There are 10 kinds of people in the world: those who understand binary, and those who don't.

January 26, 2004

I had a dream last night that there was a very large bag of macaroni in my freezer. The only reason I mention it here is that for some reason, I was very concerned about this particular bag of macaroni - so much so that it was the most vivid part of the dream. I knew that I had to consume it before it went bad, but I had no idea what to do with some 4-5 kilos of cooked macaroni.

Looking back at this paragraph, I realize it appears to be a whole lot more banal than I intended it to be, but there it is. I mean, I was upset by this bag of macaroni ominously hanging out in my freezer. I awoke in the middle of the night, my skin slick with sweat - and my first thought?

"Thank god I don't have to deal with that bag of macaroni."

I'm having nightmares about pasta. That can't be good.

***

In other news: some quality 404. You'll need your speakers for this one.

January 20, 2004

Has it already been a week since last I was here? Hardly seems possible - yet at the same time, I'm hardly surprised. It isn't that I don't have anything to say - quite the opposite in fact: if you were to catch me at any given moment, I know I'd have all kinds of quips and observations for you. I just don't seem to have the energy wherewithal to translate these ephemeral ideas into interesting turns of phrase upon the page.

I can find no real reason for this apathy; I cannot explain how it came to be that something I once felt so passionately about has been left by the wayside for so long. I am like an unkempt garden, my carefully planted flowerbeds overrun with chaotic weeds.

Well, no. Not quite so moribund. More like a pirate marooned by the malicious crew of the HMS Logolepsy - left on an island with endless reams of paper, but with no quill to record my thoughts. And so I amuse myself by cutting paper dolls with my cutlass and making origami to pass the time. And therein lies the crux of the problem - why should I concern myself with writing, when there are so many distractions to while away the many hours of the day? I have long held that the present is truly the only moment that matters - the past is already gone and the future does not exist - so why is it that this sense of immediacy I have achieved does not satisfy? How is it that all I feel is the days slipping by with no sense of purpose or accomplishment?

And then a sip of whiskey, and all these thoughts are washed away.

January 13, 2004

I was recently forwarded a questionnaire from a travel magazine based in the UK with instructions from my boss to fill it out and send it back. In my current role as Administrative Assistant Extraordinaire, I am somewhat accustomed to such requests, but was dismayed to note that the information requested rivals my report on the Shikoku Intrusion in its complexity. As some of you are well aware, I do have a penchant for playing with numbers, but usually only in my own good time and under my own constraints. At first glance, I thought it might be an entertaining way to spend an afternoon. Upon reading that I was expected to provide data for such facts as the number of student weeks in 2003 split by nationality and reported quarterly.

Now, I'm sure a lot of you out there are thinking "that's not so bad" or "all he has to do is run a query in the management database system (MDS) and he'll be done in no time". Would that that were the case. See, classes at our institution start and finish every week, meaning students basically come and go as they please, some staying for 3 months, some staying for a week. Add this to the fact that our MDS is still under construction and suddenly this ain't no small potatoes no more. Just for kicks, let's compound this with the additional fact that our students are not filed by nationality, nor even by starting date - they're filed by invoice number.

Are you still with me? In a nutshell, I was expected to go through all of the invoices, picking out all of the enrollment dates by hand and then trying to figure out nationality based solely upon the student's name. This, as one might expect, would take a very long time. Astute readers might have caught the use of the phrase 'was expected to' in the sentence above. I plan to fudge the better part of this affair.

However, before reaching the fudge-making decision, I was able to garner a few statisitics that you might find interesting:

• Total number of enrollments for 2003: 687 students
• Average length of stay: 6 weeks
• Total number of student hours taught: 136736
• Average number of hours taught per student per week: 2681
• Total number of student weeks taught to students over age 50: 0.1286
• Total number of student weeks taught to students under age 15: 0.0086
• Percentage of applications received over the internet: 0.1%

Come to think of it, you probably won't find these figures interesting. It's been a long day.

January 9, 2004

Nothing like a little layout renovation when you're on the clock.

January 7, 2004

So. I recently realized the seven deadly sins don't include falsehood in their number. I have no real explanation as to why this suddenly dawned upon me, but there it is. I'd like to think that there would be some sort of penalty for deceit and deception, but it seems that as long as you're not lying in the pursuit of covetousness, envy, gluttony, lust, pride, sloth or wrath, you're good to go.

In all fairness, this is not the most feasible of endeavours, but there are certainly situations where this must occur. Giving a stranger false directions, for example. Would this constitute wrath? As the person affected is unknown to the speaker, then this lie could surely not be spoken out of spite - just as maliciousness and wrath can surely not be of the same ilk. What of the oft-spoken "No, those don't make you look fat" or "I don't mind staying late" responses? No man I know is thinking lustful thoughts at that particular juncture, just as I'm sure no employee is thinking "I'm the greatest worker ever" as their boss turns away. What of putting fake names in guestbooks, or of making up an answer when a child asks a difficult question? Even if one discounts all those statements that get classified as 'little white lies', there is a glut of prevarications that remains. Ergo:

lie - n., vb. lied; lying [Middle English lien, from Old English leogan; akin to Old High German liogan, Old Slavic lugati]

1. to make an untrue statement with intent to deceive


2. to create a false or misleading impression : to affect by telling lies (he managed to lie his way out of trouble.)
3. a: an assertion of something known or believed by the speaker to be untrue with intent to deceive
   b: an untrue or inaccurate statement that may or may not be believed true by the speaker
4. something that misleads or deceives
5. a charge of lying

synonyms: LIE, PREVARICATE, EQUIVOCATE, PALTER, FIB shared meaning element: to be untruthful

To wit: whether consciously or not, intentionally or not; according to the definition, should a person utter a falsehood of any sort, they can be held to be a liar. Now, it just so happens that a little research turned up the observation that 'a lying tongue' is 'an abomination unto the Lord'. (In the Christian ethic, anyway. Not that I wish to exclude any other belief systems from the discussion or to discount any other religious dogma, but I figure that since I started in the biblical neck of the woods, I should stick with the theme.) So I suppose that in the end, the bases are covered. I still can't help but feel that it should be a deadly sin - with a slightly more relaxed definition, perhaps.

There were more thoughts, but they got lost on the way home.