Genius genie

Imagine spam software finally deliver the right message in your mailbox! Via Cleverhack, an interesting demonstration of an algorithm that attempts to predict the gender of the author of (any) piece of text. Interesting success ratio too.

Posted in Scientifically | 2 Comments

Cam-nowhere

I was looking for a program that mimicks Lotus ScreenCam, and I only found references to an opensourced CamStudio. However, going to the developer’s site brings me to site of the maker of RoboHelp.

Which is weird. First the application was open-sourced but now it isn’t. The makers do promise that the 2.0 edition of the software will be released soon as freeware.

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When sci-fi movies take the wrong turn

Over at the BBC a cynical editorial how Sci-Fi movies sometimes forget about real science. Or rather use dodgy science to explain unnatural scenarios.
Continue reading

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Budget the States

Game as done by AP puts you in the place of the honourable President (via) and brings you the ultimate experience of Live! Action! Budgetting! and Senator! Bribing! (I mean, asking representatives to vote for your bills).

For some kind of reason the game reminds me of Floor 13, which puts you in the chair of the Prime Minister of the UK.

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Ugh

I suppose it’s actually bedtime. Yay for blue. And grey. And Doubtful.

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Static pages in MT

I found a way to add static pages to a Movable Type blog, since I’m too lazy to go FTP/SCP. Scroll a bit down to ‘Adding an about page’. An example here is the Disclaimer page which I used to have over on xsamplex.

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PBS

PBS, the American public broadcaster was broadcasting 60-70s music. I think it started around 7 and it’s still going on (Soul/Rythm, Roy Orbinson and Elvis Presley).

Weird… Did I see Andre Rieu in the schedule? Isn’t that that weird guy from Holland?

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It worked

Apparantly this is my first post.

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Tron (1982)

Tron. For some kind of reasons I keep thinking of BASIC (the language) commands ‘tron’ and ‘troff’, effectively meaning something like (respectively) ‘trace on’ and ‘trace off’. I think it showed the line numbers of execution, but I can’t remember exactly. I’ll have to test that in the MSX emulator one day. Anyways, we’re also talking  about the movie called Tron, starring Bruce Boxleitner, Jeff Bridges and Cindy Morgan (official website) .

The last time I saw the movie must have been when I was in my late teens. Or early twenties. And although the story nowadays would be ranked ‘mediocre’ (the same for the acting), the animation and the special effects are making this movie interesting and worthwhile watching. Not to mention the sexy neon suits.

If you were an Eighties nerd, this film is a must see, if only for the graphics and effects alone. And watch Cindy change helmets.

Posted in The Chest Desire | Comments Off on Tron (1982)

Red Water (2003)

Yesterday, TBS (self proclaimed ‘Superchannel’) had their ‘original movie’ ‘Red Water’ on the programming. And trust me, it was bad.

My wife and I started betting who would be killed in the movie and
we were almost right. The guy with the beard didn’t get killed,
however, before he left the movie, I recall hearing him say the line
‘I’m out of here’. And he disappeared, just like that. Quite a
remarkable way to get yourself written out of a movie.

Every B-movie has a B-movie-female-star, and in this case it was Kristy Swanson. If that name doesn’t ring a bell, don’t bother. If it does, don’t bother either.
But anyways, her acting was so convincing, that I for one, now truly
believe that blondes can only yell, scream and kiss when confronted
with evildoers, plastic sharks and ex-hubbies. Naturally (for
Hollywood), being able to play a scientist is a bonus.

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English English

Alfons says that I say that his English is bad, however, that’s not exactly what I’ve ever said. I dare to say that the English as taught in Dutch schools (HAVO and higher) is nearly perfect, but when it comes to ‘conversational’ English, not surprisingly, it lags.

It could be worse: When I hear Ahhhnold talking, I keep wondering where he got his education from. I mean, after all these years, him being an American citizen, I have a hard time making out what he says. And I bet, I’m not the only one. Maybe he should have been living among the ordinary English-speaking fooks.

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Around

My dad barely survived the camp. In the earliest stage of ‘purification’, he and his older brother were separated from his mother and younger brothers and sisters: he was eleven and was considered to be an adult. At that time nobody was aware what happened to their dad: since he was a Marine officer with secret orders he was initially sent to port to sail out. Naturally, he was captured by the Japanese forces.

It wasn’t all misery in the camp. That is, as a kid you adapt fast. You steal. You get beaten. You insult the emperor, you get punished. You forget and get over it. Naturally, there was always the question what happened to the parents. Legendary are the stories of dad’s lonesome ‘walk’ back home, after the surrender. Over 100 kilometers from camp to ‘home’, to find out nobody was home. Not to mention the danger of being captured or killed by the bands of Indonesian freedom fighters. Afraid? No, he was a kid and just didn’t know better.

Legendary is also the story of a family being reunited. It was the Red Cross who eventually got them all together, but as dad recalls, it was a weird feeling being home: everyone had their experiences and nobody dared to tell what happened. ‘You bear with it’. Eventually he left, 15 or 16 years old, headed for Hollandia (Now, Papua New Guinea) and afterwards, to the promising land, The Netherlands.

After all these years, he doesn’t blame the Japanese or the Indonesians. He only wonders how people can lock up kids. Or starve people intentionally. Or wage war. There’s no good or evil, he says, at the end its the basic instincts kicking in. If you survive, you’re damn lucky.

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Speak low

“Lined up we are, hours and hours and hours
Women, children, we count, count and count
Intense heat, counting the hours
in the rising sun for a thousand years
hours and hours and hours, in the heat of the sun
And the Japanese keep counting, but with an
empty stomach counting in Japanese is too hard

Translated from a Dutch poem

We tiptoed through the house. We had to be quiet. Not just
quiet-quiet. But like in extremely quiet. There was no music in our
house. And if there was, we better turned the volume down.

Nowadays, I hear people complain about my voice. My voice is too low
and if I could speak up a bit. I get irritated when the TV’s on when
we’re having supper. And, like the old man, I sneak around in my own
house, afraid of waking up old ghosts. Old ghosts.

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