Reading (For Dummies)

PSSSSSsssshhhhhhhhh

Began what was to be an epic journey today, a bike ride down through Cortland County and back to Syracuse (estimated distance, 70 miles). I was cut short at mile 5 by yet another f'ing flat tire. I had left my patch kit with Keisuke, so called him on my cell phone (fortunately I was smart enough to bring it). He came riding out with patches, a spare tube, and his pump. The hole was a snakebite way too big for a patch (pressure wound from nailing one of the city's fine potholes). He gave me his latex tube instead, which I managed to pop 2 miles back to my house (glass), so I had to walk the rest of the way. I guess last night's pool improvements mean bad luck in other places. Yeah, I definitely have to leave this city.

Good News

After a week of hair-pulling stress (actually, upon inspection there's less and less hair these days), I succeeded in giving not one but two talks in one day: one to demo my Encrypted File System implementation (the only demo so far that I addressed all the teacher and TA concerns before the Q&A period), and another to talk about my idea for decentralizing ICANN and opening the root DNS to market forces in a controlled way that actually increases internet resiliency.

Word.

Arrived home to find more good news: the motorcycle that I'm picking up from Richard (husband of Bridgit, last seen at Falcon Ridge) now has keys, and more importantly, a title. So a little elbow grease to clean the carbs, plus a new chain and some primer for the inside of gas tank, and the thing will be fully operational. Not a lot of work at all...I'm stoked. And I'll be picking it up, finally, sometime next week.

But for now breathe in, study, breathe out.

Two Days in the Valley

At an invitation from Henry, I went to a Volunteer Search and Rescue function over the weekend, where trackers, K-9 handlers, and amateur radio operators got together to do drills searching for people in the wilderness.

First, I should back up. I had lunch with Jae on Friday, and he said to me, "Reid, you need to get away from here. If you stay too long, you're going to turn into a redneck." I hadn't told him of my weekend plans. Jae is what I like to call a Sage Advisor...

Anyway, to get back to the point. I went down to Highland Forest to volunteer as a victim for the tracking dogs on Friday night. When it got dark, I had to wander into the woods at predetermined GPS coordinates. Sitting at 10PM under a log, wrapped in a camo net, the handler doing his night dog training was unable to find me. He was navigating by compass (a requirement) and got quite lost. So I sat for two hours in the cold drizzle with just my thoughts to keep me company. It was quite interesting.

After they called it a night, I walked out of the woods without a flashlight (not allowed to give away my location to the handler) and met up back at base camp, where I got about 2 hours of shut-eye. Then it was up at dawn for more rescue operations.

Henry bright and chipper^W^W^W at sunrise

Saturday's activities involved placing us into a scenario involving a bear fight, in which I left my wife Annie (no kidding, that's what they named the dummy that we deposited in the woods) and a few friends to fend for themselves. As the story goes, I was drunk and ran off, she got killed by the bear.

After a placement at a bit after 8am, a fake dispatch was placed to the volunteers to find some missing persons, with no other info. So the search area was the whole park (which is quite big). After about a half hour of searching, I was found by one of the dogs.

Good boy

It was pretty interesting. Once again, I was covered with a bit of camo. The dog caught my scent, ran up, nuzzled my face for a second, then grabbed the radio out of my hand. It ran back to its handler (quite a ways away), deposited the radio in front of him, then picked it up and ran back to where I was, leading him right to me. I was pretty impressed with the intelligence that the little critter showed.

The rest of my 4-party crew was not discovered for another 4 hours. Odd, since we weren't that far dispersed.

As with most things, the searching needed a serious injection of leadership. The dog handlers and grid searchers/EMTs seemed to work pretty well, but the authoritative base type people kept crawling all over each other, not letting the Wilderness EMTs practice extraction and what-not. Over the years, I've been developing a much deeper respect for the modern military system, simply because one of lower rank does what his/her commanding officer says, generally without question. If only all volunteer services could operate so smoothly.

After spending a night sleeping in a ditch and an afternoon lazing in the chilly sun, I was ready for a real bed again. Or at least a futon. But first, I had to have a last meeting with my group before our Encrypted Filesystem presentation.

Karan, Myself, and Yuhua

So in the end, I think Jae is wrong. I am constantly gravitating towards foreigners and new viewpoints. It can't be helped in academia...even when Syracuse is involved.

Post Partum Something

I met with my Cis785 partners this evening and we did the impossible -- we finished our final project. It was kind of anticlimactic...we had one last bug (the kernel crashed when it ran out of buffers while re-encrypting our filesystem) and Yuhua mentioned that I might want to return data blocks to the unused list if there wasn't anything in them.

I celebrated by hitting up a little pool house north of 690 (somewhere around State Street). I had been there last Sunday, and it seems to be becoming a weekly traditional thing with Megan, Bekah, and Nate.

Bekah humping the table...err, taking a shot

Right now the four of us are quite horrid at the game of pool, but I suppose with enough weeks spent at this place (with reasonable rates, and a friendly atmosphere) we'll become regular old pool sharks.

Awakenings

I woke up Saturday feeling better than I have felt in two years. No lie. I'm not sure if it was the bike riding on Friday, or the bizarre meditation that I took part in that night, or the fact that I could sleep with the window open and not freeze my ass off, but something made me feel like I used to feel when I was just a student and a biker. Eighteen again, young, virile, and able to analyze complex math problems in a heartbeat.

So in an effort to not piss my body off, I went riding again today. Roughly the same distance as yesterday (somewhere around 26 miles). The weather was fantastic, 25C and hazy so the sun wasn't so bright.

Henry whipped up some good lunch, too

I think a big part of it is that I'm over the hump. I have a tenatively locked in job for this summer, just some research work at the university (not great pay, but I may be able to teach a course in addition). The new apartment that Henry, Kyoung Mi and I are looking to rent is awesome. My credit card bill is $0. I have working computers, good bicycles, and my car is running all right. Things just seem to be going well *looks over his shoulder for the lightning strike*.

I got to party this evening, too

I got to hit up Bekah and Jada's pirate-themed birthday party. Yo-ho-ho and a barrel of rum (or a small bottle of Tortuga 151 proof). More biking on the morrow, probably more coding too...

Band of Brothers

Just finished watching Band of Brothers, a 10-hour long, much better, true-story of WW2 warfare. Saving Private Ryan has nothing on this thing, even so far as cinemtography is concerned.

Before watching it, I had read some IMDB/Amazon reviews that placed it as just another "war propaganda" film, "glorifying," dudes killing each other. Far from it. In sharp contrast to Ryan (where none of the important people die, if that's considered a spoiler), it follows the true story of Easy Company, 101st Airborne during WW2 from D-Day until a bit after the German surrender. The show depicts what happened -- soldiers being obliterated by mortar fire in the Battle of the Bulge, commanding officers suffering shell shock and nervous breakdown while on the front line. Each episode is introduced by the surviving members of Easy Company as they recall what happened, choking on tears at points. I find it hard to see how people say it promote warfare...far from it. A graphic depiction of one soldier crawling towards his friends in a foxhole as a mortar round lands in said hole, reducing them to chunky giblets a la Quake, will probably give me nightmares for weeks, in fact.

But alas, no time to keep watching movies -- I have my own war fight, with a paper, a presentation, three exams, and a final project trying to outflank me.

Get Baked

I thought I saw it all, but not until now. That Moveon thing is now organizing a Bake Sale for Kerry, helping him raise money by selling brownies and cookies and things. Personally, I'd rather see the guy sell one of his many mansions to raise money for his political campaign, but I'm not sure if "campaign finance reform" has even made it legal for candidates to sell off their possessions to do that (though I suppose there are more rich Republicans than rich Democrats, so maybe that's for the best). We even have one right around the corner this Sunday...

Domain Name Joy

Vendaworld expired. Whoops. Fortunately, 000domains rocks, as usual. Honestly, I will never buy a domain from anybody else, and the reason is simple. I have had two experiences with 000domains so far that left me extraordinarily happy.

Once, I solved the problem over e-mail, with a response arriving about 2 minutes after I sent it (I had discounted it at first as an automated "we received your request" email, but it had in fact come from a human being). This time, I had to call them, and there wasn't even a hold. I dialed, it rang twice, a guy answered. And he was competent. He took my name, gave me a fax number, and told me what to do. About 15 minutes after sending the fax, I got an e-mail from the same guy, saying my account was updated. w00t.

I just can't get over the fact that any company in modern times is this customer-centric and accessible. If you need a domain name, get it there. It costs a little more, but when you're an idiot like me, it's worth it.

Yo-Yo Pa

Have been bike riding for the last 3 days, the crimson copper taste of spring has finally left my lungs. In its place are slower rides, more deliberate and thoughtful as I shake off some pounds and shake off some funk induced by social disorder.

Spring has sprung

I've also been walking a bit, pondering why Syracuse U. doesn't do a 180 on its yearly schedule. Late spring through early autumn are absolutely beautiful in this part of the country; much of the student body only gets to see the dull grey seasonal affective winter.

I spend time walking thinking of women, the quintessential quest of the species blessed with the Y chromosone. Recent reading has, once again, shattered my thought process about the nature of sex. Not a direct result, mind you, but a very strange Neal Stephenson-induced meme in which I realize that the most dominant cultures are also the most chaste, and this may not actually be a coincidence. Japan and the US are liberalizing, Europe is conservativizing and catching up. Or we're meeting in the middle somewhere.

Karl May

The New York Times has a story on Westerns in Germany, with requisite cowboys with black and white hats to signify which side they were on. If only life were that simple.

While in Dresden, I once visited the Karl May Museum, although it was unfortunately closed, with no indication as to when it would re-open. After talking with Thomas and Peggy Will over there, it was revealed to me that Karl May was kind of a local hero who had lived in Dresden and Nausslitz for much of his life.

Having that knowledge immediately available to me had opened me up a little bit. I do recall Steffen asking me almost immediately at our first gathering, "So, have you read anything by Karl?" At least having the background knowledge on the guy I could say, "No, but I've been meaning to. You know he never lived in the States."

Most Germans didn't know that he had never been to America. Fewer still knew that he was virtually unknown in the United States. It's kind of a shame, really, and I really do need to read some of his books. No doubt they are far superior to our own, because they don't have to be fettered down with things like verifiable accuracy. Fiction should be fiction, after all. Amen.

The Return of Biking, Chapter Fin

Life has been a bit on the boring side lately, as I focus the entirety of my being on studying, hacking, reading, and writing (academic papers, that is). Certainly things haven't been as interesting as in Justin's life.

When I went to visit my brother last week, he sold me his old fork. That, combined with my new headset, has allowed me to "finish" my Rotor for the year (barring my destroying any parts on the trails).

The Finished Project

As for the specs, it has:
Rotor "Arsen" Frame (note: my website now is the top google search for this frame. Oooh, aaah.)
2001 Marzocchi Fork
Mavic 519 Rims laced with Shimano XT hubs
Hope Mini/M4 disc brakes (a wonderful hybrid)
Chris King No ThreadSet
XT Rear Derailure
LX Front Derailure
Race Face Turbine Cranks
XT Cassette

The only original parts are the shifters (Deore), and the stem, handlebars, and seat post (Ritchey), as well as the pedals (???). Took it for a quick spin through the park tonight and I must say that I am eager to get it on the trails.

Protesting the Protestors

Bigots

I went to New Paltz today to protest Phelps. I found it rather troubling that, of all my gay friends, it was me, the dominantly straight member of the troup that actually hauled my ass out of bed at 7:00am (8:00am with the daylight's savings thing) and demonstrated on behalf of the forces of Good.

I met Erik in front of the Guilded Otter, where supposedly the Otter himself was making gyrating hip movements in front of Phelps' crew. There was some organized chanting on our side of the street. Police were keeping the Phelps crew (henceforce referred to as "the protestors") on one side of the street and our crew ("the counter-protestors") on the other. Really, there was no chance of riots. As my brother says, everyone in New Paltz gets laid often enough that they don't boil over about anything.

I should also mention that there were a lot more counter-protestors than protestors, but I suppose that in a town like New Paltz, that makes sense.

Case in point

When Phelps' gang moved over to a (non-baptist) church on the other side of town, we followed. Out came Rose, the church's choirmaster, to lead the Counter-Protestors in a stirring rendition of Amazing Grace. Apparently, it really gets on the Baptists' nerves to sing gospel tunes at them. In response, they sang America the Beautiful at us, but they forgot the words. Oops.

Right on, sister. Although I'm not gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

It was actually kind of sad to go the whole affair. I've heard that these people bring their kids, and it is the truth. Nothing makes me more afraid than seeing a 4 year-old holding a sign that says "God Hates Fags".

Anyway, if you're interested in hurling insults at racists and bigots, check out the Phelps congregation schedule.

So I met this Girl

I had another one of those Online Dates again last night. I guess I'm becoming something of an online dating professional...

The elusive Mary...

Mary and I met one on of those peer-to-peer sites, which I guess makes them not all bad. She's a foxy lady with more than a few bizarre stories to tell, one of those that didn't take the, "direct path," from point A to point B.

We spent most of the night at the Dark Horse bar in Dewitt, a seedy little place insomuch that it is a bar in a strip mall that gives me nightmares of New Jersey. It's a local place though, nice for avoiding the coke-fiend crowd that seems to have infiltrated the campus in recent years..

We hit back to my place for an a bit of that late-night style conversation. That, and she recited beat poetry while lounging around on the floor pondering why evolutionary theory makes me attracted to thick eyebrows.

I couldn't seem to get a decent picture of her face

There is a picture of a vaguely, "I'm a coy philosophy nerd," facial expression available on the old Friendster, although that photo most definitely lies about the bushiness of her hair (if my own don't give it away, think Hermione Granger in her mid 20s).

How exactly do I go back to studying logic now?

Pointless Updates

Forgive the lack of updates. I've been...occupied.

Lately I've been working on a computer security project to implement an encrypted filesystem in the Minix operating system. Since the course TA has proved rather useless for providing assistance with either the algorithm implementation or Minix kernel internals, our group (which is amazing) has been hard at work to get things...well...working. I wish I had met my teammates years ago, as they provide some drive and focus for my unix and programming skills.

That silly information aside, I've been trying to keep myself busy again, in ways more than school. Basically, riding my bike (over 200 road miles since Saturday), Aikido practice, and guitar playing.

Also, disposing of excess instrumentation

Shortly before last weekend's bike ride, Keisuke gave me an acoustic guitar. Another one. I already had two. So I finally got around to selling my "other" spare, my Ibanez six-string dreadnought. Since Beth got a new job (at Syr-A-Juice, of all places) and a recent income tax refund, she was more than happy to purchase the extra bit of wood. So I got a little bit of money and still have a (much junkier) guitar for Falcon Ridge...one that I care even less about (it was free), so no worries about playing it in the mud of storing it in my car.

After taking care of all the business this evening, I hit up the Bull & Bear with James and Megan for a few brewskies. Something I haven't done enough of lately. Being social, that is.

If a woman has a tongue ring, she'll probably...

Actually, Megan and I are old pals from something like 4 years ago. I reminded her of our meeting this evening with a piece of paper that I had from our first gathering: a simple checklist of names and numbers of her, Sarah, and some guys that had come along to make sure I wouldn't try anything funny when they first came over to my flat. I think the piece of paper pretty well describes our relationship...

I also ran into April, again

Oddly enough, I had remembered that it was April's birthday. Being born April 1st, her parents played some kind of trick on her. Her killer arms are good for more than just winning races, she also plays a mean game of darts, as I learned tonight.

Highlight of the evening had to be running into KC again. She has offered a 6'x4' painting for my living room wall, as well as to paint "anything I want" if I supply the canvas. I'm intrigued...