useless garbage

this is a website where I will post useless garbage that has little to no bearing on reality. also, I'm not gonna use too many capitol letters. maybe I'll have other fun/groovy stuff.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

thinking

first I would like to ammend my last entry by saying that I love Herbie Hancock, I got lost in multiple negatives

I am thinking about:
laundry
time dilation
coffee
ankle hurts
cgi units
maxwell's demon
using energy for forgetting
h-bar fuzzing light cones
causality and antiparticles
its hot
after next week I will only have one yellow shirt
I only have one green shirt
wireless mouse
grey shirts and grey pupon
french fries
coffee in my house and coffee makers
espresso makers
discreetization and setting delta t = 1
intelligent design
firefox vs ie
cats vs dogs
allergies
speed

and more

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

red orange yellow green blue indigo violet

trying to remember. Filling myself with ideas, normalcy, punctuation. Jelatenous freemartins rummage hopelessly through your trash. You shake a stick, shouting, "scrounge somewhere else, we have enough. the trash does not make the man, the man makes the trash. Bicycles, ladders, wooden boards and fences, general garbage, filth, home. On with you toward mountaintops and streetcars. Eureka, cartharsis, tingling with tragedy and glory"
the reply, "we don't come to harm you. We treat the symptom, not the disease. We cause cancer in rats. We don't measure response times. We use (n-1) in the divisor of standard deviation because we can only estimate the mean. You look on us with distain? we look on you with pity. What you throw away we cherish. What you deny we uphold. What you furnish we scrub. What you decorate we paint. When you hammer, we chisel. You and I are not so different"
Differences are only skin deep. Skin is only skin deep. Flesh differences are flesh deep. Blood differences are blood deep.
Everyone needs to uphold something. Finishing nails uphold the tapestry on my wall. Except the top right corner. They have failed. Like communism failed and democracy will fail. Like the leafs fail to win the stanley cup again and again. Like Herbie Hancock fails to not be sucky.
I find souldseek mediocre so far. What the hell is port forwarding?

Monday, January 29, 2007

ok

Ok,
I am back to this again. Its been a while. So I've got a lot of shit to rant about.

First of all, antiparticles? Einstein would be rolling in his shallow unmarked grave. Special relativity was only meant to be taken so far. We should just give up and move into tepees.

Second of all, I speant this entire weekend listening to radiohead, reading webcomics, and now (although the weekend is over) writing in a blog. I should be lined up and shot.

meh; I don't really feel like ranting

right now my back is a little sore and my ankle hurts. I wonder if pain would be better if it was symmetrical. and would that be radial symmetry or bilateral symmetry?

snow that is crunchy because it got freezing-rained on is great. Lets all smile about it

I got a new blog a while ago and then forgot

Also I forgot about my old blog

this is the first post from my new blog, which is now going in my old blog, which is my new, new blog


Saturday, August 20, 2005

good morning
Good morning to all. I say this at seven o'clock at night for a specific reason. I felt like lying in a way that didn't bother anybody.About me:I have a structure complicated by anatomical noise,my socks are not topologically equivalentsometimes I string together ideas in an irrelevant incoherent mannersometimes I use metephors in everyday speech without explaining myselfI don't beleive in realityHere's to me not getting bored of this:(usually something useful follows a colon, I for one prefer to giggle at the word colon)(my uncle died of colon cancer)
posted by dannyboytward @ 3:28 PM

Anonymous said...
Man but you are up your own butt.
10:17 AM

Saturday, June 25, 2005

here I am

Here I am, with nothing to do... So like moths to a flame, or flames to the gay pride march, or march to april, not the month but the one with the fingernails that sound like a cat's would sound if they made noise, I return to this blog even though everyone has long since stopped reading it.
It is useless, but its a welcome change from giving my friends sex-changes with cheap software, or listening to my vocorded self say 'nothing can come between us' through an infinite number of different filters. Highpass, lowpass, bandpass, and my alltime favorurite timewaster: the notch filter. It cuts out, everything but one tiny range of frequencies, or cuts one tiny range of frequencies out of anything.
And I think to myself: "I wonder what a fourrier transform of a bandpass filter would looklike" but it wouldn't look very interesting, thats why we have fourrier transformations, to simplify things.
Mathematically its easy to simplify things, and its easy to reach a point where you can prove nothing else can be simplified. In reality (my second favourite kind of math), its even easier because of the awesome power of denial. We can glance over as many details as we chose and observe something as simple as we desire. Even something as profoundly unpationate as that isn't safe from the rigours of barbaric statistical analysis.
I wonder what a fourrier transform of my life would like. Hopefully it could be plotted as a straight line on Gaussian deveate axes, and be uniquely defined by only two parameters. Mother and father? Maybe I'll write about statistical decision theory and receiver operating characteristic curves some other time. Writing's not as fun as it could be, but it's more fun than it couldn't be. Especially that one time.
I leave with this note:
(tward et al, 2005)

or so it seems

Saturday, April 09, 2005

guitar

I got a guitar

it is fake mohogany colour

also it has 6 strings

Sunday, February 27, 2005

ow

my back hurts

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

shut up

so many fuckers complain about how the world isn't perfect. shut up!! nothing is perfect and nothing ever will be. complain about something useful, or at least something that is possible. like hungry children or mustard that squirts out of the bottle too fast. perfection doesn't exist, if it did, it would make me wrong, which therefore, would be imperfect , because in a perfect world no one would ever be wrong. HA I win