Blessed by the Potato

Seriously, centipedes: WTF?

PS: I need to start springing for blank paper instead of doodling on the backs of other things.

PPS: Fun with Texting

If you send a text message from your cell phone to a landline (which obviously can’t properly receive text messages), instead of bouncing it, the phone company will have a robot read out your text message.

Sometimes, I like to text people’s landlines, and have the robot say “death to humans” in the middle of the message.

I have just three things to say:

1. This place clears out by 4:30 pm most evenings, and the caretaker doesn’t clean the men’s room until after 5. There are only so many people who stay here late on a regular basis, so it’s not going to take us very long to figure out who the disgusting pig is that’s making such an unholy mess of the washroom every single night. We’ll find you, and when we do, well, let’s just say things aren’t going to be pretty. Yes, even less pretty than your bathroom habits that have gone so far beyond “sloppy” that the only explanation is that you are actively vandalizing the washroom.

2. If you’re having that much trouble with your aim, just sit down. The seat was clean before you got there (really nice & freshly disinfected since you seem to wait until after the caretaker has gone through to strike).

3. You’ve got really cloudy urine. As almost-a-kind-of-doctor, I can tell you that means you certainly have kidney cancer and will die a horrible agonizing death soon. I probably shouldn’t mock a guy with no friends who’s on death’s doorstep with kidney cancer and can barely stand up from the pain, let alone aim, but dude… karma’s a bitch.

To break down what it is I’ve been doing for the last few hours, I take recordings of the electrical activity of someone’s brain, it looks something like this:

Lots of squigglies. Too many, in fact — some of those squigglies are the influence of the electrical activity of the heart and of outside sources (like the MRI we stick them in), and they don’t represent the brain activity that we’re looking for. So, you spend a few hours playing with various computerized filtering techniques to get rid of those influences and get something like this:

Presto-boom-o, you’ve got some more-or-less pure brain activity to look at. Repeat it about 50-60 times for all your subjects (PS: still need subjects, enquire within), throw them all together for some groupwise stats, shake it up, have a cookie, and go write it up to share with the world.

Unfortunately, tonight has not been my night for analysis. The stupid program keeps crashing randomly, and now I’ve gone back to look at some of the saved data from earlier in the night:

No squigglies.

WHERE ARE MY SQUIGGLIES??!!

Anger and frustration do not even begin to cover it.

So I forgot that after I got a real webhost I also signed up for Google Analytics, and it’s been a little sobering to look back on the stats now. I get, on average, 7 unique visitors per day. Considering one of them is probably me (since I no longer access the backend directly, as my real webserver is with some company with server farms and probably my old dog Schwartz frolicking, because he totally went to a farm like my parents suggested when I was 11 and not put down like they told me when I was 22, and if he went to a farm it was probably a server farm; and not a decrepit Windows ME system under my desk), that’s just 6 people who visit the site per day. True, many (uncountably many) people may be on the RSS feed now that it actually works, while others may only check every few weeks since it’s not like I post all that often anyway… but I also know that I wake up to 20+ spam comments caught in my filter every morning afternoon. The average length of my posts is about 800 words, so that’s roughly 133 words per visitor.

I thought I had more “real-world” friends reading than that, plus the odd internet person (or chatty AI)… apparently not. Though there have been more than 6 people that have commented in the past on particular posts, it doesn’t appear as though they stick around. So, guessing at the identity of my 6 readers, here are 133 words for each of you:

Wayfare: “She tries to get me to write, and I try to get her not to edit.” I know you must feel in some way obligated to read, if only to check in and see if I was killed in a horrible fiery wreck on the 401. Still, I know you like all the rants here. It’s tough getting this worked up about major (and admittedly, minor) issues and then writing about it for the internet, and mistakes are bound to creep in. I’m glad you use the comments section for corrections. Please send me adorable cat pictures, as I know I don’t have nearly enough for your tastes, and our cat is way cuter than all of Scalzi’s put together (which, as a 3-headed 12-legged monster cat, probably wouldn’t be all that cute).

Netbug: You got me into this whole WordPress thing, then abandoned your own for Twitter. I just can’t do Twitter, man… I can barely get this 133 word gimmick to fit in this one-off post, so a 140 character limit all the time is a serious straitjacket for me. Can you start doing movie reviews on Twitter? I’ve seen some awful movies recently that someone really should have saved me from: The Box, Amelia (actually, both of those I saved myself from after the first fifteen minutes or so). I’m reminded that I should start writing about the upcoming StarCraft2 launch to help get you psyched for it, because if you let me down on SC2, man, Ima gonna be pissed. I’m even carefully timing my graduation so I will have more play time!

Ben: I find it a sign of the times that we seem to be more up-to-date on each others’ lives by reading each others’ blogs than we ever were when we lived in the same city. Speaking of up-to-date on each other’s lives, what’s going on with the housing search?? You put that big blog post up, I put a big messy comment in reply, and then nothing except pictures of meat! (There are a lot of meat pictures on your blog!) Inquiring minds want to know! Also, I have no idea what the deal is with wine, so many of the “descriptive” words used make no sense to me, yet somehow you describing a Pillitteri Chardonnay (a liquid) as “Like a mouthful of oaky buttered toast” makes the world a stranger, better place.

Michael James: I feel bad, actually, that you read this blog. You’ve got an interest in personal finance, and I do occasionally have a post on finance which, IMNSHO, I totally rock. I even have graphs sometimes, and I know you must have a great love of graphs because you so often have such awesome ones on your own blog, and nobody graphs like that just because they think it’s a useful way to convey information. I’ll try to make more graphs (and good ones too, not just graphing alleged cookie ninja attacks vs university exam schedule). Still, I can’t help but think that I somehow tricked you, that every time another post arrives in your RSS feed, and you see it’s not finance related — let alone full of awesome crazy — you shake your head… Sorry.

Spambot: They say flattery will get you everywhere, and I’d say that it’s partly true. When you come in here and post a message about how awesome my blog is and asking for “more information on that topic”, it makes me feel good, in a really vague way. I start to convince myself that you might actually be a real person that likes my writing… until you post ten of the same message daily. That ruins the effect, Spambot. Plus, sometimes, you go and start what I can only assume is swearing in Chinese, and it’s not appreciated, even from a nascent distributed-computing sentience that hasn’t yet properly learned nettiquette. Also, it’s not cool to post more per day than I do, or to make money from my blog when I’m not. Fuck you.

Unknown reader: I don’t know who you are, you’ve never commented. This whole Web2.0 thing is supposed to make it possible for people to provide feedback and make the web all interactive, but that doesn’t mean you’re obligated to. I respect your decision to remain silent and anonymous, and thank you for your readership anyway, and hope I’ve helped entertain or educate you. Besides, I hardly ever comment on other peoples’ posts, even though I read a lot out there. You wouldn’t think it from a guy who goes around blogging and trying to get readers for his blog, but I’m actually kind of shy myself, even on the great anonymous supertube network highway, and sometimes compose comments on other posts, just to delete them without posting. So I totally get where you’re coming from.

In conclusion, I suppose I should be glad I don’t have more readers, because otherwise I’d be up all night looking at what crazy google terms you used to land here, and have to write minor monologues to each of you…

I just got a ticket for parking on campus at Western. I had the parking pass out and displayed on my dash, and they put the ticket on the windshield right overtop of the pass. I just finished filling out the online appeal form, and I have to wonder if this is some really un-funny April Fool’s joke.