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|Thursday, June 16th, 2016|
we let the armchair philosopher run the intern program. day in day out of lectures. he's long made makes philosophical stands without knowing any of the codebase, objecting on principle against perceived enemies. the scope is always narrow, and injecting reality and context is hotly shot down. it's always very specific wedges, very singular issues, context free points to jab out from, to not-acknowledge others across. and it's getting worse; is he's drunk on this power of being listened to? i feel bad for the interns, for being subject of his psychic vampirism, in the working world and again subject to lecturers. i worry for us, for the group, as the ego expands.
|Tuesday, May 3rd, 2016|
room is chaotic mess, looks covered in shit i didn't know i had. which is crazy, because it's been two (very modest) car-loads out of here. demoralizing. there's a lot of well tucked away and racked shit that's moved. the rest of the room has come off the shelves and is hanging out, floating about, waiting for it's somewhat expensive clear plastic upgrade from the cardboard boxes the loose affairs would traditionally get packaged into.
my sense of dread & foreboding is high. i dunno. i'm paying a little less, living with considerably more people, from a smaller place facing a similarly medium-duty treelined street. i have a porch. the neighboring houses are much closer than across the massive boulevard i look out across now. there's no abandoned embassy, no churches, no temple next door, it's just residential blocks. i'd entertained notions of setting up my wifi perch from my porch, but on the further reaches it's kind of a dead zone- a gas station, one of the best funky all-colors bars in town (it seems personable and normal, not trying hard for a (normative) a-normativity). over email and through small warning it seems the landlord is somewhat unruly but gracefully absent. originally i thought the room was big and airy and yes it has high ceilings but the sq footage is not all that vast. one sofa, a recent acquisition, is going to dominate the room.
there's a decent closet (and a small one), also with high ceilings. it'll be quite the work, shelving and packing that. i'd thought it was bigger too. it seems much smaller on second sight. i'd fantasized about two 4 ft long shelves at an L to each other but it's disgustingly silly. i'm going to have to fab up a "wing" shelf, to max the thing out, which, in lame form, i will have to do to not end up living in my junk. so many old projects. three generations of individually controllable RGB LED strip lights, unused. kinect, still boxed. the box of 802.11n wifi era wifi gear, a kit fully of various Marvell Kirkwood based systems- Seagate GoFlex units, iomega iConnects, and the late coming even more underpowered DLink DNS-320s. Two recent MIMO wifi 5Ghz dishes. 3d printer, oscilliscope. Toolbox, cardboard box of tools. ~80 quarts of cables. And old AMD based colo, that I don't even feel like paying the $45/mo for, with 5x "good" 640GB hard drives, a pair of SSD, and the replacement AMD/Sapphire HD4850 w/ 2GB ram, once single slot. An old Core2duo super elegant bamboo laptop got cheap under temptation but no longer good for much, maybe send to mom. A sequence of old laptops- MSI 1561/GX620 with 9600M (512MB), whose structural integrity is so used up that opening it up feels like opening a millenia old holy text. A P1120 that for some reason i have not thrown out, maybe there's data on it. That system was my first laptop. "I suppose conscious evolution" on the top, a dragon, and "live the chaos" in blocktext bold on black on the bottom. At least one Sony Vaio P, woefully under powered too but a better dumb light terminal for it's high-ish res screen and even lighter longer more rectangular form factor, but this one seems unable to survive off battery, even with a cheapo replacement one. This thread does not end. It just keeps going and going and going, weird thing after weird thing.
Servers, two of them: huge 2U units, 8 individual dual cpu computers between them. Tons of ram, sitting unused, depreciating. I want to sell one. I wanted to set one up in Jake's places years ago. A base, a new colo. I wanted to put the DNS-320 in friends places, little micro-data hearts, practically no compute, just some data, a little networking foo. I wanted I wanted I wanted. So many repeated stories. Kinect! I wanted to play with that. A scale model Tiger II tank: once I wanted to put two EDF fans on it to blow leaves, automated yard cleaner. I still pretend someday I'll strap a kinect, two cameras, and a ranger on it, make it some vision hub. Hail Vulkan, &all; our new open OpenCL master-lord.
I bought shelving. In addition to the two 4 ft heavy metal units, I have these I was thinking cheapo, easy to store shelving units where you provide your own 2x4's and it wraps around the upright ones to provide the horizontal bridging. I got a storage unit- huge- because I was afraid, desperate, wanting to be able to take anything. I wish I'd taken anything now. There's no reason to fear this new place but I do. I don't want to move anywhere. Everywhere costs so much. So crazy much. Why does rent sap me? Why are home-owner fees so scary and stupid to me? I found a 200k$ boat at Gangplank Marina and I want it- i want the relatively low morgage. But I can't rent out the other bed, I don't think, practically, so the $800/mo liveaboard fee feels absurd. I've paid less than that in rent most of my rent paying life. Maybe not on average, given some of my stupider, short stints. I paid $2500 for an apartment that I spent 6 mo telling myself I was going to airbnb out, maybe perhaps find a roommate for, but was in a weird place. That's kind of the inflection honestly. I'd sold myself up in the world, done well, whether the pointy-hairs knew or not, with respect from colleagues for amazing deep works, consistently & straight until then. I flipped then. I took a kind of dirtbag job, underjob, doing ops work, and did not culturally fit in though I thought I was ok. Was introducing goodness to that world, not finding space for that try. The external dev team, the longstanding one, took my cues and ran with it: ansible took off, spread like fire, but no one saw that it was me fixing our basic dumb shit. I got like 1 week to set up a Filer before it got offloaded from me and turned into one fracas after another, a shit-show culminating in some huge purchase. For nothing. I got turned back into a dev, which was ok. I got to isolatedly invent event-time processing in Spark: i loved that. my team was enthusiastic, if somewhat deluded by the process-centricity of some Ruby world fantasies. but the whole episode was dirt-bag, a massive under sell of self, working way above my talent-class with little reinforcement for quite considerably less pay at way longer a commute than was sensible. And I took that stupid expensive apartment, unbelievably out of proportion expensive if I was going to keep deluding myself that the money delta was just around the corner, that I'd airbnb. Maybe roomie if I had to. It's merciful my landlord kept not telling me what the story was until the 23rd hour, that she jacked my rent (beyond legal limits I now know) and signalled to me the GTFO.
I did. I peaced. I want to peace again. Its been a long time since I've cruised ebay and craigslist for the cheap, nice, awesome sprinter vans. There's one now for $9000 that itches, just itches for me. I for it. Pre the new urea-injection fuel-burning "clean" diesel era. Quite near. I want to fuck off. Pay 3/5 as much rent, periodically, camp, do the code thing. I have some small moneys now. I don't want to burn it. I'm almost close to a down payment, a sizable one. I don't think the PMI makes that much difference, but i'm such a cheapskate- I want the economics to not just be ok but to make out. Take a tenant, have them pay a good part of it, skate on for 2 years. Figure it out from there. I want the footloose time, direly, badly, being a cheapass and doing well, writing good software, building a more than financial, a personal, brand base for a time, working contracts and trying to develop independent revenue streams.
It all feels super shitty right now. I'm way above par, way under my expectations. Moving makes it clear. These houses of 20-somethings, me yet still a barely-30 and kind of on an escape, but with such wild variance. The cost of life is too damned high. There's way too much bullshit to live good and well, to have others living good and well with me. I'd such dreams of cybercommunes, of affordable ways of life with others for whom the greater freer idea of the net and the noosphere had captured and compelled wholly. I'm so well paid right now it's unbelievable, but there's so little to compare against, so little ways forward aside from catching an edge on and up. No one understands or believes me now. I have some fanatics who understand me at work, but the top levels- well- i fantasize they got some top-secret word from the leaving founders that I was good but not to be trusted, from some other rank and filers, one's they knew better but who did not trust or understand me, who have so much less experience and wisdom than what I've captured. I feel marginalized, and only partially wanting to reconcile- they don't seem to do much & yet I still loath that public figurehead, not when I don't have that ability to push a forward image so obviously dissolute from ground truth.
I put myself on trial in my 1-on-1 recently, which I frequently readily do to most, open the meta-reflective portal, but for some reason I'd never opened to how lax I've been as a scrummaster before and finally jumped deep into it this time. My own ethics be damned- they've been good recently- I seem to have zero will to question or challenge anyone else in this environment. There's charlatanism all about, everywhere I've been, in varying reigns, but I'm nominally supposed to be making sure this team is applied & doing it's shit. We keep closing ok points, but there's some unbeleivable fucked up nothing going on, and a lot of people making up work for no real reason esp with no real backing. And as scrum-master, facilitator for the team, I've deliberately not raised questions, not pushed. I've let loads of nothing and zilch get by. Any real scrum master would be feet to the hot irons, asking fake quasi ignorant questions designed to probe out WTF while clearly the team just knows the real answer is a fat zero, zilch. I don't want to do that. That fake interest seems so remarkably fake to me, like it's never fooled anyone. I want this responsibility, but my answer, the way I'd go about this, is not polite, not via these team spirited means; I've dealt with so many problematic coders, so many people that I'd jettison- if no one is going to ask me, well, wtf ever. Boat can stay on. I think I'd mantle more than I need to- burn legit cred in public- by trying to fake my team with fake concern and fake help and fake assistance than how any authentic knowing dealing with real problems would happen. There's legit problems with people just making whatever the fuck up, and there's even more legit problems with people just not doing jack nor shit.
Paid super well. Get to do really good, clean, sharp work. Commute slightly longer than preferable. Some mixed feelings about where I've volunteered myself for, somewhat just to keep the team going.
(post 2 hour delayed. hi.)
|Tuesday, April 26th, 2016|
| "I agree that a deeper dig is necessary if it’s so easy for this to happen again."
|Thursday, April 21st, 2016|
|Sunday, November 8th, 2015|
|Tuesday, March 10th, 2015|
War of District Self Rule
Strongarming of A Subterritory
The warfares still only political
|Wednesday, January 28th, 2015|
pop-culture for a good part of the 90's talked of a rise of women leaders. there was already this morbundity in the air for the Great Man near-Ethos uber-alles-ing; more inter-respective forces were on the ascent, those who would better stitch the many pieces together, make a better channel of the forces they're steering forward.
this was just an assumed common notion, a widely existing affirmationalationality that evinced general nodding, ayup. i don't know how that attitude gets captured, what points to the attitude; are we going to remember, do others remember or have that impression, that we'd touchstoned on this assumption.
|Friday, January 16th, 2015|
really want to unload on the newbie that makes awful awful technical decisions.
really want to unload against my good, careful work getting chucked out, and shitty one-at-a-time hacks slowly replicating the serious work, having to percolate through in unplanned socially-exhausting madness.
ugg. other people are hell.
|Wednesday, November 19th, 2014|
shits all broken
amateur hot shots are writing shitty code
the city rejected my first appeal on a ticket for parking without permit when i had a permit
css is unusable as a developer, there's no way to see what is happening. we need traceability.
eventtarget is a miserable useless fucking horrible godforsaken piece of shit for not
push api group is anti-resourceful twats.
and i'm writing stupid tests that suck because people think they help
|Tuesday, October 28th, 2014|
Identity is there to play be played with. Self realization one is merely a preciptant to action- identity is full of sucker punches.
Identificoriums Multifunctionoria, lying amid the folds of the black box radiation that beats and speaks outwards, the heart, playing forth names of it might beat into the air.
Polarity is dangerous people. Allow yourself to be taken out of the swing of things, even if they're headed a direction. Don't root for things. Those things are probably human, or near-humans, and that's gonna be messy business at some point when it tele-connects back at another point. Will it know all the words then? Will it have more rootable qualities? What will temper it in a way that changes way I root for it? What will have changed how I'd have or can or might go for it? Polarity is particles seeking pairs, to move in sync to each other, to lock in to position
|Monday, October 27th, 2014|
The way computing creative artists fall into application with work as compared to an artist with a more physical output
|Sunday, October 26th, 2014|
| For a long time there was this sort of defined canon of American conservatism drawing primarily from agrarianism, Christianity, and an idealized post-war suburban household of a white couple with children, a woman staying at home and a man (probably an ex-soldier) working for a good wage. My argument is that the new right has been moving away from a coherent defense of tradition (as much as that tradition they defended was largely revisionism and stagecraft), defining itself increasingly by the caricatured social forces which it opposes. The fall of Dubya was probably the death nell for the last cartoonish vestiges of American conservatism proper.
- that pharmer
|Wednesday, August 27th, 2014|
I was kind of OK with today being a "spend all the money" day. Some DMV stuff, some credit card pay off, some tea, some batteries (18650 and cellphone), a replacement bluetooth headset (Backbeat 903, lost, good shit).
Except I sent half the days order to a very old address. Erm, whoops. USPS has a package intercept service that's $11/package, but not individual order was over $40. Because: for whatever reason one battery order from one guy was two shipments. Awh frell. I may possibly get the old address to forward me all the stuff- doubtful- but $11 per order is anywhere from a 110% to 40% cost over purchase price.
I re-ordered the essentials, filed a "please change teh destination address" request with all the purchasees (doubtful that'll help, even with the threat of a bad rating, which I may not have the heart to knuckle into), will send a letter tomorrow to the old address and keep fingers crossed- kind of a fracas, this aftermath. All in all these small goods ordered off ebay were a tiny fraction of the day's expenditures. It's not a big thing. But it is one of those defeats, one of those loses that you'd like to be able to patch up, work back into the black, that just leaving it in the red like this- it's sad. And worse, fighting against that red, it seems futile, seems a thing without real hope. The muck of reality has taken over. Power has fallen away from mortal realms, we've all become puppets, pulled on-ward by ancient moments to enact this all too assured tragedy of inability.
Also fuck my lazy ass no good housemates of decades.
Someone said "maybe you're getting to old for housemates," and it's been a bit of a stressor on me recently. Fuck these guys. Fuck their not pitching in, fuck their not trying to better their environments, trying to reduce the shittiness of the world. Fuck these people, their worthlessness at sharing these environments and maintaining them. Sure, maybe I should look more at getting my own place, to protect me from their zone of red, from their nature of vast suckiness. It'd help me, not having interface with the demonstrated negative. But fuck them, and fuck whatever parts of me I let fall to bitterness, whatever part of me I can't push to move beyond the blatantly subhuman and unwilled that they parade and make regular.
|Sunday, August 10th, 2014|
| If you're wondering, I am genuinely not an atheist. Just because we have some high-powered telescopes in orbit around this one sad little planet doesn't mean we know what the fuck is actually going on.
I'm pretty sure things are simple, bland as science has thus found evident, but I keep a pretty active engagement with sci-fi to keep my mind open: tales of the galactic core (and it's occasional crossing paths with backwaters) aren't quite the same as a Loving God, but connection with that pregnancy of possibilities maintains a kind of hope, optimism and general wherewithal against some of the more dreary outlooks that might arise.
Nature put out a soaring piece on some physics anti-big-bang heretic, Hans-Jorg Fahr. The article itself was meh, Fahr is meh, and the efforts to swat it down also somewhat meh, but it did bring me back to a piece by one of the pro- We-Know people that talked about cosmogony, and how, in spite of not knowing so much, there are so many reinforcing, supporting, and interlocking measurements that tell us- even if we were missing massive pieces of the big picture- we have vastly different ways of getting ourselves to the same result as far as knowing what's going on, in the amassed sense. Brian Koberlein:http://briankoberlein.com/2014/03/24/primeval-atom/https://plus.google.com/+BrianKoberlein/posts/6xhvhr6bWeY
But someplace between cosmogenesis and this one sad little planet, there's a lot of room for mystery. And perhaps it's not even as simple as this view of this place, perhaps perhaps. I tend towards picking up Zoroastrian, gnostic, sufist, or Thelemic texts or scholastic works when I think of travels beyond this realm: if there is a great beyond, it's not for that that we find ourselves here, that is the definition of us: surely there's an existence to us, here that justifies us or here or at least can be meaning against the din, against the littleness, against the sad. And questing for what small mortal glory and self-knowledge lies within us is an obvious path, one I read of gladly, taking hope and courage (if not faith).
Yesterday I listened to a book on tape, Kim Stanley Robinson's Black Air- the priest on this galleon of the Fortunate Invincible Spanish Armada kept a small black book, and from it, a nice drawing together of the above, couching from the Meditations on Samekh and the Holy Guardian Angel (offering it here after having it come so recently seems only to due, if indeed overly severe):
"I assume the appearance of a refiner’s fire, purging the dross of forms outworn. This is mine aspect of severity; I am as one who testeth gold in a furnace. Yet when thou hast been tried as by fire, the gold of thy soul shall be cleansed, and visible as fire: then the vision of thy Lord shall be granted unto thee, and seeing Him shall thou behold the shining one, who is thine own true self."
Thanks, as ever Siam & wide range of experience; a good short prompt.
(Tab-span between prompt and this paste: 18 tabs! My gosh!)
|Monday, August 4th, 2014|
great... not even on vacation yet & already being bossed around by parent about the chores i'm expected to do.
|Sunday, August 3rd, 2014|
"conclusions that follow tend only to affirm our worst suspicions—that, to borrow Thomas Ligotti’s perfect phrase, the universe is not just meaningless, but malignantly useless.”"
|Wednesday, July 30th, 2014|
I've been in tech a long time. I appreciate my companies, my coworkers, my management. And yet: never has leadership been truly visionary. Leadership isn't the one's who point the way. It's the one's making clear the cause.
|Sunday, July 20th, 2014|
Just got a decent sized pack of electronics/robotics goodies in prep for NodeBots day: motor controllers of various sorts, wireless comms links, dc-dc converters, small/cheap gearmotors/wheels, maybe one or two other things in the pack. 802.15.4 modules were < $1.00, ha, wow, I feel super slow/behind.
I'm both shocked and amazed. There's a L298N dual bridge module that, in hindside, is not nearly as useful/interesting as a quad half-bridge &c, but w/e: it's a big honking chip, with a small but non-zero sized heatsink. It goes up to 46V and 4A.
Last night I ordered a batch of TI CSD97374Q4M's: each chip is effectively a half bridge, capable of 15A and 30V. It's marketed a DC buck converter, but it's a half bridge. I intend to try to use it in another application, and I know I know very little, but it's specs read to me as being quite useful for what I'm looking for, and given how much more massive it is than the L298N, I tend to think this much smaller, affordable, energy conscious chip, in spite of having it's own market called out (& being a bit wrong/over-specific) is just shockingly far in advance of the old L298N motor driver. And it scales up: another $1.20/chip and there are 45, 60A versions, nearly the same, with the same gate-level run drive-logic integration that a chip like the L298N motor drive/pre-drive would once have been so attractive for having. So long as one is OK at half the voltage- hell yeah new stuff.