Oh, what a piece of crap is Windows!

November 21, 2008

Oh, what a piece of crap is Windows! How deficient in design, how infinite in obstructionism!

In form and moving how viscous and elephantine. In action how like a moron! In apprehension, how like a dunce!

A beauty of an operating system!? The paragon of simplicity!? Ha! To me, it is but a quintessence of meaningless bytes.

Windows delights not me — nor Macs either. They are but tools. I love my hammer more.


(Source)

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“Help me, Obi-wan! You’re my only editor!”

November 14, 2008

obi-wan


Soon appearing on my office door. Not far from this old diatribe. 🙂


The Political Animals

November 6, 2008


Plato’s disciple, Aristotle (pictured left) observed that “man is by nature a political animal.”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Aristotle’s disciple, Scarotese (pictured right) cynically countered that primates are, by nature, social-hierarchical animals.

After which, Aristotle expelled Scarotese from the Lyceum.


Πάντα ῥεῖ

November 5, 2008

Attributed to the Greek philosopher Heraclitus is the doctrine that everything is in a state of flux. Other (idiomatic) formulations of this doctrine are “change is the only constant”; or “you cannot step into the same river twice.”

The cosmos is constantly in motion, constantly in transformation. But this universal principle of change has only, in the past 24 hours, arrived in the nation state known as America.

It heartens me to see my country — belatedly — catch up to the cosmos.


Cynicism in C Minor

November 4, 2008

A: Your cynicism begins to border on nihilism.

B: I’ve been reading Nietzsche.

A: Maybe you should read something more upbeat, more positive.

B: But I enjoy dancing with shadows.

A: Is there no room for hope in your philosophy?

B: There is more in heaven and earth. . .

A: Yes, yes. Than is dreamt of in your philosophy.

B: My philosophy is pessimistic, true. I often feel hope is the denial of reality.

A: Reality is a matter of perception: the world is what you make of it.

B: Relativistic bullshit. My attitude toward my perceptions cannot change the reality of what I perceive.

A: A rose by any other name?

B: In a sense. Try sniffing this: the reality of my existence, of my life, is — apparently — a mirror of reality on a grander scale.

A: In the key of C minor?

B: In a sense. Before the opening note, an eternity of silence. Then brooding melodies, turbulent harmonies, struggle and strife —

A: Your life — all life — as a dark and brooding symphony, eh?

B: Exactly! And after the closing cadence, there will be. . .

A: Applause?

B: Touché.