 |
|
You are not logged in! F.A.Q Log in Register |
 |
|
 |
 Now online (3)dariusgriffin RussellDust Monoid ...and 87 guests Last 5 registered Oplandisks nothingstar N_loop yipe foxtrotromeo Browse members... |
 |
Members 8025Messages 2613402 Today 16 Topics 127499 |
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
pons |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
the gcPC[2] paper is actually online . my wrath declines slightly, but i still doubt i'll get a lot out of this. i think i'ma make some coffee, first. |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
if a superconductor needs to be really cold, i'm guessing a superinsulator needs to be really hot. the words tell me so |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
i wear a hat often enough, and i take it off when working out (stretching, indian clubs, dancing, breathing, meditating, flailing etc) as falls off if i don't. then i began losing my glasses once i got sweaty, and i stopped wearing those too. i found i rather liked it: i'm nearsighted, and it makes it hard to see details of anything off in the distance. this has made it easier to focus. concentrate. my glasses are more or less an extension of me. a friend and i got to talking about what we'd grab first in the event of a fire... he said, "oh, my glasses, of course." i replied: "i'd have my glasses on before i even understood there was a fire and started thinking about what to grab." it's totally true. getting rid of them has led to moments where i feel them like a ghostly afterimage. like a phantom limb. less amusing is returning to something i already knew: the glasses limit my visual field. i have to look through them. it has bred an odd, possibly undesirable relationship between looking ahead and looking to the side. since i'm so used to them, getting rid of them makes me starkly conscious of how they essentially mediate my interaction with reality. i'm often ignoring my eyes, once i get into it. focused on my body. the eyes are still necessary, somehow, to keep me from crashing into the walls or furniture. i'll see a bit of whatever out of the corner of my eye and that tells me to rotate my foot right, because if i keep going left i'll run into something. i've gotten to know the space, though, so i've been ignoring it more and more. i've spent enough time not crashing into things to let it run on autopilot. still with me? ok. tonight, i decided to turn off the lights. tried keeping my eyes closed for a bit, too. when i did, it was almost like i could see my limbs through my eyelids. they left trailers. i'm not sure exactly what this is, but past experience indicates that this is probably a positive development |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
even if i shut off the lights and close my eyes... well, it's not totally dark. i can see vague shadows. i know where the single distant light source is. between that and waving my arm around for a moment, it's not hard to feel like i can almost see my arm through my eyelid. it's more or less the same thing as . heck, it's more straightforward than that. it could simply be put, "after a few minutes of judging your arms from the bit of light that makes it through your eyelids, it will start to feel like you can see your arms through your eyelids." tonight, though, it was not merely this. i had not spent "a few minutes of judging my arms from the bit of light that makes it through my eyelids." i warmed up, shut off the lights, closed my eyes, kept going. i was strongly focused on my body, and its location in the room. i would occasionally open my eyes and recalibrate. it's a little game to me, like walking along a sidewalk curb as if it were a balance beam. i enjoy the challenge of trying to stay oriented without using my eyes. so, i was not really paying attention to the little i could see through my eyelids -- i was trying to ignore that entirely, in fact! after doing this for a while, i began to see glowy, trailing afterimages of my limbs (which were clearly not shadows, since they kept on when i turned away from the light). my conclusion, for the moment, is that i managed to build up enough neural synchronization with my body and the immediate enviornment that my visual cortex spontaneously heard the beat and pitched in its own two cents to the experience. perhaps it was cross i was ignoring it |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
everyone loves to write but |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
but wat |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
nothing, just 'but' |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
wat |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
butt nothing, young man as a lad i did receive a good many butt nothings from adults and never once did they understand why i began giggling like crazy every time it happened. it only got more giggly once i realized angry adults were incapable of processing puns |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
think about it this way, you should be here to interact, the 'read it or not' stuff sounds more like a fugees track than anything, since everybody hopes to be read but its not like you dont give a fuck if people read it or not and post anyways, you just open a text file and archieve it for your personal use |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
i write a lot, and i know it. in wrestling with this, i came up with that disclaimer. i'm aware that people can come to feel like i've saddled them with a tiresome homework assignment when i reply with a wall of text. there was the naive hope that someone out there was reading it all, but i knew that probably wasn't happening. i kept pressure on myself to avoid assuming people would read things, because that invariably leads to disappointment. this seemed like a good compromise for a public message board. here and there, though, instead of ignoring me, someone would get mad! they'd reply back; tell me off for writing so much. so, i'd say, "oh, read it or not." you're not on the hook, man! calm the heck down. yes, i write a lot. i understand if you lot are busy some days, though, and skip it... but, from the bottom of my heart, i really wish everyone would read it all. getting the brush-off hurts me like it hurts anyone. i've come to expect it, though, which is arguably worse. i get pretty nihilistic about it: "oh, no one reads this shit... why am i bothering?" the answer is: sometimes, people do read it. so i bother. bother you all to kingdom come |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
yeah, theres too much expectation in this without a doubt |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
it rapidly crosses the line into expectation of expectation, and then we're all fucked. |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
it rapidly crosses in your helpless mind |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
http://tapeop.com/interviews/89/squarepusher/ TJ: The most stressful times to me are when I'm trying to get takes down: I'm trying to get the sounds right while playing, and the two mentalities are slightly different. I think to play really well you have to let go to an extent -- you can't just sit there thinking about the procedures when you're trying to deliver a musical performance. It's multitasking; switching from one mentality and flipping back. switching spheres of context. flipping weasels So what are your tactics for flippin' weasels? TJ: I've always had an interest in how the technical aspect of recording music affects the affective or emotional experience of listening to it. I could save myself a lot of effort by getting an engineer in, but my worry is that I'd be explaining ideas to people. I'd have to convey a musical idea verbally to somebody -- translating from one language to another. In my head the links are direct. If I'm relying on a verbal form of communication, "I need this kind of sound," then I'm stuck in this dreadful territory, like music journalists or critics when they try to convey a sound using words. I try to avoid doing that at all costs, because I'm not sure exactly what connotations these words might have. In my head I've got very specific connotations. I have a very specific texture that correlates to the experience of green. There's no point in saying, "I need this to sound green" to an audio engineer. I remember reading about Captain Beefheart, and that's one of the ways that he would communicate with his musicians — using evocative phrases to get specific kinds of performance out of them. Personally I don't have any..." i have way too many obviously, squarepusher ain't reading this, but if he were, i would say: people are like any other instrument. if you practice and learn how they respond to your touch, you'll find yourself able to evoke the right phrases in no time |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
t t t t j j j j t t t t j j j j i'll be damned |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
science needs to hear about how i just remapped t t t t j j j j to snares. i suspect snares are a sub-voxel operation |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
there will be times when i'm grilling some poor soul like a hostile prosecutor cross-examining a witness: "a wikipedia page on X, have you read it?" no? ok "how about the simpsons episode where..." oh, no, ok.. "have you seen the movie...." no? ok "are you familiar with the concept of..." no, you're not. "have you read...." i am urgently dredging through this person's brain, searching for a reference they "get." i think the only reason people tolerate this is because i'm firing off questions so fast they don't have any time to question my questioning. whatever the reason, i eventually hit paydirt. "you remember that conversation we had six months ago about..." "oh. yeah..." they say. "well," i explain, "it's sort of like that, in the context of [other thing we were talking about]." "ohhhh!" the person replies, "i get what you mean, now!" ...and i think to myself, "thank god. finally!" summary ~ 1) tried to explain this thing to them for five minutes; repeatedly failed. 2) spent a few minutes grilling them until i found a mutual point of reference. 3) as soon as i found a mutual point of reference, it took about two sentences to convey exactly what i intended to convey near future ~~ 4) next time we're talking about such things, i can skip 1) and 2), go right to 3). this should save us ten minutes eventually ~~~~~ 5) we share so many mutual points of reference that i no longer struggle to communicate any given point |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
obviously, 5) is never properly achievable. it's just a limit that gets steeper as you climb. you'll note i've cheekily referenced a previous impossible conversation as the final, successful "gettable" reference that made my current impossible conversation successful. this is the nature of language in a nutsphere. much more uplifting is that these things begin to generalize within me: after failing to explain something to three different people, i have three ways i've managed to successfully make some wicked abstract point, and when i have to make it a fourth time, the previous three successes become something i can leverage to cross the finish line a bit faster. |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
ttttjjjj: "I have a very specific texture that correlates to the experience of green. There's no point in saying, "I need this to sound green" to an audio engineer. I remember reading about Captain Beefheart, and that's one of the ways that he would communicate with his musicians — using evocative phrases to get specific kinds of performance out of them." ten to one, when beefheart chap did that, he was watching his musicians carefully, like one would in a poker game. feeling out their minute reactions as he tries out an "evocative" phrase. the reactions would tell him which bits of it translated, if any, and when he'd try again a second time it would be much more on the mark. over time, perhaps, he came to be able to read musicans like a fortune teller. sorted them into bins and categories; knew which evocations to use on whom. at that point you're just programming information into a sequencer |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
when i read "a very specific texture that correlates to the experience of green" i got sort of bright jungle green with wiggles and lines and bubbles. like i'm seeing light through a wool shirt, except where i would be seeing light in that context, i see black. where i would be seeing wool, i see green. does this have anything to do with ttttjjjj green? perhaps not. but it would only take a moment from here for him to explain his end of the picture to me. at that point, both of us would be able to talk about green sounds with far less confusion. heck, i can start to do that already: tensor in green. love that track. now i'm scrubbing through it in my head: alright, is this his version of green? which parts? i don't have to be synaesthetic precisely like he is to understand what he wants when he asks for green. and now he can ask for "my green" or "your green" too i suppose p.s. ~ that same jungle green is what i get from "boogie down bronx" but that track is more lissajous lines than inverted wool shirt. does tom's green do this too? i've not a clue. come to fucking daddy, would you like some sausages |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
|
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
it's occurred to me that saccade eye movements are deeply intertwined with any given human's attention span. have your eyes just flicked across the room to something else? then, yes, you've probably switched from one mental context to another. to say i like driving to music is like saying that jesus "is kind of popular." it is something that i am deeply passionate about, and do most every day.... and when i talk about it, most people get what i mean (especially if they smoke weed). i tend to lose people, however, when i start describing how consciously trying to flick your eyes around to the beat naturally foments a more rhythmic sense of planning in any individual |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
today, hiking, the mosquitos were fierce. as a bonafide mouth-breather with , i was getting mobbed (even with DEET repellant!). breathing through your noise helps -- the winning formula would seem to be, "in through the nose (from the stomach), out through the mouth (blowing like one would do to blow out a candle)." i don't know why this works, but it does. you're welcome. |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
"meanwhile, i suspect my car has a slipping metaphor in its serpentine belt. serpentine belt. i loved that name. then i got down to business: how many subsystems does it run? what are they? power steering, oil pump, brakes, compressor, altergigger... water pump? oh, no, it's that shit where the owner's manual explains to you what the steering wheel is for and the service manual is not on the internet. fucking fuck. how is power steered, anyways? more or less, i decided it was time to start learning cars. i hear this problem in there and it's not a real problem yet, just a noise that shouldn't be a noise at this stage in the car's lifespan. even taking my approach to driving into account... but, yes, here's the joke: what makes the engine work? the serpentine belt. the engine would die without the oil pump... it'd need a jump without the altergigger... it'd overheat without a water pump, if yours does that... if not, the altergigger does that too; same thing... brakes? who needs those yes, saying consciousness is what makes the mind work is like saying the serpentine belt is what makes my engine work. it's better than saying it's what makes my car move (oh, god makes the sky blue, dear)" i am currently at the dealership, getting a new serpentine belt, amongst other things. my sevice Id integer today is 1331. i trust this belt will serve me well. |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
love u |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
thx. u2 |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
i would like to relate an incident in which lewis was trying to explain his concept idea to me. he began with something about a TV remote that docked into an inductive charger. "so there's a disposable tv remote with an inductive charger and it talks to our cell phone app with a web page running bsd" "uhh... what does that have to do with a tv remote with an inductive charger?" "the tv remote talks to the cell phone app and you can make money off of ads and..." "what does that have to do with a tv remote with an inductive charger?" "the remote runs everything and changes the channel and talks to your cell phone and..." ...and on we went. there were some tangents, though: "what? you want to run the whole system off of a disposable TV remote? something someone could drop in his beer? or that three year-olds will use as a hockey puck? you're going to have to build the heck out of this thing. and still make it disposable?" "well, it's encased in lucite." "oh, ok" "...and the remote changes the channel on your TV and has a web page and..." i was torn between losing it in giggles and wanting to throttle him. i settled on asking the same question over and over, to see what would happen: "what does that have to do with a tv remote with an inductive charger?" every time, i got a small fractal ramble tree that grew a bit differently each time. after five or six of these, i actually started to get a bit of a signal out of it, like some process where one repeatedly sends a crappy fax image of a bunch of scribbles, and then a computer algorithm adds all the crappy fax images together into something you can actually read. most people would have just tried to send off one idea at a time, but i got sixteen or twenty eight or some larger interger from lewis |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
i just had a very lovely experience driving to thips tiptter traq, . it is ideally suited for my car's automatic transmission, as well as the rises and lulls in the need for fuel. six-thirty on a highway that is massively over-capacity: two lanes, under construction, with some of the most brutally agressive driving i've ever seen, with the possible exception of the rotary around the arch de trioompf in paris. i have known this highway my whole life. i know these audi people. none of it particularly phases me anymore. i have even come to respect it, in a sense: these people are very, very good drivers... and, currently, they are insane with frenzy: they're jammed into a tight space. they're late for dinner. it's about to start raining cats and dogs... i let it wash around me like water. audis surge in out of nowhere and cut me off. it's actually rather soothing to watch them just sweep in like clockwork. i know their rhythms. having warmed up, i loop back 'round the other direction, and start driving more properly as table-flipping vip drops. light rain; i am really into it. feeling the click points where my car will shift gears; tipper's music simply catches you like magic. an suv in the other lane noticed -- and in a lovely way. the driver kept an eye on me, got his foot tapping along somehow, and began matching my surges... then riffing. it reminded me of one of those animations of wind where two gusts kind of struggle to surge past each other in sort a taut drifiting motion... then rain started proper and i reached my exit |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
car story bro. |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
The TrueNorth system is flexible, in that it can be programmed to implement networks of different sizes and shapes, and scalable, in that many chips can be tiled together easily. “It’s a new paradigm in scaling,” says Dharmendra Modha, IBM’s chief scientist for brain-inspired computing. Referring to the outer layer of the brain, he says, “this is how cortex itself scales its computation, essentially.” And the chip is efficient. For the Science paper, the IBM team used the chip to identify people, bicycles, and cars in a video of a street scene. A software simulation of TrueNorth running on a traditional microprocessor used 176,000 times as much power. “This is really a time where the whole technology is evolving and dramatically improving,” Modha says. "It will get better not by percentage points but by orders and orders of magnitude.” |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
the act of comprehending language requires a certain amount of thinking about every word coming at you. in order to read this sentence and comprehend it, you simply must have thought about guitars, because i just mentioned guitars. i figure most everyone can easily recall a time when someone's told them "i didn't want to tell you, because i knew you'd be upset." say you smoke. your friend does not approve of smoking. you don't smoke when they're around.... but, you also have to be very careful to avoid mentioning you do smoke, because if you do, you know what you'll get -- a lecture, nannying, whatever... then you get into the really troublesome nonsense: say you really want to talk about something that's bothering you. you can see your buddy had a long day, too. do you burden him with this crap? now we're in proper shit with "does venting actually help?" and "even if venting works, can anyone listen to you vent without getting emotionally dragged down with you?" perhaps that's just how relationships work -- a byzantine network of tripwires and handshake agreements where i sit there and feel terrible about your bad day when i've had a good day so you'll care about me enough to sit there and feel terrible about my day when i've had a bad day i beleive they call this "empathy" -- when someone tells you some bad shit that happened to them, and you comprehend it, you feel a bit shit too i think this is mostly a problem when everyone's having bad days, but people rarely want to vent about good days, so... |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
this morning, jogging in da woods, my attention was solidly split between coaching the form in my knees and dodging the huge piles of horses*** on the trail. the leaves have started to come down, making things a real minefield out there. one section is so bad i have to come to a dead stop and hopscotch on top of tree roots. it's a straightaway after a real steep uphill climb; i figure the horses are all "thank god" when they get to the top and let 'er rip. by hopping across roots, i can dodge most of the shit, but i always wind up getting some on my shoes, no matter what i do. this seems an apt metaphor for life. something on the side of the trail catches my eye. i stop, crouch down, and examine it: a blue nerf dart. i sniff the air. i pick up the dart. then, in my best politically incorrect indian voice, i say to the woods: "three kids. major nerf battle columbus day weekend. kid with brown hair, lose badly." then i put the dart back down and finish my run. |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
no one gives a shit |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
that's why it's in the bullshit thread, yes. i'm trying to chart my personal progress as a self-indulgent andy kaufman knock-off. |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
i didnt even read the post, but i was sure you would come up with a decent reply. |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
that's how i do |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
good to know |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
know shit. |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
exactly. you write and you write and you write and you know truly shit. |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
i am write about shit, know shit, danke schoen. |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
i bet you aint even capable to come out of this |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
do it for a lol? |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
yeah, nevermind if this is for your personal health or wellbeing |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
i dont give a fuck really, this site is not mine, im just doing my community service |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
|
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
"As test cases, they used well-known examples of changes in English. First, they looked at past-tense verbs. In most cases, we form the simple past tense by adding -ed onto the end of a word, like type → typed or like → liked. But there are some irregular cases, like write → wrote and sleep → slept. And then there are the in-betweens: do you say sneaked or snuck? Spilled or spilt? The researchers searched a linguistic corpus, which is a gigantic database of real-world language use, to track verbs that have two possible past-tense forms. They found 36 of them, which collectively popped up more than 700,000 times in the corpus. For each of the verbs, they tested statistically whether the pattern of change over the last 200 years looked more like random chance or like the result of selection by people who were biased toward one form or the other." |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
this actually makes a lot of sense -- according to this article, people spoke english like yoda 900 years ago, and yoda was at least 900 by the time Empire Strikes Back was in theatres... ...theaters? ptheeee. aaate. errrrs |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
| |||||||||
|
|
Too many people worry about what they say, out of fear for what others think.. but honestly does it matter? We're all gonna die. Epic here will die.. and everything he said will be 1000% more profound when that happens. I'm likely to be dead soon too, I can feel it in me bonez but anyway I'm truly worried for the future of electronic music if anyone out there doesn't know who I am.. who gives a shit anyway. This is for nevenen and anyone else with a heart and brain still out there |
||||||||
|
|
|||||||||
|
Messageboard index
|
|||||||||
