The cat decided that this morning was a good morning to take up the habit of attacking my feet as they moved around under the blanket. At five, six, and six-thirty when I finally got up.
And proceeded to step on the cat.
Ahh, justice.
2007-12-26
2007-12-25
Food poisoning..
...I think it was the cheese. I'm not sure. I'm not sure I care, actually.
It's in my sinuses. Bleugh.
Next time, just shoot me. It'll be more pleasant for everyone involved...
It's in my sinuses. Bleugh.
Next time, just shoot me. It'll be more pleasant for everyone involved...
Oh, and, yes...
...Merry Christmas.
To balance the evil in the last post, I'd like to say that I spent part of my day at a shelter, organizing gifts, and food packages for the less fortunate. It's... rather disheartening to think that even with such an outpouring of support in the holidays, it's never really enough. Spent several hours walking between shelves of foodstuffs a few feet taller than I am. (Some of you who know me will at this point remark about how I'm rather short; too bad this is a public service announcement, fuck you very much :).
Might go back tomorrow. Might just stay in my apartment. Not really sure. The world is generally cold out there, and I still have wars to fight in here. In this, my digital world, for the analog is elsewhere.
I've called her The Analog. Referring to the lack of digitization in her physical being. However, I find a dual meaning for that statement. She is my analog, as well. We're so very alike, and yet so distinct. I really enjoy that fact - that we can speak the same language, and read the pages in each others books. I'm often overwhelmed that she's so much more sophisticated than I am, but she wears it so well.
I miss you, Lindsay; truly I feel that much more alone, knowing you're not around the corner.
To balance the evil in the last post, I'd like to say that I spent part of my day at a shelter, organizing gifts, and food packages for the less fortunate. It's... rather disheartening to think that even with such an outpouring of support in the holidays, it's never really enough. Spent several hours walking between shelves of foodstuffs a few feet taller than I am. (Some of you who know me will at this point remark about how I'm rather short; too bad this is a public service announcement, fuck you very much :).
Might go back tomorrow. Might just stay in my apartment. Not really sure. The world is generally cold out there, and I still have wars to fight in here. In this, my digital world, for the analog is elsewhere.
I've called her The Analog. Referring to the lack of digitization in her physical being. However, I find a dual meaning for that statement. She is my analog, as well. We're so very alike, and yet so distinct. I really enjoy that fact - that we can speak the same language, and read the pages in each others books. I'm often overwhelmed that she's so much more sophisticated than I am, but she wears it so well.
I miss you, Lindsay; truly I feel that much more alone, knowing you're not around the corner.
On being a rotten little twat...
So, I'm re-tooling my home network as a gift to myself for Christmas (I'm lame, I know this. It's okay.). There've been a ton of random people around, and the parking lot in my apartment complex is routinely packed. I'm thinking... people visiting for the holidays, right? Right... college students? Laptops? Hmm...
I have a few spare 2.4 GHz decently high-gain antennae around the apartment. Since the project is a strip-and-clip, let's have a little fun, shall we?
Important things to note:
- RoadRunner enters this premises, and terminates at a Linksys WRT54G with hacked firmware.
- The user-serviced network uses a 172.16.253.0 / 24 IP addressing scheme.
- All network backbone equipment uses a different addressing space to protect it from the users.
Part of this reorganization project was to migrate wireless connectivity away from the WRT54G and to a WAP55AG, providing 5.1GHz and 5.8GHz wireless coverage, as a compliment to the 2.4GHz space (is the 2.4 even necessary anymore? I could just go with 802.11A as the production - note to self, acquire 802.11N access point).
From a network security standpoint, I would have first removed the antennae from the new AP, plugged it into a dry-loop segment, configured the security on the device to match the production network, install it, and then allow it to broadcast.
I did not follow my standard security practices. Instead, I opted to add a pair of new, non-protected SSIDs to my production network for a short period of time. linksys-a and linksys-g. These SSIDs were properly gatewayed, and had a direct connection to the 'net. Any college student visiting Auntie Whomever on break would've been able to hit the AP, and hit the net. Good enough, right?
Right.
Within two hours, I had two machines show up in my DHCP clients table with YOUR-Zxxxxxx PC names. Why is this important? Best guess is that these machines are Hewlett-Packard or Compaq (yes, the Hewlett-Packard "Compaq") laptops. The default system name on their image provides the prefix "YOUR", because HP are a bunch of retards. One of these machines is running Windows XP Home, SP1 (??!!), and another is running Windows Vista Home Premium (>.<). The Vista box was a no go - locked down pretty well, actually. Except the blank Administrator password. I was able to get vitals on the machine, but not actually access the data onboard. Ah well. Guess Vista's UAC security model does have it's uses. There were a TON of unprotected services, tho, and a quick look at metasploit revealed that the box could've been tagged. Good thing for them I had another machine to poke with a stick?
The XP Home SP1 box tho, now has a few gigabytes of pornographic material - some of which involving animals - on it. On the desktop. With a batch file in the startup folder that should kick it off when 'Heidi' goes to restart. Oops. Part of HPs image also leaves the actual, honest-to-god 'Administrator' password blank. Blank. The password itself is not 'blank'. It's that the Administrator account has no password. How fucking stupid is that? (This system was also running Norton's SecurePC SystemGuard or whatever it's called.)
This whole network reogranization was driven by a project box which I'd stupidly plugged into the network in order to run WinderZUpdate (lolhax). Yeah, that thing - while having Norton SystemDrag installed - still had more malware than a loose freshman cheerleader. Thankfully, existing security measures prevented the machine from infecting others; one network monitor exists soley to manage the VLANs on production - if malicious activity is detected, it'll drop the port into a nonroutable segment. This explained why the machine all of a sudden disappeared in the middle of a backup. Fucking good-for-nothing Norton. I can't stand people who actually put stock in that bloated shit.
Morals of the story?
- Don't connect to a network that isn't yours. Period.
- Mind your fucking passwords.
- Don't try to protect your 'puter' with useless shitware like Norton.
I have a few spare 2.4 GHz decently high-gain antennae around the apartment. Since the project is a strip-and-clip, let's have a little fun, shall we?
Important things to note:
- RoadRunner enters this premises, and terminates at a Linksys WRT54G with hacked firmware.
- The user-serviced network uses a 172.16.253.0 / 24 IP addressing scheme.
- All network backbone equipment uses a different addressing space to protect it from the users.
Part of this reorganization project was to migrate wireless connectivity away from the WRT54G and to a WAP55AG, providing 5.1GHz and 5.8GHz wireless coverage, as a compliment to the 2.4GHz space (is the 2.4 even necessary anymore? I could just go with 802.11A as the production - note to self, acquire 802.11N access point).
From a network security standpoint, I would have first removed the antennae from the new AP, plugged it into a dry-loop segment, configured the security on the device to match the production network, install it, and then allow it to broadcast.
I did not follow my standard security practices. Instead, I opted to add a pair of new, non-protected SSIDs to my production network for a short period of time. linksys-a and linksys-g. These SSIDs were properly gatewayed, and had a direct connection to the 'net. Any college student visiting Auntie Whomever on break would've been able to hit the AP, and hit the net. Good enough, right?
Right.
Within two hours, I had two machines show up in my DHCP clients table with YOUR-Zxxxxxx PC names. Why is this important? Best guess is that these machines are Hewlett-Packard or Compaq (yes, the Hewlett-Packard "Compaq") laptops. The default system name on their image provides the prefix "YOUR", because HP are a bunch of retards. One of these machines is running Windows XP Home, SP1 (??!!), and another is running Windows Vista Home Premium (>.<). The Vista box was a no go - locked down pretty well, actually. Except the blank Administrator password. I was able to get vitals on the machine, but not actually access the data onboard. Ah well. Guess Vista's UAC security model does have it's uses. There were a TON of unprotected services, tho, and a quick look at metasploit revealed that the box could've been tagged. Good thing for them I had another machine to poke with a stick?
The XP Home SP1 box tho, now has a few gigabytes of pornographic material - some of which involving animals - on it. On the desktop. With a batch file in the startup folder that should kick it off when 'Heidi' goes to restart. Oops. Part of HPs image also leaves the actual, honest-to-god 'Administrator' password blank. Blank. The password itself is not 'blank'. It's that the Administrator account has no password. How fucking stupid is that? (This system was also running Norton's SecurePC SystemGuard or whatever it's called.)
This whole network reogranization was driven by a project box which I'd stupidly plugged into the network in order to run WinderZUpdate (lolhax). Yeah, that thing - while having Norton SystemDrag installed - still had more malware than a loose freshman cheerleader. Thankfully, existing security measures prevented the machine from infecting others; one network monitor exists soley to manage the VLANs on production - if malicious activity is detected, it'll drop the port into a nonroutable segment. This explained why the machine all of a sudden disappeared in the middle of a backup. Fucking good-for-nothing Norton. I can't stand people who actually put stock in that bloated shit.
Morals of the story?
- Don't connect to a network that isn't yours. Period.
- Mind your fucking passwords.
- Don't try to protect your 'puter' with useless shitware like Norton.
2007-12-24
On being called out...
There are some things that I can not yet say here.
On my skin, I can feel the sacrifices of angels. The bittersweet droplets that are her tears. I feel them, vividly, tonight, even though she's so far away. You know what it means.
This space intentionally left cold, and blank. An unspoken truth.
On my skin, I can feel the sacrifices of angels. The bittersweet droplets that are her tears. I feel them, vividly, tonight, even though she's so far away. You know what it means.
This space intentionally left cold, and blank. An unspoken truth.
2007-12-17
onVoid();
I came here with the intent that I might bear what portion of my heart that deserves to see the light of day... and I've found myself bereft of anything useful or worthwhile to commit to this barren wasteland that is the internet.
I've had moments of things I'd like to talk about. Serendipity. Warcraft. Bullshit. There's not enough flesh there to constitute a decent response - the mind will not wrap around a subject long enough.
The sweetest friend I could ever hope to have had a moment of her own in this same fashion not so long ago - she referred to this very practice as 'flinging spaghetti at the wall'. Except, when faced with that wall... I find my pasta cooker has been emptied. I'm not sure where my mind has gone, I hope it's somewhere fun.
"O Lord, thy sea is so great, and my boat so small."
I miss you, Lindsay.
I've had moments of things I'd like to talk about. Serendipity. Warcraft. Bullshit. There's not enough flesh there to constitute a decent response - the mind will not wrap around a subject long enough.
The sweetest friend I could ever hope to have had a moment of her own in this same fashion not so long ago - she referred to this very practice as 'flinging spaghetti at the wall'. Except, when faced with that wall... I find my pasta cooker has been emptied. I'm not sure where my mind has gone, I hope it's somewhere fun.
"O Lord, thy sea is so great, and my boat so small."
I miss you, Lindsay.
2007-11-11
Someone stopped me...
...dead in my tracks the other day, and asked me what it was that I wanted.
I don't know.
I've been living one-day-at-a-time, with no discern able goal to achieve. I know what I'd *like* - things that would be nice to have, and have had done. Material possession is far overrated, so the things I'd like to 'have' are more like a consistent stream of intangible elements, for what sense that that might make.
Here's a blast from the past; heard this on a mix CD that someone very dear to me, very long ago, gave to me. And she shouldn't have, because I'm afraid that I've wasted it. Which is probably why I get so hung up on what I want sometimes - I fear that I won't do right with what I'm given.
And for all that could have been...
I don't know.
I've been living one-day-at-a-time, with no discern able goal to achieve. I know what I'd *like* - things that would be nice to have, and have had done. Material possession is far overrated, so the things I'd like to 'have' are more like a consistent stream of intangible elements, for what sense that that might make.
Here's a blast from the past; heard this on a mix CD that someone very dear to me, very long ago, gave to me. And she shouldn't have, because I'm afraid that I've wasted it. Which is probably why I get so hung up on what I want sometimes - I fear that I won't do right with what I'm given.
And for all that could have been...
2007-11-09
RRGHGHHGHGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGG
WAY TO FOLLOW FUCKING PROCEDURE.
GOD.
/burns down the building
GOD.
/burns down the building
2007-11-08
Greyed Screen of DEATH
I've heard things like this referred to as the SadMac, the GSoD, or as an old friend of mine once put it 'computer boo-boo screen'. Those of you with Windows boxen know this well - in your world, it's the Blue Screen of Death. Usually happens whenever you install a device with a bad driver, or an existing device decides that it's got a burning desire to shit in its pants.
On a Mac, it's the GSoD. Example: http://www.flickr.com/photos/nicole_hugo/104131302/in/set-72057594069989238/.
Prometheus (my MacBook Pro) decided to pull one of these, this morning, and it makes me rather uneasy. His clock has also not quite recovered from the government mindgame that is Daylight Savings Time. (Yes, NTP is set correctly, you fool - don't patronize me on this point.)
Windows boxes will go tango uniform on command. All you have to do is boot them, or try to use them, or do something useful for a change. And then, boom! Gone. Goodbye! No more machine. Sometimes fatally. With the Mac, it's a little more mysterious. This is only the third GSoD to grace my Mac-holding career. The first was due to a shorted jumpdrive. This time? This time, I was plugging in a mouse. And, bloop! Sorry! Time to go night-night. /death
After a reboot (which took much longer than expected - &cleanup(kernel_task)->gc(); anyone?), the mouse and MBP are playing fine. I don't get why that particular booted state was special, but the USB controller had just had enough, apparently. He seems five-by-five, now, but, beware! Beware the evils of unprotected peripherals!
That is all.
Victory, not vengeance.
On a Mac, it's the GSoD. Example: http://www.flickr.com/photos/nicole_hugo/104131302/in/set-72057594069989238/.
Prometheus (my MacBook Pro) decided to pull one of these, this morning, and it makes me rather uneasy. His clock has also not quite recovered from the government mindgame that is Daylight Savings Time. (Yes, NTP is set correctly, you fool - don't patronize me on this point.)
Windows boxes will go tango uniform on command. All you have to do is boot them, or try to use them, or do something useful for a change. And then, boom! Gone. Goodbye! No more machine. Sometimes fatally. With the Mac, it's a little more mysterious. This is only the third GSoD to grace my Mac-holding career. The first was due to a shorted jumpdrive. This time? This time, I was plugging in a mouse. And, bloop! Sorry! Time to go night-night. /death
After a reboot (which took much longer than expected - &cleanup(kernel_task)->gc(); anyone?), the mouse and MBP are playing fine. I don't get why that particular booted state was special, but the USB controller had just had enough, apparently. He seems five-by-five, now, but, beware! Beware the evils of unprotected peripherals!
That is all.
Victory, not vengeance.
2007-11-05
VS2 Conversion: Hour Twenty-One
Oh lordy what did I get myself into.
So I take a legacy virtual server. And by legacy I do mean legacy. We have to keep this one x86 (not x86-64, mind you) box around to support a VM called 'Xaero' (zay-ro). It's a Gentoo linux guest that doesn't play nice on x86-64 chipsets. Makes the clock run about 1.6 times the normal second speed (so where on an x86 host 10 tick-seconds will go by in a 10 actual-seconds period, on an x86-64 host 16 tick-seconds will go by in a 10 actual-seconds period - this. causes. problems.).
Not a major deal. I've worked with Virtual Machines before. Ahaha. AHahhahahaha. Hahahahaha. Oh no.
So the objective is this: take VS2 (2x 1.0GHz, 2.0GB RAM, 3x 72GB RAID5 disk array, 3x NIC), and upgrade her from the ancient rev of the OS (SuSE 10.0, GSX server 2.2 - old) to the new and shiny, with a RAM and disk upgrade to go. Okay, so I'm modifying the array. I have to destroy the existing RAID container, which means, we make an image. We always make an image. But before I do that, I have to export the VMs.
Beginning at roughly eight AM yesterday morning, I began rsyncing 120GB of Virtual Machine data off of VS2 and onto MDS-BVS10. Not a major deal, right? Dedicated gigabit backup LAN, soley for the purpose of moving large amounts of data back and farth. Should be simple, right?
Yeah, it finished at freaking NOON. Four times longer than I hoped. This is when I went into the office to begin the dirty work - making the backup image of the machine. Again, dedicated backup network? Five hours. I got stuff done on the inbetween, mind you. Got a few other machines imaged, got a salesman's laptop squared away, even found time to grind my fishing up to a respectable point. Woo.
The time comes to begin the nuts-and-bolts. The VMs have been exported (and verified), and a backup image has been made (and verified). It's time to take her apart. Adding three more 72GB disks, and two additional gigabytes of RAM. Configure a new RAID container with 5x 72GB disks in RAID5 with one hot standby spare. No sweat. I have a lovely new 287GB logical drive. Perfect. Slicey, dicey. Installing Linux! An hour later, we have a box that I can administer remotely.
Now, why is this important? Well, you see, most computers have these fancy windowing systems. With Linux - in this case, SuSE 10.2 - you'd get KDE around here. And KDE is great. If you actually use it. But see, this is a virtual server. It has no real purpose with a window manager, so we opted to make it 'headless'. Don't get me wrong - it's a great idea when you want to squeeze every last drop of CPU horsepower out of a host. The VMware Server Console makes remote administration a snap. It's really cool.
It's the conversion from yester-yester-years virtualization that's going to be the death of me. That, and a blade server with a faulty NIC.
My gripe in all of this really comes down to: data processing takes WAY TOO LONG. And processing large amounts of data allows for the introduction of minute replication errors that build upon each other.
Xaero, for example, has two virtual disks. Both SCSI, one is 20GB, the other is 80GB. That's all fine and dandy. But we've upgraded, you see. We upgraded from VMware GSX 2.2, which is ancient, to VMware Server 1.0.4. This requires retooling a few components - in Xaero's case, his disks have to be converted to support the new VMware standard.
Yeah.
The 20GB disk took almost two and a half hours. Mathematically speaking, the 80GB disk should take TEN.
I DON'T HAVE TEN HOURS! I KICKED YOU OFF AT FOUR FREAKING AM, AND YOU'RE ONLY AT TWELVE PERCENT!? IT'S FIVE THIRTY! CHUG, MOTHERFUCKER. I NEED YOU UP AND RUNNING! YESTERDAY!
Ahem. Yes, don't get me started on moving a VM that does this:
Source checksum of disk-file-1:
c3371600dcd0e7ad9ad3841bf905ec35 MDS-PAG-CVS1-IDE-0-s001.vmdk
Target checksum of disk-file-1:
ce3cc9db76f4b164d38632f7a99cc78a MDS-PAG-CVS1-IDE-0-s001.vmdk
This is the part where you notice that the checksum for the same file on two different machines is different. The bytecount is the same, but the signature is wrong. Meaning the file is damaged. And given the amount of time it took to copy, it's going to be a long, long, long ni--... morning. Frak.
I just don't want to have to explain to people that Xaero or EPICenter are down because the disk is still converting. I'll get the standard issue 'Well, didn't you plan for time yardda yardda.' I did. I'd argue that the amount of time required to convert this data was completely misrepresented to me. I'd also like to point out that I can't exactly _cancel_ the operation and let you have the disk back. It's halfway converted from one generation to another. Stopping now means the data is lost. Lost as in gone bye bye where's-your-backup-tape gone.
Hey hey! She's at fourteen percent. Ugh.
So I take a legacy virtual server. And by legacy I do mean legacy. We have to keep this one x86 (not x86-64, mind you) box around to support a VM called 'Xaero' (zay-ro). It's a Gentoo linux guest that doesn't play nice on x86-64 chipsets. Makes the clock run about 1.6 times the normal second speed (so where on an x86 host 10 tick-seconds will go by in a 10 actual-seconds period, on an x86-64 host 16 tick-seconds will go by in a 10 actual-seconds period - this. causes. problems.).
Not a major deal. I've worked with Virtual Machines before. Ahaha. AHahhahahaha. Hahahahaha. Oh no.
So the objective is this: take VS2 (2x 1.0GHz, 2.0GB RAM, 3x 72GB RAID5 disk array, 3x NIC), and upgrade her from the ancient rev of the OS (SuSE 10.0, GSX server 2.2 - old) to the new and shiny, with a RAM and disk upgrade to go. Okay, so I'm modifying the array. I have to destroy the existing RAID container, which means, we make an image. We always make an image. But before I do that, I have to export the VMs.
Beginning at roughly eight AM yesterday morning, I began rsyncing 120GB of Virtual Machine data off of VS2 and onto MDS-BVS10. Not a major deal, right? Dedicated gigabit backup LAN, soley for the purpose of moving large amounts of data back and farth. Should be simple, right?
Yeah, it finished at freaking NOON. Four times longer than I hoped. This is when I went into the office to begin the dirty work - making the backup image of the machine. Again, dedicated backup network? Five hours. I got stuff done on the inbetween, mind you. Got a few other machines imaged, got a salesman's laptop squared away, even found time to grind my fishing up to a respectable point. Woo.
The time comes to begin the nuts-and-bolts. The VMs have been exported (and verified), and a backup image has been made (and verified). It's time to take her apart. Adding three more 72GB disks, and two additional gigabytes of RAM. Configure a new RAID container with 5x 72GB disks in RAID5 with one hot standby spare. No sweat. I have a lovely new 287GB logical drive. Perfect. Slicey, dicey. Installing Linux! An hour later, we have a box that I can administer remotely.
Now, why is this important? Well, you see, most computers have these fancy windowing systems. With Linux - in this case, SuSE 10.2 - you'd get KDE around here. And KDE is great. If you actually use it. But see, this is a virtual server. It has no real purpose with a window manager, so we opted to make it 'headless'. Don't get me wrong - it's a great idea when you want to squeeze every last drop of CPU horsepower out of a host. The VMware Server Console makes remote administration a snap. It's really cool.
It's the conversion from yester-yester-years virtualization that's going to be the death of me. That, and a blade server with a faulty NIC.
My gripe in all of this really comes down to: data processing takes WAY TOO LONG. And processing large amounts of data allows for the introduction of minute replication errors that build upon each other.
Xaero, for example, has two virtual disks. Both SCSI, one is 20GB, the other is 80GB. That's all fine and dandy. But we've upgraded, you see. We upgraded from VMware GSX 2.2, which is ancient, to VMware Server 1.0.4. This requires retooling a few components - in Xaero's case, his disks have to be converted to support the new VMware standard.
Yeah.
The 20GB disk took almost two and a half hours. Mathematically speaking, the 80GB disk should take TEN.
I DON'T HAVE TEN HOURS! I KICKED YOU OFF AT FOUR FREAKING AM, AND YOU'RE ONLY AT TWELVE PERCENT!? IT'S FIVE THIRTY! CHUG, MOTHERFUCKER. I NEED YOU UP AND RUNNING! YESTERDAY!
Ahem. Yes, don't get me started on moving a VM that does this:
Source checksum of disk-file-1:
c3371600dcd0e7ad9ad3841bf905ec35 MDS-PAG-CVS1-IDE-0-s001.vmdk
Target checksum of disk-file-1:
ce3cc9db76f4b164d38632f7a99cc78a MDS-PAG-CVS1-IDE-0-s001.vmdk
This is the part where you notice that the checksum for the same file on two different machines is different. The bytecount is the same, but the signature is wrong. Meaning the file is damaged. And given the amount of time it took to copy, it's going to be a long, long, long ni--... morning. Frak.
I just don't want to have to explain to people that Xaero or EPICenter are down because the disk is still converting. I'll get the standard issue 'Well, didn't you plan for time yardda yardda.' I did. I'd argue that the amount of time required to convert this data was completely misrepresented to me. I'd also like to point out that I can't exactly _cancel_ the operation and let you have the disk back. It's halfway converted from one generation to another. Stopping now means the data is lost. Lost as in gone bye bye where's-your-backup-tape gone.
Hey hey! She's at fourteen percent. Ugh.
On Basic Engineering Design...
So, occasionally, while at work, I'll do a bit where I watch a movie alongside whatever is compiling or transferring or whatever, because it's infinitely more amusing than plain and simple progress bars.
In the 1800s, George Cayley gave us the seatbelt - a harness designed to protect a rider inside a moving vehicle, should the frame come to an abrupt stop, or undertake any motion that may cause harm to the occupant.
In 1903, Ford Motor Company gave us the first widely-available motorized vehicle. Accidents were commonplace, and people were hurt. In a car accident, three collisions occur: frame-to-frame, occupant-to-frame, and occupant-to-occupant (by that, I mean your guts go 'skweeesh!' inside of you - never a good thing). Seatbelts are implemented here - maybe not in 1903, but eventually - to help placate the damage done in the event of a sudden impact. As of the late 1960s, seatbelts are not only standard equipment in all motor vehicles, but are also compulsory for all occupants in most sane places. (For the record, I have never had to unbuckle a corpse from a seatbelt - plenty of living, angry people - never a dead one.)
According to memory-alpha.org, the USS Enterprise (NCC-1701-E) is constructed in 2372. Under the command of Captain Jean-Luc Picard, she took part in a duel with the Reman warbird Scimitar at the Battle in the Bassen Rift. At one point in the engagement, the Enterprise and the Scimitar make a head-long run at each other, wherein a void is cut in the forward bulkhead of the bridge. The unfortunate helmsman - a Lieutenant Branson was blown out into space through the very same maw.
And then it hit me.
Why the fuck wasn't he wearing a goddamn seatbelt? Simple piece of ballistic nylon. Across the lap. You could even have a stately little Federation Insignia as the clasp if you so desired. Make it magnetic, for fucks sake. Now, Captain Kirk, of the original (yes, the ORIGINAL) USS Enterprise had a claspy-lock thing that went across his lap during faster-than-light travel. Expanded upon, so did Captain Styles (Commanding Officer, USS Excelsior, 2285), as he trumpted his 'new incredible machine' into the graces of transwarp. So the COs got big metal and steal seatbelts that could probably cut your pecker off if you happen to have a hard on for superluminal speeds.
With regard to the aforementioned winky: "He's dead, Jim.". Obligatory. My apologies.
We've seen Kirk, and Picard, and Sisko, and Janeway, and every other captain in the history of Starfleet - and their entire crews - bounced around the corridors and decks of these gigantic, amazing vessels, which are equipped with replicators, and tractor beams, and matter-decompiling-transporters - BUT NO FRAKKING SEATBELTS? COME ON, PEOPLE. You can go faster than light, but you don't see the value in strapping the poor bastard into his chair? Let's ask Lieutenant Branson what he thinks.
Tea. Earl grey. Hot.
In the 1800s, George Cayley gave us the seatbelt - a harness designed to protect a rider inside a moving vehicle, should the frame come to an abrupt stop, or undertake any motion that may cause harm to the occupant.
In 1903, Ford Motor Company gave us the first widely-available motorized vehicle. Accidents were commonplace, and people were hurt. In a car accident, three collisions occur: frame-to-frame, occupant-to-frame, and occupant-to-occupant (by that, I mean your guts go 'skweeesh!' inside of you - never a good thing). Seatbelts are implemented here - maybe not in 1903, but eventually - to help placate the damage done in the event of a sudden impact. As of the late 1960s, seatbelts are not only standard equipment in all motor vehicles, but are also compulsory for all occupants in most sane places. (For the record, I have never had to unbuckle a corpse from a seatbelt - plenty of living, angry people - never a dead one.)
According to memory-alpha.org, the USS Enterprise (NCC-1701-E) is constructed in 2372. Under the command of Captain Jean-Luc Picard, she took part in a duel with the Reman warbird Scimitar at the Battle in the Bassen Rift. At one point in the engagement, the Enterprise and the Scimitar make a head-long run at each other, wherein a void is cut in the forward bulkhead of the bridge. The unfortunate helmsman - a Lieutenant Branson was blown out into space through the very same maw.
And then it hit me.
Why the fuck wasn't he wearing a goddamn seatbelt? Simple piece of ballistic nylon. Across the lap. You could even have a stately little Federation Insignia as the clasp if you so desired. Make it magnetic, for fucks sake. Now, Captain Kirk, of the original (yes, the ORIGINAL) USS Enterprise had a claspy-lock thing that went across his lap during faster-than-light travel. Expanded upon, so did Captain Styles (Commanding Officer, USS Excelsior, 2285), as he trumpted his 'new incredible machine' into the graces of transwarp. So the COs got big metal and steal seatbelts that could probably cut your pecker off if you happen to have a hard on for superluminal speeds.
With regard to the aforementioned winky: "He's dead, Jim.". Obligatory. My apologies.
We've seen Kirk, and Picard, and Sisko, and Janeway, and every other captain in the history of Starfleet - and their entire crews - bounced around the corridors and decks of these gigantic, amazing vessels, which are equipped with replicators, and tractor beams, and matter-decompiling-transporters - BUT NO FRAKKING SEATBELTS? COME ON, PEOPLE. You can go faster than light, but you don't see the value in strapping the poor bastard into his chair? Let's ask Lieutenant Branson what he thinks.
Tea. Earl grey. Hot.
2007-11-04
Life always picks up...
Usually not in the way you expect it. Certainly not with a particular, universal method, either.
[ Warning: This post may contain surreal imagery, and make you think that I'm a complete and total nutjob. Please understand that I am. ]
This week will prove to be trying. A support in my superstructure that I've come to rely upon has other weights to bear. Part of building something with, and through your life is the requirement that you share the load. This one is particularly difficult for me to reach out and share, but I will always constantly do my best. They know this - I can feel that, and draw strength from the understanding. The distracting part is the constant feeling of having been sundered. It's easier to deal with than I thought - but I suppose that's what this understanding is supposed to do to you.
I'm at work, as I've missed two days and needed to play catch-up. It's not been fun. In waiting and watching progress bars, I stumbled across an Adama speech that gave me.. hope? Is that the right word? No. Resolve.
"This is the Admiral. You've heard the news - you know the mission. You should also know there's only one way this mission ends; and that's with the successful rescue of our people off of New Caprica. Look around you. Take a good look at the men and women that stand next to you. Remember their faces, for one day you will tell your children and grandchildren that you served with such men and women as the universe has never seen, and together you accomplished a feat that will be told and retold down through the ages, and find immortality as only the Gods once knew. I am proud to serve with you. Good hunting."
I'm doing nothing special in any of this, but it's nice to know that even somewhere in fiction exists a character who can appreciate having someone to rely upon. To mutually reach out and touch, and be touched in return. Mentally, physically, emotionally. It's galvanizing.
I can close my eyes, and let calm wash over me. Occasionally with a laugh. Sortof that same dumbstruck 'wow-you-look-like-a-retard' smile I've grown so used to. Because I understand that that's the mindset I must maintain to accomplish my goal: to find the edge, and to go further than I have ever before, because that is what is required of me.
Of Virtual Servers, and images, and laptops, and networking equipment? Of quotas, and market goals, and time-to-production? It sounds great, but none of it matters in the end. It's all just auto-pilot for me, now, for some reason. The higher brain is preoccupied with the analog.
And, really... damn... analog never looked so good.
[ Warning: This post may contain surreal imagery, and make you think that I'm a complete and total nutjob. Please understand that I am. ]
This week will prove to be trying. A support in my superstructure that I've come to rely upon has other weights to bear. Part of building something with, and through your life is the requirement that you share the load. This one is particularly difficult for me to reach out and share, but I will always constantly do my best. They know this - I can feel that, and draw strength from the understanding. The distracting part is the constant feeling of having been sundered. It's easier to deal with than I thought - but I suppose that's what this understanding is supposed to do to you.
I'm at work, as I've missed two days and needed to play catch-up. It's not been fun. In waiting and watching progress bars, I stumbled across an Adama speech that gave me.. hope? Is that the right word? No. Resolve.
"This is the Admiral. You've heard the news - you know the mission. You should also know there's only one way this mission ends; and that's with the successful rescue of our people off of New Caprica. Look around you. Take a good look at the men and women that stand next to you. Remember their faces, for one day you will tell your children and grandchildren that you served with such men and women as the universe has never seen, and together you accomplished a feat that will be told and retold down through the ages, and find immortality as only the Gods once knew. I am proud to serve with you. Good hunting."
I'm doing nothing special in any of this, but it's nice to know that even somewhere in fiction exists a character who can appreciate having someone to rely upon. To mutually reach out and touch, and be touched in return. Mentally, physically, emotionally. It's galvanizing.
I can close my eyes, and let calm wash over me. Occasionally with a laugh. Sortof that same dumbstruck 'wow-you-look-like-a-retard' smile I've grown so used to. Because I understand that that's the mindset I must maintain to accomplish my goal: to find the edge, and to go further than I have ever before, because that is what is required of me.
Of Virtual Servers, and images, and laptops, and networking equipment? Of quotas, and market goals, and time-to-production? It sounds great, but none of it matters in the end. It's all just auto-pilot for me, now, for some reason. The higher brain is preoccupied with the analog.
And, really... damn... analog never looked so good.
2007-10-31
On blogworthiness...
I spend forty five minutes chasing a ghost through our network, only to find out that this one users issue stems from the fact that she unplugged her unauthorized local switch to plug in a strobe light for halloween.
/sigh
Headed back to Albany - again -, tonight, for memorial services tomorrow. We'll see how that one pans out.
/sigh
Headed back to Albany - again -, tonight, for memorial services tomorrow. We'll see how that one pans out.
2007-10-28
For the sake of..
...not missing a post two days in a row, as I said I would no longer do:
- 1) Extended disaster recovery required on a key piece of equipment in the server room. MDS-AS5 took a major, major shit, and Vince and I only recently brought it back online.
- 2) My uncle Harold - dad's brother - died; apparently quite a while ago, and no one noticed. In Albany now, dealing with that.
Enjoy.
- 1) Extended disaster recovery required on a key piece of equipment in the server room. MDS-AS5 took a major, major shit, and Vince and I only recently brought it back online.
- 2) My uncle Harold - dad's brother - died; apparently quite a while ago, and no one noticed. In Albany now, dealing with that.
Enjoy.
2007-10-26
Kilo 2 Alpha X-Ray X-Ray
A seperate, somber announcement: Mark Hoffman - K2AXX - is leaving The Company.
Mark is a brilliant engineer when it comes to anything with a radio onboard. The man has his own giant tower in his backyard for fucks sake. He's also damn sharp with the fundamentals of networking. I've often considered him not just a contact in another department, but as a delegate I can trust to keep things clean on the engineering side of the building. When you work - day in and out - with products that have the potential to utterly decimate a wired ethernet situation (implemented improperly), that's where people like Mark come in. Not only reliable for knowing at a moment's notice what exactly is going on in the lab, but has never failed to own up and take responsibility for a test gone awry, unlike so many of the engineering folk.
Mark is leaving GE MDS for a different set of challenges still in the Rochester area - and he's one of the select few people that this organization will never be able to replace. He leaves behind a legacy - a lab built from the ground up, but a team of well-trained monk-... Product Assurance Group associates (Or 'paggets', depending on the nature of the day... see my most immediately previous post for insight.)
Good luck, my friend. May the deity of your choice smile favorably upon your selected path.
Mark is a brilliant engineer when it comes to anything with a radio onboard. The man has his own giant tower in his backyard for fucks sake. He's also damn sharp with the fundamentals of networking. I've often considered him not just a contact in another department, but as a delegate I can trust to keep things clean on the engineering side of the building. When you work - day in and out - with products that have the potential to utterly decimate a wired ethernet situation (implemented improperly), that's where people like Mark come in. Not only reliable for knowing at a moment's notice what exactly is going on in the lab, but has never failed to own up and take responsibility for a test gone awry, unlike so many of the engineering folk.
Mark is leaving GE MDS for a different set of challenges still in the Rochester area - and he's one of the select few people that this organization will never be able to replace. He leaves behind a legacy - a lab built from the ground up, but a team of well-trained monk-... Product Assurance Group associates (Or 'paggets', depending on the nature of the day... see my most immediately previous post for insight.)
Good luck, my friend. May the deity of your choice smile favorably upon your selected path.
18 Days Without an Update
...which means you now get a reminder in my Outlook (that will be ever so delivered to me via the boat anchor on my hip) to write something every day. Fancy that! Enough.
I had an anecdote about the cat trying to finish me 'Once And For All! /evil-fingers-peak' some time ago, but it's been lost in the static of life.
Where to start? On life? On love, even? On work? About The Mother? Or Louisville? Or Markham?
Life. Oh yes, that topic. Right, I suppose that's what this is all about though, isn't it? This potentially endless dissertation on life, the universe, and everything. That one should be broad enough for me to extol one bit here and there and keep both of us occupied.
So here I sit at my desk, at 0645 hours - arrived 35 minutes ago - only having just done a walk-around the manufacturing area to avoid a repeat of yesterday. Upon entering the site, I was greeted by darkness, did very little for fifteen minutes, until someone wandered over and found me in my cavernous workspace.*
'Hey, Jeremy. You do know that Syteline is down, right?'
/glare
Not that I don't actually, legitimately like responding to emergencies such as that - really, it makes me feel useful and important sometimes. No. A known issue since 0530 this morning, and the first report if it is a Remote Cell manager coming and speaking with me face-to-face.
The year is 2007. We have email. We have phones. We have fucking Post-Its. Don't - DON'T - wait until you FIND someone. Call someone. Call anyone - there are phone lists posted throughout the building! Especially when the one system that actually allows you to produce product so that the company can make money isn't functioning for whatever reason!**
So I go look at MDSERP1. Yup, power. Yup, network connectivity. I can ping 'er. Alrighty. Remote in. Nothing immediately amiss. System logs show five-by-five. Good. Check the DB logs. Red. Oh lordy, red.
This is when I took a step back and called Matt. Why? Because Matt is normally the person in at 0600, and I was covering for him because he felt like having a bit of a break. That's fine. Except for the fact that I know jack shit about ERP1 and exactly which blinky lights are supposed to go how blinky-blinky in what bleeping order. And then when Matt goes 'Oh. Wow. Fuck that.' and calls MP - she who built the damned thing. So now, under direction from her, we wave the correct wands in the correct sequence to realign some paralellogram responsible for intersecting angles in the contingent of space time. Or something. I really have no fucking clue. Doesn't matter - everything is running again by 0745. Okay. Right. Bit longer than I would have liked.
I'm going to have to make some time to go over the more delicate bits involving projects I want to do. I need to record them better. The notebook is nearing capacity, and I realise I don't actually have digital copies of most of that anywhere. Time to dust off ol' OmniGraffle and have a peek.
Oh! Tiger! Tiger's out today. I will write about it in the very near future. I'm not sure when to expect my copy, but I've resolved to write something new each day. Either way, you're stuck with me.***
Ah, but work awaits. I have things to do...
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man,
As still modesty and humility
Footnotes
* Seriously, my workspace looks like Circuit City would if it took a good shelling from a well-supplied mortar position. There's computers stacked left and right, bits of computers scattered all about, and a whole mess of projects up in the air. Literally. The walls are lined with the souls and corpses of a thousand ideas. That ends today - it's time to step back, clean out this corner of my life, starting with these four walls.
** Things I never, ever want to hear Marilee say: "Yeah, I'm not sure what is wrong, exactly. I don't think I've ever had this particular error message ever before." o.o
*** For at least one person, this may not be a bad thing. :)
I had an anecdote about the cat trying to finish me 'Once And For All! /evil-fingers-peak' some time ago, but it's been lost in the static of life.
Where to start? On life? On love, even? On work? About The Mother? Or Louisville? Or Markham?
Life. Oh yes, that topic. Right, I suppose that's what this is all about though, isn't it? This potentially endless dissertation on life, the universe, and everything. That one should be broad enough for me to extol one bit here and there and keep both of us occupied.
So here I sit at my desk, at 0645 hours - arrived 35 minutes ago - only having just done a walk-around the manufacturing area to avoid a repeat of yesterday. Upon entering the site, I was greeted by darkness, did very little for fifteen minutes, until someone wandered over and found me in my cavernous workspace.*
'Hey, Jeremy. You do know that Syteline is down, right?'
/glare
Not that I don't actually, legitimately like responding to emergencies such as that - really, it makes me feel useful and important sometimes. No. A known issue since 0530 this morning, and the first report if it is a Remote Cell manager coming and speaking with me face-to-face.
The year is 2007. We have email. We have phones. We have fucking Post-Its. Don't - DON'T - wait until you FIND someone. Call someone. Call anyone - there are phone lists posted throughout the building! Especially when the one system that actually allows you to produce product so that the company can make money isn't functioning for whatever reason!**
So I go look at MDSERP1. Yup, power. Yup, network connectivity. I can ping 'er. Alrighty. Remote in. Nothing immediately amiss. System logs show five-by-five. Good. Check the DB logs. Red. Oh lordy, red.
This is when I took a step back and called Matt. Why? Because Matt is normally the person in at 0600, and I was covering for him because he felt like having a bit of a break. That's fine. Except for the fact that I know jack shit about ERP1 and exactly which blinky lights are supposed to go how blinky-blinky in what bleeping order. And then when Matt goes 'Oh. Wow. Fuck that.' and calls MP - she who built the damned thing. So now, under direction from her, we wave the correct wands in the correct sequence to realign some paralellogram responsible for intersecting angles in the contingent of space time. Or something. I really have no fucking clue. Doesn't matter - everything is running again by 0745. Okay. Right. Bit longer than I would have liked.
I'm going to have to make some time to go over the more delicate bits involving projects I want to do. I need to record them better. The notebook is nearing capacity, and I realise I don't actually have digital copies of most of that anywhere. Time to dust off ol' OmniGraffle and have a peek.
Oh! Tiger! Tiger's out today. I will write about it in the very near future. I'm not sure when to expect my copy, but I've resolved to write something new each day. Either way, you're stuck with me.***
Ah, but work awaits. I have things to do...
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man,
As still modesty and humility
Footnotes
* Seriously, my workspace looks like Circuit City would if it took a good shelling from a well-supplied mortar position. There's computers stacked left and right, bits of computers scattered all about, and a whole mess of projects up in the air. Literally. The walls are lined with the souls and corpses of a thousand ideas. That ends today - it's time to step back, clean out this corner of my life, starting with these four walls.
** Things I never, ever want to hear Marilee say: "Yeah, I'm not sure what is wrong, exactly. I don't think I've ever had this particular error message ever before." o.o
*** For at least one person, this may not be a bad thing. :)
2007-10-08
Something is amiss...
I've been feeling... alert, all weekend. And the paranoia is finally setting in. I know what built that, but I don't know what caused the initial event. I know that my brain has taken the alertness so far as to build an event in my head, and I'm not liking the outcome (keep in mind, it's entirely fictional - to my knowledge - at this point). But this is my being programmed to respond to the Worst Case Scenario. I fake it in my head, so that when the real world brings down the thunder, I can react without compunction.
The problem is that I have a tendency to be right - that's what bothers me most about this one.
This song is a...
The problem is that I have a tendency to be right - that's what bothers me most about this one.
This song is a...
A 'Bo' Of My Own...
Over the last month, I've been recruited twice to care for a jet-black cat called Bo - the feline companion of a very good friend of mine. This cat is a skiddish little thing, but so warm if he likes you (he happens to like me, or so I'm told). The charge is simple; arrive, feed cat, entertain if necessary. I leave and lock the door and that's that.
Or so I thought.
My neighbor (a crazy-cat-lady of sorts [?]) knocks on my door saturday evening, after I've seen to Bo. First of all, I was not wearing pants (this is common for me, at home), which was less than convenient. Secondly, after I had hurriedly thrown a pair of paint-covered jeans on, I found my neighbor, and a cat which I could've mistaken for Bo in broad daylight.
Infact, I had.
My initial reaction was "Oh Fuck!" - in front of [Neighbor], [Neighbor's Friend] and [Neighbor's Friend's 11-year-old Daughter]! The cat is a mirror for Bo at first sight, and I had thought that I had somehow let him out of [Friend's] apartment, and he'd followed me all the way back to mine.
Then I realised that I've gotten lost on that particular almost-straight-line trip, and figured the cat wasn't brave enough to make the trek alone. Sense begins to slowly return.
He immediately enters my apartment, and I agree to watch the cat. He's very well taken care of for something to just be found; I'm confident that he has a home somewhere. Somewhere not here. This will do for the moment, though.
I've posted on Craigslist that I have a rogue cat. There were a few posts saying 'Help! I've lost my black cat!' - both referred to a cat called 'Buddy'. This one doesn't respond to that name _at_all_.
I've taken to calling him Ratchet, and he certainly has a home here if no where else.
This type of thinking could do us in...
Or so I thought.
My neighbor (a crazy-cat-lady of sorts [?]) knocks on my door saturday evening, after I've seen to Bo. First of all, I was not wearing pants (this is common for me, at home), which was less than convenient. Secondly, after I had hurriedly thrown a pair of paint-covered jeans on, I found my neighbor, and a cat which I could've mistaken for Bo in broad daylight.
Infact, I had.
My initial reaction was "Oh Fuck!" - in front of [Neighbor], [Neighbor's Friend] and [Neighbor's Friend's 11-year-old Daughter]! The cat is a mirror for Bo at first sight, and I had thought that I had somehow let him out of [Friend's] apartment, and he'd followed me all the way back to mine.
Then I realised that I've gotten lost on that particular almost-straight-line trip, and figured the cat wasn't brave enough to make the trek alone. Sense begins to slowly return.
He immediately enters my apartment, and I agree to watch the cat. He's very well taken care of for something to just be found; I'm confident that he has a home somewhere. Somewhere not here. This will do for the moment, though.
I've posted on Craigslist that I have a rogue cat. There were a few posts saying 'Help! I've lost my black cat!' - both referred to a cat called 'Buddy'. This one doesn't respond to that name _at_all_.
I've taken to calling him Ratchet, and he certainly has a home here if no where else.
This type of thinking could do us in...
Chevelle - Get Some
I love this song. I don't see it in the teenager-boy sense of 'Get Some', but rather the Marine Corps battle cry - 'GET SOME!'. Come to think of it, they're both teenage boys, but that's not the point; one involves firing a weapon, the other involves discharging a cannon. You see what I did there? That's enough wankery, though.
[Assume the following plaintext are the thoughts / observations of a Marine in a combat situation. I will attempt to guide you through the imagry of my brain. Italics indicate lyrics, and where I find parallels in my head.]
I've tried an idea for no reason; keep the sun off our shoulders
Crawling back to- I black out.
Touching new life, face down. Set the pace again.
"Great. We had to do that. I had to give that order." Just trying to get my guys by.
One thing after another, and now I'm crawling for safety. Fuck. Where's my squad?
A weapon. Thank God. I'm in control again.
[Assume the following plaintext are the thoughts / observations of a Marine in a combat situation. I will attempt to guide you through the imagry of my brain. Italics indicate lyrics, and where I find parallels in my head.]
I've tried an idea for no reason; keep the sun off our shoulders
Crawling back to- I black out.
Touching new life, face down. Set the pace again.
"Great. We had to do that. I had to give that order." Just trying to get my guys by.
One thing after another, and now I'm crawling for safety. Fuck. Where's my squad?
A weapon. Thank God. I'm in control again.
2007-10-05
Origins...
Protodeka. 'proto' - the Latin root meaning 'the first formed'. 'deka' - in some language I can not remember - the word 'of that', or more loosely translated as a 'type of something'.
I took that because my mother always called me a mistake - or tried to. Dad would occasionally pull me off to one side and tell me that she was just angry, and didn't mean it. Over time, he saw that it actually started to affect me. The tune changed - I was his First. The prototype. Flawed, perhaps, but certainly over-engineered. That holds true today.
What follows are what I amicably refer to as the best laid plans of Knights and men.
Judgement means nothing - that's not what we're fighting for!
I took that because my mother always called me a mistake - or tried to. Dad would occasionally pull me off to one side and tell me that she was just angry, and didn't mean it. Over time, he saw that it actually started to affect me. The tune changed - I was his First. The prototype. Flawed, perhaps, but certainly over-engineered. That holds true today.
What follows are what I amicably refer to as the best laid plans of Knights and men.
Judgement means nothing - that's not what we're fighting for!
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