Friday, November 03, 2006


I wrote an exam on concurrency this morning and straight after that we went to La Pat to enjoy a tall {nice and cool!} glass of fresh ice cold OJ.

I remember reading somewhere that there’s nothing like the taste of a good strong shot of orange juice to wash the taste of slack-jawed idiot out of your mouth. It’s amazing how citrus has that effect. And the best part is that it works! Try it. Next time you fail a module flat on your face, have some OJ. Next time you embarrass yourself so badly, you hope the earth will swallow you up from beneath you, have some OJ. Next time you find yourself having sat programming at a PC for 5 hours looking for a bug which turned out to be a missing semi-colon, have some OJ. Next time you leave the TV remote control in the bathroom after a quick trip there, have some OJ.

Really. It just makes everything better again. It might have something to do with the brutal sensation of slick sour goodness slicing down your throat. Like it’s a kind of punishment you give yourself but a treat at the same time. We don’t care. All we know is OJ makes life great.

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Insert unworthy title here

Run to the water
and find me there
burnt to the core but not broken
we'll cut through the madness
of these streets below the moon
these streets below the moon

and I will never leave you
'til we can say, ‘this world was just a dream
we were sleepin' now we are awake’
'til we can say

in a moment we lost our minds here
and dreamt the world was round
a million mile fall from grace
thank God we missed the ground

Big Concerts present
Live – Black Mountain, White Light World Tour
Live was frickin amazing. I now know what they mean when they say you can record how much you want to but you can never capture that energy. I can rant and rave forever about how amazing the experience was but I can’t ever reproject the feeling and the goosebumps and the tingles and the “Oh my God, it’s Ed Kawalczyk!!” I can look at our photos and videos all night long but it will never be just enough.
Is there anything like a rock concert? There’s the chick in front of you offering you some of her drink. There’s the gay guy next to you spitting all over you and cursing the guy who warns him through a loud speaker to put “that damn cigarette out NOW.” There’s the fact that you spent all day trying to get your hair right and you got there and it rained! There’s your little sister standing over you screaming things you’ll try your best never to hear from her again…

But then there’s the people you came here with, in some cases the people you came here because of. Knowing you’re embarrassing yourself thoroughly in front of people you usually try your best to act decent and well brought up around. Knowing absolutely anything can happen tonight because there’s a feeling of eternity in the air you can almost taste.
<<This night will never end>>
There’s the vague memory of Ed saying how they feel about water in an interview, how Live has it in every one of their videos, how queen_lestat (my personal gateway to the Great Bliss that is Live) referred to the night as something very witty she'll hopefully blog about, the unimaginable performance of Lightning Crashes.
There’s the crowd all around you and inside you and everywhere living the experience right along there with you with one voice and one spirit and one heart and one thought: “THIS IS THE BEST NIGHT I’M GOING TO HAVE IN A DAMN LONG TIME!!!!!!!”

Saturday, October 21, 2006

You are not getting Sleepy

Remember that Blur song, Coffee and TV? I miss sleeping. I think there was a time I actually used to like it. "...I'm going blind and I'm brain dead virtually."
You don't need to sleep too much to be able to do this. I think it's safe to say when you stop "saying stuff" and prefer to refer to it as "hearing yourself say stuff," things are looking pretty bad.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

A Little Tribute

This morning after sehri, (meal before sunrise in preparation of a fasting day) I couldn't sleep so I created this little guy. Do pay attention to the fine detail used in his design. He's holding a chainsaw for a reason. He's got a black eye and stitches on his face for a reason too. I don't know why he's so dirty though. (I can only think to blame it on the way he was raised...) Like the rest of us, computer science is kicking this little fella's ass. You see that bored expression on his face? That's him getting used to the kicking. You see the gear he's wearing? That's proof of how he yearns for the life he had before the void. But it's over, boy!!!! NyAHAHAHAHAHAH....!

The thing is, this cutey is based on someone who actually exists. Somebody who is decidedly less cute. (Decidedly because he thinks he is. NyAHAHAHAHAHAHA...!)

Anyway, but only because the child my own mother raised occasionally likes to interfere in my life, I think this picture deserves an apology. How could I possibly have the nerve to add another personality to this sad little man's collection of many. Seriously, it's not even funny.

I think I made him because said someone really makes CS a little more fun than it actually is. But not just worth it. So brush up, dude, I know you're reading this!!

Friday, September 22, 2006

Information Ethics

I got a couple of revelations today. I finally got my answer. Now I know why I studied Information Ethics. Because when you get accused of copying in one silly little class test (it, being the second revelation) by somebody with absolutely no ethics, with absolutely no hard evidence or substantial proof, you need to know the friggin definition of fancy shmancy words like, “defamation” and “hate speech” and “plagiarism” and more importantly, what they all entail. I love the computer science department at my university, but when they screw you over like this, it makes me <FOURIE-US>. What could possibly be worse? My favourite professor, the very one who presented me with my first year award, the one who introduced me to computer science, and made me decide that it was what I wanted to do, the one who made me feel I could keep going when computer science started looking like a very severe matriarchal type of woman thinks I’m a cheater. Now I have to present my cheating face to him and explain how come the Cartoon Heroes have carbon copy scripts. Because, you know, they study together, they go for lectures together, they do their pracs together, so of course it’s completely rational to assume it’s because they copied and thereby imply that they are devoid of ethics, integrity and the basic human dignity ones parents are supposed to inculcate in them as children. Remember in Desperate Housewives how Bree taught Andrew the concept of shame? Exactly like that.

How much more could we have been insulted??

And it’s all thanks to some idiot who clearly believes he has an eye for spotting patterns (a rare gift awarded only to a select few of us) by realising two scripts look exactly the same purely because the one was right on top of the other. I would hate to sound as if I’m arguing from the wrong point of view, but really, what kind of a brainless fool copies from someone word for word, and then as if that wasn’t enough to get Idiot of the Year Award, still hands in at the same time as them?

Tsk, tsk…

Saturday, September 16, 2006

The mushrooms are on the roof.

Before I start the ever-therapeutic rambling let me just save myself from being sued on the grounds of breach of intellectual property rights by giving full credit to queen_Lestat for exhibiting her genius and thinking up “cartoon heroes.” And speaking of intellectual property rights, I’ve been aimlessly wondering about this module we’re doing. Information Ethics sound like the most boring thing in the world, doesn’t it? It seems unbelievably technical and someone is yet to be able to explain to me what the point of it is. Yes, first there’s data and then information and then knowledge and then wisdom and yes, information has become a commodity and changed the way we research blablabla in recent years but is it really necessary to declare it a science? I mean just think, The anatomy of a blog. What the Hades?

Friday, August 04, 2006

Data Structures and other Such Rubbish

So today was our first exam opportunity for the Greatly Dreaded Data Structures Module. All in all I have to say it was quite an interesting experience. Watching all your friends stress (try to rebuild the wall of hope of any kind of success which is rapidly crumbling around their ears) while you simply embrace the failure gracefully (throwitcatchitgobbledeegook) definitely makes it for the books… or at least a blog then. After several conversations which involved the remaining Cartoon Hero (who will henceforth be referred to as “The Remaining Cartoon Hero Whose Name Shan’t Be Mentioned”) describing the GDDSM (inter alia) a “void”, “black abyss of nothingness” and “the ultimate vacuum,” I think I’ll be glad to call failing such a failable thing a fine art form. I mean, I could marvel for hours about the fact that we spend more money printing pages we will never look at twice (because of course the GDDSM exam is open-book by the great grace of the GDDSM Powers that Be, sometimes called the course coordinators) and a text book we can’t understand than I ever spent on anything I actually wanted. It must be said that this was highlighted in the clearest possible light (as is usually done when such situations come to be and I try my hardest to suppress the thought) by Her Respected Legendary Cynic of Noteness.

What is that? That frighteningly sharp clarity that comes with the promise of impending doom? Here it is. My life can go one of two ways from here. Surrender to the black abyss of nothingness or change my degree to BCom human resources. Surely it is the answer to every question that sounds like, “What now?” and I’ll simply die before even thinking about contemplating considering Informatics. Rehab for CS students much? No thanks.

So here we are. The GDDSM PtB are out to get us and there’s nowhere to run to. So I’ll sit right here, carry on telling myself its art and brace myself for another 3 years or so doing this module. Who ever thought art could you make you feel so cold eh?

Aah yes, the cold. It’s cold.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

The Utter Lack of Profound Things

A friend of mine, a legendary cynic of note, recently used the expression, "perambulating along the outskirts of verbosity," in connection to a particularly embarrassing magazine article we read together. (This of course had nothing to do with the fact that our feelings toward the writer are decidedly negative...) Anyway, it made me wonder about using big fancy words and whether being truly articulate means conveying exactly what you feel in the simplest possible way. I'm reminded briefly of Kevin Spacey's voice in American Beauty:

"I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me ... but it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst ...And then I remember ... to relax, and not try to hold on to it. And then it flows through me like rain. And I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life. You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. Don't worry ... you will someday."

The thoughts are sometimes too much to conceive of all at once. Writing them down helps but I remember JK Rowling once describing the sensation as trying to contain flowing water in your cupped hands.

My elder sister, a wise, sage-like nobility of our Time, calls it stream of consciousness. I, of course, don't understand the concept the way it probably should be understood, but being a self-proclaimed /*presumptuous*/ programmer whose mind has been mercilessly addled by violent and disturbing pc games and TV shows can probably be stated as the reason I have made my own ridiculous interpretation of it. I'm writing and writing /*or typing and typing*/ and the gaarrbage that appears on the page /*or the screen*/ is just as it was in my head, only with a clear kind of structure (meant only for me, of course). So contrary to popular belief, I'm not being intoxicated by the exuberance of my own verbosity, even though I may be rambling on incoherently. I'm just getting high on my own consciousness. Does that make any sense? I'm a bad writer. But it's enjoyable for me because when I read the gaarrbage later, I'm all high on it and feeling richly dramatic and maybe even substantial. Whatever…I suppose I could be wrong, but I believe it's healthy to write. No matter how bad you are at it. That way, when someone asks you a question, for the most part, at least you'll be able to maggaj {maggaj - a word formulated by delirious people to describe what a 2nd year computer science student writes in an exam which dares contemplating asking her to write out two pages of C++ code without a compiler /*but a pen, instead; WHAT IS THAT?!?*/}

So you see, even if it is in a morbid, melancholic kind of way, as long as you can express yourself, be it verbosely, or so that you are the only person that will ever understand it, there’ll always be beauty in the world. At least we’ll be feeding our own egos.

I think this post was just a warning in case you wanted to read more later on.