Longwing's Library

Somewhere near the edge of normal, part 3

2008-07-24T18:44:45Z

Considering Asperger's from a dyslexic's perspective, you'd think I'd be more inclined to defend the legitimacy of Asperger's. I'm not. If anything, it makes me a harsher critic. Are most Aspies legitimate, or victims of a culture of over diagnosis? Is it truly a disability when it doesn't significantly impact one's ability to function? Aspies have a lot of trouble getting dates and interacting in social situations. We have a word for that: Geek.

It's worth pointing out that the number of Asperger's diagnosed individuals rises sharply in the Geek subculture. Proponents of the disease claim that our subculture lends itself well to the acceptance of people with Asperger's. This may well be the case, but if you read the symptom list for Aspergers, it looks an awful lot like a psych profile of the standard brainy geek. A number of the symptom lists read like astronomy charts: "Aspies are bad at math, except for some rare cases that are significantly better at math." Really? So what you're actually saying is that mathematical aptitude has nothing do do with your syndrome, because there's no pattern. Why include mention of math at all? The symptom lists cast a wide net, with a lot of opportunity to get yourself caught.

So on it's face, I'm quickly inclined to disbelieve in Aspergers; but dyslexia stops me from making a snap judgment. I know what it's like to have a disability that no one can see, and that no one really understands.

So I'm left torn. In a culture of massive over diagnosis, is Aspergers merely a parent's attempt explain their child's inability to socialize? In a society of massive stigma against mental disabilities, is such a judgment just motivated by prejudice?

I don't know.

Somewhere near the edge of normal, part 2

2008-07-23T14:50:29Z

For me considering Aspergers, will always be framed by my personal journey through a completely unrelated mental disability.

I'm severely dyslexic. I know what it is to have a genuine handicap that exists entirely inside my skull. Nothing separates a dyslexic from a crowd. This leaves people constantly suspicious. Dyslexia is often thought of as an excuse to avoid work or to forgive shoddy writing.

For a long time, I mentioned my dyslexia in casual conversation. I felt it was important that people knew about it. I wanted them to see a functioning dyslexic who hadn't been beaten down into pretending to be normal.

I stopped.

Why? Because no matter how open or approachable I tried to be, I felt it did more harm than good. Normal people don't believe in dyslexia, not really. Only other dyslexics believe in dyslexia. Even then, we're so doubtful that we start testing our fellows, we wonder if they're ~really~ dyslexic. "Oh? How many grades of special ed? What's you're WPM? You still flip characters or is that just me? When did you learn to spell?"

We're so suffused in the popular notion of false dyslexia that we turn on each other. And why not? We dyslexics live our entire lives with this condition. I don't know what it's like to be 'normal', because this inner universe is my 'normal'.

The inside of my head isn't really all that fascinating, it's pretty mundane in here. Just every now and again, for no reason at all, I flip a digit or reverse an S. With dyslexia, you start to think we're not ~really~ sick; you're just whining. Oh sure, I should type about twice as fast as I do, and I can't spell to save my life, but are those dyslexia? Aren't they just shortcomings because I'm lazy? Am I bad with names because of the way I'm wired, or am I just a careless person who doesn't really like people?

Trick question. All of that is dyslexia. Even the doubt. The doubt isn't wired in, but it's caused by dyslexia all the same. Dyslexia sneaks up on you. I don't actually ~see~ flipped digits or reversed symbols. I'll read a number off a slip of paper (301-555-5289), then I'll dial it into the phone (301-555-2589) and be confused by the wrong number. What? 5289? Of course, That's exactly what it says. How did I miss that? I'm being careless, lazy, stupid...

No.

I'm being dyslexic.

Somewhere near the edge of normal

2008-07-22T02:12:19Z

I fell down a rabbit hole last week night. The internet is full of them, someone really should do something about it before they eat all the eCarrots and iLettuce. The hole in question: Wrong Planet, an internet community for people with Aspergers Syndrome.

You know that really creepy feeling you get when an extremely observant person tells you what you're thinking or how you're feeling? No? Trust me that it's very disconcerting. We like to think of ourselves as individuals, unique to ourselves, and ruled by intellect instead of biology, so it's really eerie to see dozens of people thinking the same way you think. It's like staring at a troop of actors who've all been hired to mimic your movements and expressions.

I was left with a distinct lack of sleep, and an overwhelming sense of "holy crap, that's ~me~!" Problems I've always considered to be quirks of my own personality turn out to fit a distinct and identifiable profile.

Do I have Aspergers? I don't know, but the odds are pretty high. Before I can be comfortable with such a diagnosis, I need to consider my feelings towards the 'condition' itself.

Who would win in a fight?

2008-07-21T02:27:02Z

Vikings, astronauts, or dragons?

In 2008, Hollywood has kindly decided to take on the daunting task of answering this question.

Friends, I give you: Outlander.

This will, truly, be a terrible film.

Dude!

2008-07-17T03:46:36Z

So. I've been living under a rock (It's nice, rent's good and utilities are included). As a result of living under a rock, I completely missed out on Doctor Horrible's Sing Along Blog

This is what Joss Whedon did with the writer's strike, and the first episode it out. No one told me. They didn't tell me because they just assumed I knew. Well I didn't.

Doctor Horrible's Sing Along Blog is absolutely fantastic, by the way. This is "the Specials", written by Joss Whedon, as a musical...

No seriously.

On the off chance that others aren't aware of this absolutely incredible phenomenon, I figured I'd share:

Holy Jimmeny Crimeny!

2008-07-16T03:54:59Z

Life. Size. Dragon. Sculpture.

Anyone have nineteen thousand dollars lying around?

The way I think.

2008-07-15T02:14:01Z

This is one of the afterwards from Cory Doctorow's Little Brother. It's kinda creepy how close it is to my own way of thinking. I thought I'd share, seeing as I'm allowed to share.

Afterword by Bruce Schneier

I'm a security technologist. My job is making people secure.

I think about security systems and how to break them. Then, how to make them more secure. Computer security systems. Surveillance systems. Airplane security systems and voting machines and RFID chips and everything else.

Cory invited me into the last few pages of his book because he wanted me to tell you that security is fun. It's incredibly fun. It's cat and mouse, who can outsmart whom, hunter versus hunted fun. I think it's the most fun job you can possibly have. If you thought it was fun to read about Marcus outsmarting the gait-recognition cameras with rocks in his shoes, think of how much more fun it would be if you were the first person in the world to think of that.

Working in security means knowing a lot about technology. It might mean knowing about computers and networks, or cameras and how they work, or the chemistry of bomb detection. But really, security is a mindset. It's a way of thinking. Marcus is a great example of that way of thinking. He's always looking for ways a security system fails. I'll bet he couldn't walk into a store without figuring out a way to shoplift. Not that he'd do it -- there's a difference between knowing how to defeat a security system and actually defeating it -- but he'd know he could.

It's how security people think. We're constantly looking at security systems and how to get around them; we can't help it.

This kind of thinking is important no matter what side of security you're on. If you've been hired to build a shoplift-proof store, you'd better know how to shoplift. If you're designing a camera system that detects individual gaits, you'd better plan for people putting rocks in their shoes. Because if you don't, you're not going to design anything good.

So when you're wandering through your day, take a moment to look at the security systems around you. Look at the cameras in the stores you shop at. (Do they prevent crime, or just move it next door?) See how a restaurant operates. (If you pay after you eat, why don't more people just leave without paying?) Pay attention at airport security. (How could you get a weapon onto an airplane?) Watch what the teller does at a bank. (Bank security is designed to prevent tellers from stealing just as much as it is to prevent you from stealing.) Stare at an anthill. (Insects are all about security.) Read the Constitution, and notice all the ways it provides people with security against government. Look at traffic lights and door locks and all the security systems on television and in the movies. Figure out how they work, what threats they protect against and what threats they don't, how they fail, and how they can be exploited.

Spend enough time doing this, and you'll find yourself thinking differently about the world. You'll start noticing that many of the security systems out there don't actually do what they claim to, and that much of our national security is a waste of money. You'll understand privacy as essential to security, not in opposition. You'll stop worrying about things other people worry about, and start worrying about things other people don't even think about.

Sometimes you'll notice something about security that no one has ever thought about before. And maybe you'll figure out a new way to break a security system.

It was only a few years ago that someone invented phishing.

I'm frequently amazed how easy it is to break some pretty big-name security systems. There are a lot of reasons for this, but the big one is that it's impossible to prove that something is secure. All you can do is try to break it -- if you fail, you know that it's secure enough to keep *you* out, but what about someone who's smarter than you? Anyone can design a security system so strong he himself can't break it.

Think about that for a second, because it's not obvious. No one is qualified to analyze their own security designs, because the designer and the analyzer will be the same person, with the same limits. Someone else has to analyze the security, because it has to be secure against things the designers didn't think of.

This means that all of us have to analyze the security that other people design. And surprisingly often, one of us breaks it. Marcus's exploits aren't far-fetched; that kind of thing happens all the time. Go onto the net and look up "bump key" or "Bic pen Kryptonite lock"; you'll find a couple of really interesting stories about seemingly strong security defeated by pretty basic technology.

And when that happens, be sure to publish it on the Internet somewhere. Secrecy and security aren't the same, even though it may seem that way. Only bad security relies on secrecy; good security works even if all the details of it are public.

And publishing vulnerabilities forces security designers to design better security, and makes us all better consumers of security. If you buy a Kryptonite bike lock and it can be defeated with a Bic pen, you're not getting very good security for your money. And, likewise, if a bunch of smart kids can defeat the DHS's antiterrorist technologies, then it's not going to do a very good job against real terrorists.

Trading privacy for security is stupid enough; not getting any actual security in the bargain is even stupider.

So close the book and go. The world is full of security systems. Hack one of them.

Satire, but funny.

2008-07-14T14:54:13Z

John McCain Drops Entire Campaign Staff.

McCain wrote, “My friends, it is with deep regret and deeper gratitude for your dedication, hard work and friendship, that I accept your resignation that I expect on my desk by the end of the day.”

...

Okay.

Neil Stephonson on the bifrucated nature of modern culture.

2008-07-11T21:29:54Z

Say what you might about Stephenson's fictions, the man makes some really interesting observations about modern culture.

Stephenson can meander, and make unlikeable characters, but his ~cultures~ are often deep and highly evolved. Well, the above is a link to Stephenson talking about culture. He tends to be monotone, but it's really interesting to see such an iconic geek attempt to define geekdom.

In 40 minutes, he tears down the standard social model and attacks the idea that SF is genuinely a genre. Which, being Niel Stephenson, he does quite well.

NIN: The Slip

2008-07-09T16:33:13Z

Wow. Do you know what else is available for free? Nine Inch Nails new album: The Slip.

I'm sure this is ancient news for those who've been paying attention... but I've not been paying attention, and it hit me out of left field. To be fair, I don't pay a lot of attention to music news. It'd be disingenuous to call myself a fan of NIN. Fandom indicates a level of dedication beyond enjoying the music and owning an album or two. I may need to adjust my dedication level now.

When "With Teeth" came out, the headlining song of the album was "The hand that feeds". From a lyrical standpoint, it was a pretty standard anti-establishment message. When the vid came out for "The hand that feeds", NIN's message became focused on a more specific target. I remember seeing the vid for the first time, and thinking I had to be crazy. "The hand that feeds" is about RIAA. Was I imagining this? Was NIN speaking out against the lawsuits? Was I just reading too much into it?

Well, looks like I wasn't wrong. NIN bit the hand that fed them.

Information is a kind of drug.

2008-07-09T06:04:39Z

I've been reading. More accurately, I've been thinking. The reading just worked as a springboard for the thinking bit. Given that it's 1:33 as I'm typing this, I've been hitting the thinking pretty hard. If words and ideas can be thought of as a kind of drug, then I've stumbled across some really top quality dope.

Not surprising, given that this particular drug was formulated by Cory Doctorow.

Thanks Roo, for pointing me to my latest dealer. The drug in question: Little Brother. It's a really really good book. Mind you, it's not "fantastic", "marvelous", or "amazing". Those words imply a level of incredulity. The thing that's so brilliant about Little Brother is that it's not unbelievable. It sticks to real tech, real hacking, things I've seen posted on dozens of sites, then reposted on dozens more. (By the way Roo, I'm only a third of the way through, and he's still talking about real cellphones. Admittedly, they're the type that only get released in Japan, but there's no fiction in them. Though there are plenty of little embellishments all over the place, Paranoid Linux isn't real... yet.)

Little Brother is a novel about privacy, about security, and about why innocent people deserve more of the former and less of the latter. Its good, it's really good, and it makes you think.

It's also free. Completely free. DRMless free. Really honest-to-goodness free. Because Cory Doctorow rolls like that.

I don't know exactly where all these thoughts are leading, but the path I'm on is bloody fascinating. Little Brother lit a fire in my brain. The little boiler is bubbling, and all the gears are spinning full tilt.

You should read this book. Everyone should.

Mal's Song

2008-07-07T16:56:38Z

This is simply fantastic.

If you love Firefly, watch this. If you don't understand why Firefly fans are all rabid, watch this, it'll help explain our irrational fervor.

I'm Voting Republican.

2008-06-11T16:38:14Z

I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm convinced. Come November, I'm going to get what I deserve.

A clarification on my Ubuntu post.

2008-04-30T22:08:53Z

My computer R pretty. This R a pretty everyone can use, and it even makes U more productive.

This is because Ubuntu R awesome, and Microsoft can'ts has me bucket.

Doing the people's work.

2008-04-30T22:05:59Z

Had a conversation with my boss today. We talked airplanes.

Specifically, we talked about the ban on the use of cellphones on airplanes. I took a moment to rant about how it's silly, because the strong transmitters are in the towers, not the phones. If you can get signal, then the plane is already suffering all the "interference" it's going to suffer.

He thought about this a moment, then told me to write a letter to the FAA, from him, asking for a detailed technical explanation as to why he can't use his cellphone while taxing a runway. I said "yes sir, I'll get right on it". I even managed to hide my grin.

So now I'm demanding explanations from the FAA, care of the Congress of the United States.

I love my job.

Ubuntu!

2008-04-28T00:30:20Z

Cannonical released Ubuntu 8.4 on Thursday. This makes me extremely happy. The new Ubuntu features Compiz Fusion as part of it's default configuration. Compiz Fusion is a graphics package for the user interface that takes advantage of modern graphics cards. Why, in an era of insane photo-simulation in video games, are we not using this tech for something productive? Like the better (and prettier) management of our workflows?

Compiz shows what happens when you solve the problem instead of asking the question. My windows are floating in space on a giant translucent cube. It's easier to use, and awesome at the same time. My OS makes me giggle.

I had Compiz running in Ubuntu 7.4, but I had to hack it together from bits and pieces. As a result, my OS broke when I tried to upgrade to Ubuntu 7.10 (Ubuntu releases happen every 6 months, and are labeled by the month of release). I've been hobbling along ever since, and now I finally have my OS back. I only had to install two packages (pre-prepared Linux programs) to get everything running. First, I needed the control pannel for my Nvidia drivers (multimonitors for the win), then I needed the control panel for the Compiz advanced features. That was it. It's working, effectively, out of the box. No hacking at all.

Oh Linux, I've missed you.

Oh sod it.

2008-04-12T00:34:20Z

I'm giving up on finishing the scene-by-scene posting. I can't seem to keep it running, even when I HAVE all the scenes finished. If you'd like to read rest of the draft, just drop me a line. My life is a little too full to tend the project at the level I've been trying to tend it. Sorry about the delay between dropping updates and posting this.

The Wallet

2008-04-10T03:47:09Z

I had a lovely perambulation with samurailuci this evening. It put me an a thoughtful mood.

I smiled meaninglessly at the clerk behind the counter and waved my wallet over the payment sensor. She was pretty. Honestly a little thin for my tastes, but I'd always felt that personality could make up for physical deficiencies. Not that this opinion mattered. She's a clerk, and I'm a customer ringing up a purchase within five minutes of closing. Striking up a conversation would've just been rude.

As the clerk wrapped my package, I paused to regard my wallet. It's a nice wallet, well tended brown leather casing; Vat grown. I know some people think that vat grown leather is crass, fake, and self aggrandizing. I have the same feeling for people who only consider leather legitimate if it comes from killing a large mammal. So at least the feeling is mutual.

I payed a premium for this wallet, and bought all the extra bells and whistles. Literally. If someone attempts use my wallet while more than thirty feet from me, it's designed to give off an ungodly racket.

I disabled the alarm within fifteen minutes of receiving my new wallet in the mail, and wired a series of blasting caps to the circuit instead. If anyone tries to pay for something with my money and without my permission, they'll probably lose their hand.

The irony of being unwilling to kill a cow, but willing to maim a human, is not lost on me. Some would call my little booby trap petty and cruel. A year ago I would've agreed. But this is my fifth wallet since moving, and I've steadily shed my earlier inhibitions.

Philosophy majors hotly debate this sort of thing all the time. Fortunately for my bank account and my peace of mind, I wasn't a philosophy major, merely a mechanical engineer.

I slipped my purchase off the counter and into the bag, nodded to the attendant who nodded back (it's nice to be noticed from time to time), and pocketed my wallet.

Huh

2008-03-19T19:55:46Z

My office's Press Secretary is leaving today. This is his last day at work before he goes off to greener pastures. At his office party, from whence I just returned, I learned that he's turning 27 next week. Do you know who else is turning 27 soon? Me. I'll be 27 in May.

Until today, I assumed that my coworker/pseudoboss was older than me. He had to be in his 30s, I'd assumed. I assumed this for one simple reason: He had authority over my position at work. People who have authority over me have always been older than me.

This is the basic definition of a cognitive dissonance. There's a difference between what my heart knows and what my head knows. In my head, I have no ridiculous barriers about age and position. It's not how old you are, it's what you can do, and (frequently) who you know. In my heart however, this is not the case. I know that age makes no difference, but I still ~feel~ that everyone 'above' me must be older.

As he declared his age over his early birthday-cupcakes, I came to a quiet and weird realization: Most of the people I work with are my age. I scanned the room, taking in the faces of the people I see every day, noting who's age I knew, and who's I could guess. Some of them are younger than me, my boss is older, my boss's boss is older, everyone else is basically my age.

I'm no longer working in an environment where everyone has an extra decade of experience. I'm not faking maturity to blend in, I'm as mature as these people, and they're my peers.

It's kinda strange.

Mythica, the story thus far.

2008-03-09T01:00:01Z

For those curious to revisit my half-built story, we'll be picking up where we left off. Following this post, the remaining posts will be filtered. You'll need to log in to see them, and you'll need to be in my Writing filter. If you'd rather be in/out of the filter, just put a comment on any of my entries.

If you want the full version instead of a synopsis, it's available under the Mythica tag in my LJ. A more convenient full-length recap will be available shortly.

Story thus far:

Dark myths have come to roost in Washington DC

Josi Kimmond knows this. Ever since the accident that claimed her left leg, she can remember the fairytale creatures and nighttime horrors that walk our streets. Everyone can see them, and everyone always has, but only Josi seems to remember them.

Josi had resigned herself to a quiet insanity; she shut up about what she saw to preserve her freedom and her marriage. She was ready to live the rest of her life as the sole witness to the madness of walking Myths, until she met PD. Now everything's different.

Poindexter (PD to nearly everyone) is a private investigator that can't leave a good mystery alone. Understandable, as he's somewhat of a mystery himself. He has a dubious source of regular income, an insatiable appetite for red meat, and an apparent immunity to injury. He can also remember the strange things happening in the city, although he avoids talking about it.

Bach is a man chasing a dream. Literally. His dreams have haunted him halfway across the country, and are driving him inexorably towards DC. He's looking for a cure for his condition: A tendency to grow hooves and horns when angered. The Baba Yaga sent him to Union Station after reading his fortune at a truck stop, which landed him a job waiting tables at the Negative Six, the best restaurant that never existed.

Treant Chesapeake is a man pursuing something far less ephemeral: A killer and a kidnapper on the loose in his town. Someone's been taking children, mostly from troubled neighborhoods, they've also been killing a lot of people, most of them drug dealers and homeless. Treant's a detective for the DCPD. He moonlights for the mythical equivalent of the cops, the Fraternal Order of Mythics. He also may, or may not, be a forest.

The Reaper's Right Hand, (or just Reaper for short) has crossed paths with the FOM more than once, especially since the Throne of God stepped up the killings. It seems she's out every night now, tracking drug dealers and visiting God's vengeance upon them. It's a good life for an angel, following the word of the Lord, but word comes down from the Throne that she's to be reassigned. The throne wants her on hand for an inter-faction effort to find missing children. The Throne's best enforcer is chosen for the role, lest the other factions get out of line.

Things don't really go foul until they all cross paths at the Negative Six. The restaurant is neutral territory. Josi, PD, Treant, and Reaper meet to discuss the kidnappings, and PD drops a massive piece of evidence on the table: The Black Book, a perverse retelling of the Bible which can twist mortal minds. It's missing half it's pages, but the pages have been reappearing all over DC. The sudden resurgence of the book isn't a coincidence, at least that's PD's claim.

He'd explain further, if the presence of the book hadn't caused quite a stir. Bach attacks the group, or more specifically, the book, and fails pretty miserably at his attempt to destroy it. This sparks a string of violent events that leave Bach without a job, and under the protection of Treant. The five of them start searching for evidence.

Reaper finds a school under siege instead. There she meets Cherise, an Apocryphal Angel banned from the Heavenly Host. Cherise is strange, beautiful, liberated, and driven. She's trying to keep whatever's haunting DC away from her chosen protectorate: A school in the worst part of town.

The investigation continues as more evidence begins to surface. The book is being rebuilt page-by-page, each section assigned to a different victimizer. The cases share similar features; every section requires human blood to be complete. Reaper spends less time investigating and more at the school, as attacks against the children grow bolder. She and Cherise encounter a man who calls himself Ford. He's dressed in a business suit of armor, and has an army to back him. The army all seems to be perfect copies of the man himself.

As the situation gets a little more desperate, Bach decides to take drastic action. He summons an incarnation of the Bloody Mary, whom he believes is responsible for the Black Book. Under duress, Mary gives him the clues he needs to track the source, but also threatens him extensively. More potential victims surface, and Bach is left with a difficult choice. If a victim won't believe him, should he attack the potential killer before the victim comes to harm?

He makes the decision, weather right or wrong, and we return to the story with one killer incapacitated, and blood on Bach's hands. He's escaped with the pages from the black book, but the consequences of his choice remain to be seen.

It's done... what now?

2008-03-07T18:10:37Z

Around 9:30 on Thursday, amidst a number of more-important happenings, I finished writing Mythica. Technically, this is self-aggrandizement, I finished the first draft of Mythica, but I'll take what I can get.

So what now? I'll be taking a vacation from writing, that much is sure. The draft needs serious editing, but I'm too close to the material to contribute. So it's finally time to catch up with my backlogged reading list. A few dozen books should flush my own voice out of my head quite nicely. Then I'll be able to revisit what I've written from a fresh perspective.

You all won't have to wait though. I'll resume zero draft postings shortly. I eagerly await having my glaring mistakes pointed out to me.

Gary Gygax passed away.

2008-03-06T18:23:04Z

This being the internet, you've doubtless already heard. I'll not trouble you with his personal history, or with explaining why he's so important to gaming others have said it better. Nor will I try to explain how I feel about it that's been done too.

In 6th grade, I visited my local library and sheepishly asked the man at the counter if they had any books on D&D. The librarian helpfully informed me that they didn't. They used to, "this stuff was huge about ten years ago", but most of those books had been lost, or sold, or to damaged to circulate. I was crestfallen, and the librarian helpfully ran an interlibrary search (This was in an era before you could check your state library circulation online). He turned up one book: Role-Playing Mastery, by Gary Gygax. He put it on order, and I marched back two weeks later to pick it up.

I read it, in the library, before even checking it out. Then I checked it out, and read it again. I reordered that book two times, having it transferred to my branch from the main branch at Wheaton Regional for each rereading. I got into an argument with a librarian at Wheaton, because they refused to permanently switch it to my local library's collection. "How many times in the past five years has that book even been touched!" It was the first time I'd called a stranger an idiot.

The irony is, I didn't believe he co-created D&D. When I read that claim in Role-Playing Mastery, I went back and checked my copy of the 2nd edition PHB, and noticed, quite smugly, that his name wasn't on the list. This fit with my understanding of Gygax; The author of Role-Playing Mastery was smart, funny, and insightful, but he was also very very full of himself. I just figured he made up that part about D&D to impress people.

Cut me some slack, I was 11.

Despite the flaws I saw in the book, despite the complaints I had about some of his thoughts and observations, it was Gygax that taught me the importance of character motivation. It was Gygax who convinced me that Worldbuilding was about details. He taught me that minor characters could make or break a story, and he taught me that not everyone needed to be an epic hero. I didn't learn roleplaying from him, I learned storytelling. It was an earthshattering paradigm shift for an 11 year old. I still owe him for that.
Gary Gygax is dead. Rest in Peace, Dungeon Master.

SOD!

2008-03-04T18:58:09Z

I finally just gave in and called Folger theater, and apparently, the ship's already sailed on this entire endeavor. There are individual seats available here and there, but absolutely nothing for groups. I'd still suggest going, since it looks like a really good performance, but there's simply no way to go as a group.

Sorry folks.

Macbeth Thursday and/or Saturday

2008-03-03T23:15:44Z

Anyone interested?

Steampunked projector.

2008-03-03T20:30:56Z

I've finally something to show for all my mucking about with my projector. The image links to a Flickr photo set of the monstrosity in it's current state.

I'm looking for a way to make uploading photos simpler and easier. For now, I'm going to try my hand at flickr. It's not perfect (for example, I still need my webspace to upload a thumbnail) but it's faster than crafting my own photo galleries from scratch.

While I vastly prefer the flexibility of the RAW format, I may also switch the camera over to JPG. That would drastically reduce the needed steps for uploading project logs.

Sometimes you want to take beautiful photos, but sometimes you just want a snapshot so you can say "Hey! Wires!". It's all hypothetical right now, but I'd like to get some more pictures up. It's so much easier to show what I'm building than it is to describe it through text or voice.