This is the kind of hard-hitting, in-depth writing that is making web logs a force in online journalism...

"Screenshots of toilets in different video games"

via: kottke.org

Mark, a loser?

Lets see: up late on a Saturday night (1:51 AM), he needs to be up at 8:00 AM to pick mom up at train station. Instead of sleeping or doing massive amounts of cocaine while a group of others (Male/Female) snort said cocaine from body, is instead reading the XML User Interface Language (XUL) 1.0 specification.

Let the good times roll!

Fueled by Gina's interest in htdig, I made a few updates to search today, mainly updated some templates to return result data in xml, which allows me to be more flexible with the result presentation.

Here's the search data DTD if you are interested (...knowing of course you are not). exciting, I know...

Riding home on the R train the other night, when six teenagers step on the train, two girls and four boys...

BOY 1: (annoyed) why can't you remember to bring my shorts.
BOY 2: why should i get tested?
GIRL 1: (on BOY 1's arm) I forgot...I'm sorry.
BOY 2: I ain't gonna get tested.
GIRL 2: you gots to get tested...thats fucked up!
BOY 1: you think if you cared about somebody you'd remember their shorts.
BOY 2: what that fuck does that mean...ok, if she gets tested, I will.
GIRL 1: (annoyed) I just forgot, OK. I mean...I got all this shit to remember in the morning...
BOY 1: (to everyone on the train but GIRL 1) you'd think if you cared about someone, you'd remember their shorts...thats all.
GIRL 2: she slept with (insert teenage boys name), and he's all dirty and shit, not to mention (another boys name here), and he's all sorts of dirty, and its like you slept with all of them now.
BOY 2: what the fuck are you talking about...I ain't getting tested...fuck.
GIRL 1: you got to get tested...your so fucked up...really!
BOY 1: I'm just sayin' I'd remember them for you.
GIRL 1: what?
BOY 1: my shorts...fuckin', really.
GIRL 1: I FORGOT, ok...fuck!
BOY 3: hey, you guys know if try outs are closed for first string yet?
BOY 4: shakes head unknowingly...
BOY 2: if she gets tested I will.
GIRL 2: what does that have to do with anything...your so damned stupid.
BOY 2: fuck that...
BOY 4: she is kinda dirty and shit...
BOY 2: what the fuck are you talking about.
BOY 4: shakes head unknowingly, I'm just saying...thats all.
BOY 2: shut the fuck up...ok...
GIRL 2: he's right.
BOY 1: she's kinda dirty dude.
GIRL 2: nods...gets up...here's the stop.


BOY 4, 3 and GIRL 2 get off the train.

BOY 1: who do you think was the first one born with aids...I'm mean that shit had to start somewhere...someone was born with it...
GIRL 1: (looks on in disbelief)
BOY 2: naw, that shit started in africa..some fucked up dudes fucking monkeys and shit...
BOY 1 and GIRL 1: (shake heads...)
BOY 2: lots of dudes fuck sheep and shit...well some dudes anyway...farmers and shit laying down with sheep.
BOY 1 and GIRL 1: (still shaking heads)
BOY 2: thats how that shit gets started...its true...

Uther takes a weekend in the country...

NOTE: boring, completely non-relevant technical content follows:

The man pages in RedHat 8 are in UTF-8 format (Unicode).

The following should solve the problem; In /etc/sysconfig/i18n change LANG="en_US.UTF-8" to LANG="en_US"

Now I will always know where to find you...my sweet little term fix.

Brian just informed me that the correct zipcode for 'The Pill' is actually 55417. NOTE: never trust what you read...never!

update:

blmichelich: ... *especially* on the Pill.

It's discouraging to see the number people who care little about elections, or the people they elect. There are a fair number of people I know who do not vote, and other people vote for movie stars or wrestlers. The number of people who feel disenfranchised and those who are indifferent are alarmingly high. I say this mostly for myself, democracy is not free, and it does not come easy. It takes work and an expense of energy and time. It takes hope, and a desire to make change in this world. We can work, relax on the weekend, watch TV, care for our children, go about living our lives, but these acts alone do not guarantee freedom and liberty, and these acts alone do not fuel democracy. Freedom is not a gift or a give in, history dictates this simple fact.

I have to come clean...the truth is I have been lying to you. Having stated that 'The Pill' is located in Brooklyn New York, I have deceived. The truth is that the very heart and soul of the pill, the essence, lives in Minneapolis, MN, over one thousand miles from Brooklyn. I, only a servant to 'The Pill', live in Brooklyn. 'The Pill' is an entity far greater than I, and I can only pretend that I control it in some way, but really it controls me...and someday, maybe, all of you too.

I guess I can take some solace in the fact that this time I don't live in the state that voted for the idiot actor...

What happened to the basic idea that we the people vote for the brightest, best and most qualified in society to govern. Not that Arnold isn't qualified, I mean he can grope the crap out of women, and he can bench like...a lot...But then again, I imagine the image of idiocy the president has presented to the american people has lowered the bar a tad...

I have been in a bit of a funk lately...depressed, deprived, deranged...I could try and resolve these emotional troubles, or I could engulf myself in a mindless project to avoid the truths and pains of the real world.

I'll pick door number two Bob.

Bitter Pill locator

Sage? Saint? Lunatic?

Walking home last night I succumbed at Manny's Pizzeria. I've been trying to avoid pizza because, well, I just can't stop eating pizza. I was so damned hungry, I lost all will to refute my pizza cravings. I strolled into Manny's trying to remain calm and wiping the drool from my face and shirt.

INT Manny's Pizzeria Night

Two men stand inside talking.

COUNTER MAN stands behind the counter. He seems like he's more than an employee. He's an owner maybe, or a son of the owner. He's a short Italian man, with a cop mustache, and thinning brown hair.

CUSTOMER stands at the counter. He is a large dark Italian man. He has thick black hair slicked back over his head. He is very tall and wide, must be at least 280 lbs. He's wearing a dark blue warm up suit with a New York Yankees emblem on the breast.

MARK a hungry duffus urbanite, walks in and stands at the counter.

There is a talk radio show playing loudly from the speakers in the ceiling. The announcer sounds very much like Rush Limbaugh, maybe his very Christian younger brother. He is smug, arrogant and crammed full of 'The Truth'

RADIO VO God will wipe the earth of the godless sinners, cleanse the earth of lawlessness and filth...

COUNTER MAN (Strong Brooklyn Accent) I think he'll like it, he's a tough kid...

CUSTOMER (Stronger Accent) Thats the one Chuck Norris trained on before he did Octagon, he used it for years before he released it publicly. You see that movie, he was a fucking bad ass.

CM yea, fucking kicked ass

CUSTOMER bad ass.

CM turns to new customer

CM what can I get you buddy?

MARK is looking at a piece of paper tacked to the wall. Scrawled in rough handwriting is written, "If you don't like it, get the fuck out of our country."

MARK uhh...can I get a slice, please

CM sure...you gonna eat it now?

MARK uh, yea...

CM turns and throws a cheese slice into the oven

RADIO VO ...all sinners will be purged from the earth, and god shall...

CM (looking up at the radio speaker on the ceiling) I love this kinda shit

CUSTOMER nods

MARK notices a 'Jesus Loves You' bumper sticker affixed to the Pizza oven, and nods as well, if a bit nervously.

CUSTOMER turns and points at a polaroid of a man holding a pie. The man in the photo is standing behind the counter at Manny's. He is a black man, and has a big smile on his face.

CUSTOMER (his accent seems to get stronger at every waking moment) would you look at that (laughs), he looks like a fuckin' rapper or something.

MARK imagines all black men look like rap stars to this guy. He shuffles feet uncomfortably.

CM nods, and checks to see if the slice is done.

MARK looks on hopefully as the CM slips the spatula under the slice, but its not done.

CUSTOMER you should get a shot of your dad up in here

CM nods as he listens more intently to the radio

RADIO VO ...into the fires of hell...

CUSTOMER He's probably afraid to put one up 'cause he's wanted in Palermo from thirty years ago.

CM and MARK look quizzically at the customer.

CM checks slice again, but still not done.

MARK stares nervously out the front door and thinks, "If you don't like it, get the fuck out..."

A pregnant pause passes that seems to last an hour. It's really only a half a minute.

CM pulls the slice from the oven and slides it onto a paper plate. Drool starts to pool in the corner of MARK's mouth, again.

CUSTOMER slides a tray of assorted spices, cheese and salt across the counter.

MARK nods in thanks.

EXT 5th ave, Brooklyn, outside of Manny's Pizza, Night

MARK walks out of the pizzeria and crams the slice down his throat before he gets half a block.

Radio VO (in the distance) ...redeem thyself, or face eternal damnation...

I have nothing to post here. I am an empty vessel in regards to 'the pill'. It's not that I have a sad empty little life (or at least I am hoping it's not so completely obvious that I do...err...don't...whatever), it's that I can't seem to relate said life to the pill as of late. So, preempting your regularly scheduled programming, I offer up this empty drivel. Tune in next week where Mark expounds more about absolutely nothing.