in something uttered from lips with little substance to back it up. Doesn't seem particularly attractive. Someone talking about love all day would probably make me feel seriously ill, and I might just silence them by some rather unpleasant means. Seriously. I don't feel bad about taking extreme measures when someone's being that annoying.
Then assume that I somehow want to receive such affections. I guess that would require me to be in quite a receptive state. As in needing that kind of love. I don't know...never actually believed in that sort of love. The love that I believe in cannot be expressed in words; only in actions. It does make me wonder, though, how people can be seriously convinced into believing that mere words and a few superficial deeds can buy them a new family. Then it makes me think...man what's become of the state of families nowadays?!
It puzzles me how such a tactic can work. Ok let's assume for one that I do not notice that the love is fake. As in something uttered from lips with little substance to back it up. Doesn't seem particularly attractive. Someone talking about love all day would probably make me feel seriously ill, and I might just silence them by some rather unpleasant means. Seriously. I don't feel bad about taking extreme measures when someone's being that annoying.
Then assume that I somehow want to receive such affections. I guess that would require me to be in quite a receptive state. As in needing that kind of love. I don't know...never actually believed in that sort of love. The love that I believe in cannot be expressed in words; only in actions. It does make me wonder, though, how people can be seriously convinced into believing that mere words and a few superficial deeds can buy them a new family. Then it makes me think...man what's become of the state of families nowadays?!
Friday, June 12, 2009
On Bioshock
Bioshock is undoubtedly a really well designed game. It plays like a level 1 all the way from the beginning to end. By level 1 I mean the way most games are rather well designed for the initial levels, then the other levels just fade into a blur as they become quite formulaic. That's surprising considering that Bioshock basically has only one art style.
That said, the atmosphere is absolutely terrific. Subtle sound cues, the sounds of Rapture coming apart, all set to the calm 50's music create a grand contrast to what's going on in the game world. That is, not forgetting the groans and stomping of Big Daddies, of course. Combined with a believable city going to ruins, the levels are really somthing.
The levels are special because of gate events (allowing access to different areas) while having a really handcrafted look throughout the game. There are always items in likely and unlikely places, encouraging and rewarding explorers. The constant respawning of enemies here and there would keep the conquerer types busy. Even achievers and socializers aren't left out, what with the rewards for doing well and the suggestion of sentience in the enemies (while not "real", the illusion's pretty good). Moreover, the key players are fleshed out with the tape recordings that are scattered throughout the game.
The weapon upgrades and "magic" abilites (Plasmids) are also fully customizable to the player's gameplay style, and the weapons system rewards players who go out of their way to explore the levels. More importantly, the game does not force players to move forward, which is a great annoyance in other games where exploration just does not seem worthwhile. A touch of Fatal Frame, with the photography and upgrades is a nice touch, too. Hell, even the hacking is nice in having players playing a minigame, though admittedly it got old after while because I made it a point to hack everything in sight. Who wouldn't =p
What's interesting is how the pacing of the game is so tightly tied in with the tutorials. When something is about to happen, the player is warned in overt and subtle ways. Sometimes the voiceover instructs directly. At other times, the instruction is hinted at in the monologue. Even the game environments start off looking rather pristine (suggesting a rather well-maintained Rapture) and then becoming increasingly torn up as the core areas are evidenced to be sites of great conflict.
I especially liked the twist in the story, and how the player's actions can, to a limited extent, vary the gameplay. Specifically: Will you harvest or save the Little Sisters? Moreover, the madness at the heart of Rapture is rather well played out. Steinman's madness is seen to clearly progress as the player gets closer to him.
Given what's been achieved so far, I really do wonder if Bioshock 2 would be able to repeat the success of its predecessor. There's always the temptation to tweak what already works, and there are always those pesky publishing deadlines... Ah, well. There's just so much to learn from Bioshock.
That said, the atmosphere is absolutely terrific. Subtle sound cues, the sounds of Rapture coming apart, all set to the calm 50's music create a grand contrast to what's going on in the game world. That is, not forgetting the groans and stomping of Big Daddies, of course. Combined with a believable city going to ruins, the levels are really somthing.
The levels are special because of gate events (allowing access to different areas) while having a really handcrafted look throughout the game. There are always items in likely and unlikely places, encouraging and rewarding explorers. The constant respawning of enemies here and there would keep the conquerer types busy. Even achievers and socializers aren't left out, what with the rewards for doing well and the suggestion of sentience in the enemies (while not "real", the illusion's pretty good). Moreover, the key players are fleshed out with the tape recordings that are scattered throughout the game.
The weapon upgrades and "magic" abilites (Plasmids) are also fully customizable to the player's gameplay style, and the weapons system rewards players who go out of their way to explore the levels. More importantly, the game does not force players to move forward, which is a great annoyance in other games where exploration just does not seem worthwhile. A touch of Fatal Frame, with the photography and upgrades is a nice touch, too. Hell, even the hacking is nice in having players playing a minigame, though admittedly it got old after while because I made it a point to hack everything in sight. Who wouldn't =p
What's interesting is how the pacing of the game is so tightly tied in with the tutorials. When something is about to happen, the player is warned in overt and subtle ways. Sometimes the voiceover instructs directly. At other times, the instruction is hinted at in the monologue. Even the game environments start off looking rather pristine (suggesting a rather well-maintained Rapture) and then becoming increasingly torn up as the core areas are evidenced to be sites of great conflict.
I especially liked the twist in the story, and how the player's actions can, to a limited extent, vary the gameplay. Specifically: Will you harvest or save the Little Sisters? Moreover, the madness at the heart of Rapture is rather well played out. Steinman's madness is seen to clearly progress as the player gets closer to him.
Given what's been achieved so far, I really do wonder if Bioshock 2 would be able to repeat the success of its predecessor. There's always the temptation to tweak what already works, and there are always those pesky publishing deadlines... Ah, well. There's just so much to learn from Bioshock.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Terminator: Salvation
Another installment in the interminable Terminator line. Sometimes it makes one wonder if the series of movies will ever end. Of course, this being Terminator, my expectations of the movie have been watered down somewhat. After all, this is meant to be a "cultural" show with lots of special effects, and it doesn't fail to deliver.
Oh, did I mention that the show's got the hunky Christian Bale and Sam Worthington in there? Now, while it would be rather satisfying to see them duke it out, sometimes it's just sufficient to have 'em showing up. Pity about the absence of washboard abs this time round, but hey we can't expect every movie to be 300.
I suppose what pleased me the most about the show was that it was full of boss fights. Now, most movies nowadays revolve around massacring wave after wave of enemies to get at whatever it is to blow it up. Simple enough. However, in Salvation, we've got the typical virtually indestructible terminator bots, which while few in number, can really dish it out before going down.
I also liked the Bioshock twist in the show, though of course that would be a spoiler so I shan't include it here. Suffice to know that Arnie's obligatory appearance is somewhere in there. Anyway, one thing I never got about the Machines is that, unlike in The Matrix, they never seem to get down to using swarm tactics. One would think that if people had such difficulty with their small number of T-bots, they'd be totally overrun if say 3 T-bots decided to show up all at once. Moreover, why doesn't machine city have like loads of super long range, hyper-accurate sniper rifles to take down infiltrators?
Nonetheless, the movie is a bit more "realistic" than the usual stuff out there. For once, not every vehicle's a pinto. Things actually take some effort to blow up, and not every enemy blows up in the resultant explosions (where's the fun in that? =p). Overall, I'd say the movie gets a 8/10, which is fairly generous for any other movie, but this...is Terminator.
Oh, did I mention that the show's got the hunky Christian Bale and Sam Worthington in there? Now, while it would be rather satisfying to see them duke it out, sometimes it's just sufficient to have 'em showing up. Pity about the absence of washboard abs this time round, but hey we can't expect every movie to be 300.
I suppose what pleased me the most about the show was that it was full of boss fights. Now, most movies nowadays revolve around massacring wave after wave of enemies to get at whatever it is to blow it up. Simple enough. However, in Salvation, we've got the typical virtually indestructible terminator bots, which while few in number, can really dish it out before going down.
I also liked the Bioshock twist in the show, though of course that would be a spoiler so I shan't include it here. Suffice to know that Arnie's obligatory appearance is somewhere in there. Anyway, one thing I never got about the Machines is that, unlike in The Matrix, they never seem to get down to using swarm tactics. One would think that if people had such difficulty with their small number of T-bots, they'd be totally overrun if say 3 T-bots decided to show up all at once. Moreover, why doesn't machine city have like loads of super long range, hyper-accurate sniper rifles to take down infiltrators?
Nonetheless, the movie is a bit more "realistic" than the usual stuff out there. For once, not every vehicle's a pinto. Things actually take some effort to blow up, and not every enemy blows up in the resultant explosions (where's the fun in that? =p). Overall, I'd say the movie gets a 8/10, which is fairly generous for any other movie, but this...is Terminator.
Monday, June 08, 2009
Can Values Be Arbitrary?
When a perspective is taken, it is often done in relation to others. It creates the illusion of non-arbitrariness, because there is a point of comparison. For example, the standards of morality are compared with that of the rest of the world, other cultures or even the past. In relation to those, one finds one's value.
Yet values do not have actual "value" attached to them. They cannot be evaluated in isolation. In fact, that sounds dangerously like arbitrariness already. Worse yet, the very selection of the points of comparison cannot help but be arbitrary, because they are compared with something that has no intrinsic value to begin with.
Where is the standard of validity, then? While it is easy enough to invoke the supernatural and to point out historical precedents, I think it is difficult to deny that values can and are arbitrary. After acknowledging this, there is nothing wrong with accepting arbitrary values. However, it must then be acknowledged that since they are arbitrary, values can actually be changed. They are certainly not set in stone.
Yet values do not have actual "value" attached to them. They cannot be evaluated in isolation. In fact, that sounds dangerously like arbitrariness already. Worse yet, the very selection of the points of comparison cannot help but be arbitrary, because they are compared with something that has no intrinsic value to begin with.
Where is the standard of validity, then? While it is easy enough to invoke the supernatural and to point out historical precedents, I think it is difficult to deny that values can and are arbitrary. After acknowledging this, there is nothing wrong with accepting arbitrary values. However, it must then be acknowledged that since they are arbitrary, values can actually be changed. They are certainly not set in stone.
Sunday, June 07, 2009
The Arts
When I consider the origins of the Arts, my current conclusion is that they come from a sense of comfort. They are the result of a certain spontaneity born of comfort, for doing something in exchange for nothing. The state of comfort may even arise within a time and space of tumult, when one finally is at peace with the condition of the surroundings, and finally gains the sufficient detachment to feel that sort of comfort. No time or space is ever absolutely perfect, so the state of perceived perfection must come from a form of detachment.
However, that spontaneity cannot arise from a constant crisis mindset. When one feels constantly harried, at risk of one's life and that society is on the brink of collapse, it is difficult to feel creative because one is constantly struggling to survive, and has no time for the creativity that comes with comfort.
Ultimately, there must be a point of acceptance, whereby the chaos of life is momentarily tamed, and one watches from a distance, then makes works that awe and inspire. Yet the creativity cannot come without some measure of chaos, otherwise it takes the form of normalcy and challenges nothing. In being unchallenging, it becomes difficult to awe and inspire. Without that, how can something be called art?
However, that spontaneity cannot arise from a constant crisis mindset. When one feels constantly harried, at risk of one's life and that society is on the brink of collapse, it is difficult to feel creative because one is constantly struggling to survive, and has no time for the creativity that comes with comfort.
Ultimately, there must be a point of acceptance, whereby the chaos of life is momentarily tamed, and one watches from a distance, then makes works that awe and inspire. Yet the creativity cannot come without some measure of chaos, otherwise it takes the form of normalcy and challenges nothing. In being unchallenging, it becomes difficult to awe and inspire. Without that, how can something be called art?
Friday, June 05, 2009
The Standards Of Others
The standards of others, like the standards one sets for oneself, are likely to be arbitrary. The standards set by society, however, are likely to be even more arbitrary, because the first is set for an individual or a small group of people, but the other is set for a massive number of people. Living by the standards imposed by others can be a major drawback, since one becomes constrained by arbitrary standards that do not challenge one's abilities to the fullest.
The greatest weakness is the desire to seek approval. While some may claim to strive for greatness, and that greatness is an intrinsic desire, there may yet be a desire to become great and thereby gain approval for that attained position. Such satisfaction does not feel true to me, because it comes from others and not myself.
The standards of the self, though arbitrary, are way more satisfying. This is simply due to having standards tailored to my own limitations, finding those limitations and breaking beyond them. Of course, I am still trying to cultivate ever more self-awareness, such that the standards become less arbitrary and more true to my personal abilities. To me, that is the way of growth. Not just to cling to any established standard that may be beneath me, yet convincing myself that since I have matched a lower standard, I am content.
The greatest weakness is the desire to seek approval. While some may claim to strive for greatness, and that greatness is an intrinsic desire, there may yet be a desire to become great and thereby gain approval for that attained position. Such satisfaction does not feel true to me, because it comes from others and not myself.
The standards of the self, though arbitrary, are way more satisfying. This is simply due to having standards tailored to my own limitations, finding those limitations and breaking beyond them. Of course, I am still trying to cultivate ever more self-awareness, such that the standards become less arbitrary and more true to my personal abilities. To me, that is the way of growth. Not just to cling to any established standard that may be beneath me, yet convincing myself that since I have matched a lower standard, I am content.
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