This morning I *creeeak* up from checking email and finding this great paper modelling links page. (Where were those paper buildings when I was tabletop gaming?) Thinking to self – “Scott, It’s kind of cool outside for morning walkies and I feel very, very lazy. It’s 48ºF…Quit yer complaining! You need a walk, and once you’re moving, you’ll thank me for it. Oh, all right. I’ll do it… *mumble mumble, gonna get a bagel at the bagel shop, though, and some tea”

So I pick up Newt, and give sweet lovies to procrastinate a bit. Four hundred nuzzles, kitty kisses and headbutts later, I’m dressed and out the door wearing a sweatshirt to keep warm and a baseball cap to preserve my nose from Yellow Face.

The sky is clear, with no clouds to hold heat down, and it’s beautiful out. The sun is bearing down, so I don’t really notice the chill too much once out of the covering shadows of the apartment’s roof. I hit the sidewalk and there were absolutely *no* rollerbladers or cyclists out today… a few other walkers though. It strikes me funny somehow that a mom with a stroller is willing to come out, but workout folks aren’t. On the return loop, there were quite a few Fire trucks screaming loudly down Federal Highway. It is very dry out again, now that I think of it… Traffic was slow to make way, the jarring klaxons of the trucks hurt my ears as they gave up trying to get past them all and instead rolled along the outside emergency lane. I scanned the horizon for smoke, but didn’t see any. There had to be at least five big trucks and a small cheif’s vehicle heading north, though. Another sight that would’ve been nice to catch on the digital camera. When I got home I dosed up Newt quite easily, we had some play, then to the shower for me to prep for work. Now dressed, I recount my morning and await a ride into work.

It’s supposed to get colder tonight, so I’m leaving the desk lamp on for Newt to sit next to in case it gets too chilly before I get home. It occurs to me that Newton’s not had warm food since drinking the formula I’d mix for him as a baby. I wonder if he misses it? How would you feel if you went from having mother’s milk to kibble and a little soft treat once or twice a day?

I don’t think it’d be too bad, if I didn’t know any better. I think Newt eats the kitty equal of Lucky charms daily… crunchy bits, and softer, tastier pieces that are shaped like things that they’re not.

In News of Scotto’s bod… the left arm is much better today.

It’s good to be home.

I’m hunnnnngry.

What’s for eats in this joint?

Ah! Grilled Cheese, with a side of green beans and applesauce.

Some sweet tea, and I’m set.

from paid members –

Problem: Our internal DNS server failed this morning. This means some things we had set up on the site aren’t working as they should. I’m on my way to the NOC now to reboot things, and dormando should have everything back up fairly soon.

What this means to you: You probably won’t receive any LiveJournal mail (comment notifications or mail sent to your @livejournal.com address) until this is fixed. Other problems may also pop up until everything’s working again.

The marmalade sky. The zebra skin ground is red. The sun is large. The hippo is next to the horse.

Sample output from WordsEye text-to-image program. Some of the samples are excellent.

“WordsEye is a Natural Language Understanding system that converts English text into three-dimensional scenes that represent that text. WordsEye works by performing syntactic and semantic analysis on the input text, producing a description of the arrangement of objects in a scene. From this scene description we then generate an image.”

Wonderfully cool and brisk out this morning… maybe the driest air I’ve felt in an age. Got a little sun, I feel, too. It made the walk a pleasure, and had a pile of energy to have me wandering all over the place. The beach wasn’t terribly populated yet, although traffic was getting thick on the main drag. I can really feel my mind being sharpened every time I head out and roam around, jotted down some story ideas, and my senses also seemed honed to a razor edge. Walking past a bagel shop, especially… clean scents of the sea, fresh bread, and some sort of blossom like honeysuckle filled the air, and I think the sunglasses helped to keep my eyes from squinting in the bright light. (They’re UV protected. can’t be too safe with the ol’ eyeballs). Most of the sounds were wind, the crash of the ocean, faint birds and vehicle noise… Not bad except for the motorcycles. Sort of cold, and I hope that it won’t hurt the orange crop. I’ve discovered that it’s time to get some new birks, as my slacker pair is wearing a hole under my left big toe. When I pick up the camera, I think I’ll go shoe-shopping, too. On arriving home, I medicated Newt, which he took pretty well. Almost done with the doses, thank goodness.

A Nifty thing –

At a recent high-tech fashion show, IBM gave a sneak peek at a matching set of silver earrings, necklace, watch, and ring that at first glance looks like ordinary jewelry. The set is actually a wearable cell phone.

Well, that’s pretty dang cool… Soon, we’ll accept people just talking to non-visible people as normal again.

I would dig a vga wrist-computer with text to speech soI can listen to livejournal, email and online news, or even better, speech to text so I can post from anywhere . Digital clothes are nifty! Once they come up with a more nifty display option than monitor glasses. link those to a net-ready thing, and watch out.

Live in the Present.
——————————————————————————–

Much of the best energy in the world is wasted on living in the past or dreaming of the future. Some people seem to think any time but the present is a good time to live in. But the men who move the world must be part of it. They must touch the life that now is, and feel the thrill of the movement of civilization.

Many people do not live in the present. It does not know them. They are buried in books; they live in archives, and in history, but the great throbbing pulse of the world they do not touch. They are not part of the world; they are never attuned to it.

The young man who would win must plunge into the current of events. He must keep step with the march of progress, or he will soon be in the rear. The current of the times must run through his veins, or there will be paralysis somewhere in his nature.—Success.

Minnetonka Record, March 7, 1902

Salt Sticks.
——————————————————————————–
They Go Well With a Bit of Cheese and Also With More Beer.
A queer looking old man, carrying a large basket in one hand and a cane in the other hand, can be seen any day plodding along the German section of the East Side, where he has become a well-known figure. He travels from one saloon to another, selling “salt sticks,” which is his means of livelihood. For nearly twenty-five years he has been a conspicuous figure on the East Side, and from the profits derived from selling these “salt sticks” he has been enabled to support a large family. He does a good business because of his genial nature. He always has a kind word for everybody.

This industry of making “salt sticks” is practiced by but a few bakers, who dispose of them to these merchants cheap, and who in turn sell them for 2c a piece, or three for 5c. While the “salt sticks” or salzstange, as the Germans call it, is unknown in the American cafe, it is, and has been for a number of years, quite the thing with the German saloons. There was at one time quite a number of these “salt stick” merchants, but of late they have dwindled down to a few, among them being the old man who was one of the first in the field. The “salt stick” is a long piece of baked dough besprinkled with salt, which, while it makes it very tasty, also makes them very thirsty, thus benefiting the saloon-keeper, whose customers are compelled to satisfy their thirst with more beer. But this does not serve to lessen the popularity of the “salt sticks.” German pinochle players while playing their game and drinking their beer, eat them with a relish. No game of cards is complete without them.

They form a very tasty morsel when eaten with a piece of cheese. For this purpose they are cut in half and the cheese placed between them. They are called “salt stick sandwiches,” and they are a great appetizer for beer.

Minnetonka News, June 22, 1894

Live in the Present.
——————————————————————————–

Much of the best energy in the world is wasted on living in the past or dreaming of the future. Some people seem to think any time but the present is a good time to live in. But the men who move the world must be part of it. They must touch the life that now is, and feel the thrill of the movement of civilization.

Many people do not live in the present. It does not know them. They are buried in books; they live in archives, and in history, but the great throbbing pulse of the world they do not touch. They are not part of the world; they are never attuned to it.

The young man who would win must plunge into the current of events. He must keep step with the march of progress, or he will soon be in the rear. The current of the times must run through his veins, or there will be paralysis somewhere in his nature.—Success.

Minnetonka Record, March 7, 1902

Salt Sticks.
——————————————————————————–
They Go Well With a Bit of Cheese and Also With More Beer.
A queer looking old man, carrying a large basket in one hand and a cane in the other hand, can be seen any day plodding along the German section of the East Side, where he has become a well-known figure. He travels from one saloon to another, selling “salt sticks,” which is his means of livelihood. For nearly twenty-five years he has been a conspicuous figure on the East Side, and from the profits derived from selling these “salt sticks” he has been enabled to support a large family. He does a good business because of his genial nature. He always has a kind word for everybody.

This industry of making “salt sticks” is practiced by but a few bakers, who dispose of them to these merchants cheap, and who in turn sell them for 2c a piece, or three for 5c. While the “salt sticks” or salzstange, as the Germans call it, is unknown in the American cafe, it is, and has been for a number of years, quite the thing with the German saloons. There was at one time quite a number of these “salt stick” merchants, but of late they have dwindled down to a few, among them being the old man who was one of the first in the field. The “salt stick” is a long piece of baked dough besprinkled with salt, which, while it makes it very tasty, also makes them very thirsty, thus benefiting the saloon-keeper, whose customers are compelled to satisfy their thirst with more beer. But this does not serve to lessen the popularity of the “salt sticks.” German pinochle players while playing their game and drinking their beer, eat them with a relish. No game of cards is complete without them.

They form a very tasty morsel when eaten with a piece of cheese. For this purpose they are cut in half and the cheese placed between them. They are called “salt stick sandwiches,” and they are a great appetizer for beer.

Minnetonka News, June 22, 1894

Stinky!

Research was needed to determine that human waste grosses us out? Well, duh. I am surprised that the stench of steamed brussels sprouts isn’t included among the malodorous smells that most offend because quite frankly, I can’t think of anything else that reeks as badly as poop than steamed brussels sprouts.

And I’ll *never, ever* get a vomit scented thing to put in my fridge to promote dieting. *gag* just put a picture or a fake rubber pukie-chunk-splat on the door, if you must.

from the – Index of Culture-Bound Syndromes by Culture

pa-feng and pa-leng: (China) phobic fear of wind and cold, respectively. Patients fear an excess of yin (negative / female energy) from exposure to wind and cold. Afflicted individuals bundle up in warm clothing, eat symbolically “hot” food, and avoid wind or drafts. Symptoms of both often co-occur.

All of the syndromes are quite real, and well documented.

Time to check my warranty.

I think I horked my left arm last night, chasing Newt to give him his meds. I was getting up, post dose, and lifted up from the dresser.. and I twisted a bit. the area from the “elbow nook” and radiating around the elbow and down to the side of my wrist is numbly sore this morning, with a mild numbness in my lower palm. A hot shower didn’t do the trick… I’ll take it easy on it today, and see how it is tonight. I’m fascinated by boo-boos.. I can feel where the elbow has more blood working on making repairs, as the region is considerably hotter than the rest.

I had nice dreams last night… I have to get back into a more civil sleep pattern. (having fresh hardware to fool around with is rather a distraction, though.) I was working with some wood… carving it into little animal shapes as presents. I haven’t whittled in about 5 or more years, so who knows where that image came from. Something I’d like to get back into again, even though my sculpting talents are quite raw, it’s a nice thing to occupy your hands and mind with. (Same goes for the recorder… maybe on vacation I’ll hit a music store or Pearl, and get one, or whittling supplies, or both? Maybe I’ll just cheat, and carve soap, to see how I still am, instead of getting all new tools) I remember in the dream making a cat for my sweetie and some bears for assorted kids and grownups I know. Doing chainsaw bears is something that looks neat, but a little out of my scale. I like the idea of hand-sized toys better. That reminds me!

*Scotto, tonight, make the smudges*

My brother lost his crappy job, and 4 hours later got a really good one! It’s season, and tips are really good at Louie Louie’s, from what I hear. His bike got stolen already, though… How long did he have it? 2 weeks, if that? Ah well, he’ll be raking in some big bucks now, at least until season ends in April…it’s a small place, so even after season’s over, it could be a nice gig. I’m so glad he found someplace he’s happy with. Now, if only he can manage to hang onto a bike, we can go tooling around together, instead of just walking.

Nil desperandum, dear lady. Across the desert lies the Promised Land. Good-bye, Mrs. Gloop … Adieu, auf weidersehn, gehseundeit, farewell.

One of my first ever lj friends deleted. (The oldest one I still read). That means is the official old-timer on my list, now.

That makes me sad… she’s a fun person, and the first LJ person I ever talked to AIM-wise, way back in may 2000.(fortunately, that comment wasn’t lost in the great livejournal crash of july 2000…the posts were saved but many people’s comments were gone. I met her back when the search engines worked, and we were only allowed one icon at a time. I started building a friend’s list when there were only maybe 100 people on LJ from Florida, and only about 20 were active more than once a week. (This was before interests were implemented).

I hope she’s happy wherever she is with buzz the pup, and bosco her boy, and that family life improves for her.

So long.

[update 1/8/02 She’s back! yay!]

My first recorded post on usenet, about 8 years ago. Typed from my FAU account, still barely active, about a year after graduation. I thought I’d posted to usenet before that, but perhaps I’m getting BBS stuff and Fidonet mixed up. Maybe an older email address? I’ll have to try out my old aliases…

A typo. On Christmas. My stance has since changed as Beakman burned out and faded away, but Nye labs grew with better writers and experiments….but you have to admire a scientist that explains boogers, and has a guy named Lester in a rat suit and a hippie-chick as sidekicks.

Telefutura, (the wacky spanish channel here) never ceases to amuse. Almost pornographic music videos, *really bad* variety shows with dirty old men and grown ups dressed as little kids, weird soap operas and the strange appeal of seeing local commercials in spanish. It reminds me that while I have better spanish than I did in high school (not saying much… spanish is what killed my GPA) I still don’t quite know what’s going on. I can sort of follow along for a while, and then my poddishness or ignorance of the culture kicks in, leaving me to fill in the blanks. (Usually with silly talk of super powers, hostess ding dongs or carniverous chupacabra masquerading as harmless sugargliders…. it’s an easy fallback. All nonhuman and particularly creepy humans get referred to as Chupacabra.) something I haven’t seen in a long time is sabado gigante, home of the “bee guy” that they make fun of sometimes on the simpsons. Maybe I need to find Univision… it’s the other channel on cable that shows that stuff too. Time to switch to the game show network…eee password with Frank Gorshin and Angie Dickinson. How young they look! Silly TV. I have a slight urge to watch Hollywood squares, which I saw is on next. Aw, poop… it’s the new one. I was hoping for Paul Lynde and George Gobel. I think that I’d want to make up a fake bio if I was on… Not sure what… “I’m a dog catcher by day, but fight crime by night!” or something like that.

I don’t know what’s inspiring me to ramble on.

Perhaps it was the lack of sleep last night. I worked on big brain, just fooling around and installing Red Alert 2 (Pretty much Age of Empires with wacky high-tech skins) I finally hit the sack about 6am… had a deep, thick sleep, and I dont remember last night’s dreams. I was awakened at about 10am by Ol’ Newt using my tum-tum as a springboard to leap to the top of the dresser. Having over a dozen pounds of cat trundle up and kick-off first thing is not how I’d advise waking up. As turnabout,I got to give him his meds (we’re about halfway through the dosage) I know now that Newt can count to two… he resists and runs away until I’ve given him his 2nd dropperful of antibiotics once the second one is done, he’ll come right to me, and ask for his treat instead of high-tailing it. Afterwards I took a walk to the bakery and picked up a loaf of italian bread, and *FORGOT AGAIN* to look into the new laundry…actually got junk mail from them… a coupon for a free wash, any day, all you can carry. (only good 1/7/02 – 1/17/02) and all new equipment. Mayhap I’ll try it next weekend early in the morning. Anyhow, I have a fresh loaf of bread just waiting for serving with cheese and grapes. Time for a little lunch.

babble off.