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Archive for February, 2002

deans…

Wednesday, February 27th, 2002

Are all Computer Science Deans Assholes or is it just me?

I am working on a project for my Language Processors class; modifying a Parser and a Lexer to work, they took the short circute bool’s, the for loop, and the switch statement out of the language and we have to put it back in. Now a lot of people have been posting questions on how to get the for loop stuff to work (thats the first part of the projects) to the class discussion site. Well in my infinite wisdom I hacked together a solution that worked but involved changing the input files (adding one word to the definition of the for loops) I thought that maybe this had just been left out by accident, because without it the for loops look just like c/c++ for loops. So I posted an explanation of my hack to the website, with the question: “Is this right?” Well, an hour latter there is a reply from the teacher, who is the dean, which consists of a single line: “Maybe it’s your for loop semantic definition thats wrong?” Am I the only one who detects a note of sarcasm here? It would not be too bad except this is not the first sign that Dean Bolton has his head stuck somewhere between his sphincter and his spleen — in class, if you come in late he stops class the tell you not to do it because you are disrupting class, he does not seem to realize that HE is the one disrupting class and that if he would just shut his mouth and keep teaching none of us would have felt there was any interruption. Also, while his lectures are good, he seams to be a ok lecturer, his home work and lab assignments don’t seam to be understandable. Argh! Oh well, at least he does teach class, not like Dean Hamburger at Mason — he just hold a one person discussion about what he is going to teach in class, and the only person invited to the discussion is himself!

fuck

Friday, February 22nd, 2002

I’ve just had a shitty fucking day to end a fucking horrible week, which comes at the end of a fucking bad month!

My course work was late, because of bad network at school, shitty compatibility between windows/linux, bad implementation of eps in windows (take your pick) and being late means 10 points off of an already bad project because I was sick out of my mind while doing it. In fact I have not been out of my dorm except to turn in the two course works and eat all week. A bird shit on my jacket while I was walking back from the University, my cold is still fucking with me, and I found out that since last night the girl that I had a crush on is dating the guy two doors down from me. I don’t know why this bothers me so much, because I knew there was no chance of her dating me. But it still seams to be bothering me. To top all that off I found out that a guy I have known since I was eleven dropped dead on Valentines day! And I have a list of about 4 people who want me to fix their computers again. I have fixed about 10 in the past two days, people should just leave their fucking computers alone. They should realize when they don’t know what the fuck they are doing and just leave well enough the fuck alone!

I’m tired of being Mr. nice, Mr. grown up, Mr. has the answers to other peoples problems. I just don’t really give a shit about other peoples issues right now, because I hate to tell them — they don’t fucking know what issues are!!!

Fuck it all!

–insert title here.–

Friday, February 15th, 2002

Valentines day was a real bummer… nuff said.

I finished the Brothers Karamazov last week, it is an am amazing book. The more Dostoevsky I read the more I see why his is considered one of the best writers ever. His books are filled with review, insight, criticism and adoration for the human condition.

I read Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist after that. It only took a few hours, it’s not too long and the language is simple and easy to read. That a good thing, I needed something simple and short after the 800 pages of Brothers K. But The Alchemist is a beautiful story about life. The main lessons I got from it where that one has to leave home to find home and take a chance on life. And that the answers are there we just have to stand back, take a breath and look for them. Life will take us where we need to go.

I read Watership Down in three days. I love that book. It is filled with morals and ethics, life and death. But like Tolkien’s Lord of the Ring trilogy, you have to read between the lines to see it. Richard Adams does not push it in your face, it reads like a myth; at times funny, tragic, depressing, heart warming — it talks of life.

I am currently reading The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood. I am only a little way in, but it is a very interesting story. Unfortunatly it will be a while before I finish… I have a lot of Coursework due next week…

Haveing no luck finding a job in Europe…

das ende

Monday, February 11th, 2002

What do you do when your whole world comes crashing down around you?
One day the sky is blue and clear.
Then a few cracks appear.
“No problem” you think, “I can fix those.”
Then before you can fix anything, the cracks become holes,
large chunks of your sky now block your path,
and above only darkness.
What do you do when your whole world comes crashing down around you?
It takes years to rebuild…

what do I do?

Sunday, February 10th, 2002

I was sitting in the Pheasant last night with some of the Girls from Hayworth Hall and this guy came up to our table.

“Hello,” he said, “you all look like nice college type men and women.”

“Yea, we go to City,” we all replied nodding our heads.

“Excuse me I am a little pissed, (NB: British for drunk \beggs) but I have a question for you.”

“Ok, I said.”

“If you can answer this question you’ll be up there with some of the most intelligent people. So the question is what do I do? I have the most unique job in the world, there is no job as unique as mine, they make documentaries about it.”

“Ummm…”

“I one asked a lawyer in New York this question and he is the only one to answer it correctly. I work in central London, and have the most unique job in the world.”

“You own a pub, this pub?” I asked.

“No, you can own a pub anywhere, what I do is unique to London.”

He then proceeded to repeat the story about the lawyer and his job being unique. And somewhere along the line I realized I have heard a similar discourse before.

“Your a taxi driver in central London.” I said.

“That’s right! I knew you where an intelligent bloke.”

A few more quick words on Jazz and he shuffled off around the bar. Then Patrizia turned to me and asked me how I knew the answer…

“He sounded like a New York Taxi driver I once had the pleasure of riding with.”