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Joined 1 year ago
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Cake day: June 12th, 2023

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  • I got hit in college with a virus 30 years ago; a couple dozen of us, but they couldn’t figure out the common carrier that got us all. Anyway, the damage to the vestibular system was permanent and it was a month or two before I could cope.

    The brain has a vestibulo-ocular reflex that picks up when the vestibular is out. It uses the eyes and the horizon as a backup/correction to the bad data from the vestibular. Can confirm it works really well.

    … except when I’m really tired, like today. Bedspins while sober, and if I look up then I’m dizzy. It’s super-great. But it works to remind me I’m over-doing it, and it usually resolves after a few days of good rest. until then, I just have to be careful lest I walk a bit like a bat-spin player.

    In short, ya get used to it.







  • I keep hoping someone will come up with a half-measure that looks like ipv4 with an extra octet and writable in hex.

    • Let people stew a bit on their 00c0a8011f IP which is like a 192.168.1.31 IP.
    • increment the big number. Oh shit, we’ve got lots.
    • repeat
    • start adding the cool parts of ipv6
    • moar
    • add a 00 to the end that old shit just skips
    • somewhere in there, switch the engine

    We can either take yeeeears to do it well, or we can take more decades to try and big-bang it. This ain’t 1983.







  • In December '94 I was running through Banff at a speed that was ridiculous for winter driving even before we consider it was a white '91 geo metro and 1am in a snowstorm.

    And there it was. But, night-zoned and lulled by the hyperspace homage in snowflakes lit by the headlights, the first thing I saw was just a series of knees.

    “Oh fuckfuckfuck,” said my brain to itself as I executed a classic Moose Check maneuvre at an ungodly rate of speed in absolutely unsuitable conditions, missing the moose by a distance smaller than the amount of caring our conservative political candidate really has for the plebes he wants to manage for fun and profit.

    After an interminable series of fishtails from trying to straighten up after going nearly sideways on the slippery roads in the blizzardy dark in a frightenly remote part of the highways, in a car that wouldn’t be seen in the ditch or ravine by searchers or passers-by until some later Spring, I managed through luck and wordless appeals to a capricious god to straighten the attitude of the car and keep it on the roadway.

    And my future wife woke up in the passenger seat and asked what was going on, sleepily wondering why the turns are so sharp and why I’m cursing.

    “It’s fine; but I saw a moose back there. Really close, too!”