A Renewed Presen(ts/ce)

And thus begins the latest infusion of life into this safety-valve-for-my-stream-of-consciousness (cleverly disguised as a voluntary continuation of an Honors Program assignment), which has sadly remained in a state of suspended animation for nearly one year due to a lack of what I'd like to describe as time (which is true to some extent – this past semester has been rather the opposite of Willy Wonka's favorite means of encouraging his tour group to continue their forward progress)...if not for the fact that to make such a claim (which, you will note, I have not actually done – I have merely indicated an unfulfilled desire to explain my absence by such means alone) without qualification would bring down upon me the fullness of guilt associated with the propagation of untruths through omission. For were I to make such a claim, the loyal reader (that ever-popular denizen (of uncertain existence) of hypothetical situations) would quickly point out that several-month-long period of time, named for the season in which the latter portion of its days reside, during which my daily activities were characterized by a distinct lack of presence in Portland, and inquire as to the applicability of the preceding excuse to that portion of the space-time (well, the space portion really isn't important – to make a horrible and questionably-accurate comparison to Statistics, they would be inquiring as to a region in the marginal distribution of time across all space) continuum (Oh...I almost forgot...my days were also devoid of classes during that time period – which would probably be a more likely impetus for one to pose the preceding query). (Note that I'm describing this as a hypothetical situation, considered in response to my own misgivings about such an incomplete explanation, to avoid accusations that I have engaged in time-travel and mind-reading, and the resulting tangents) The answer to which, if answered on a scale of 0 to 1 (no, I'm not telling you (a term which was discussed at length in my previous conveyance) whether it's discrete or continuous, nor whether it is linear, exponential, logarithmic, or (I suppose this sentence, due to its failure to participate in my experimentation with hypothetical situations, qualifies as a potential reading of minds, but to examine that topic at length would be akin to berating a deceased equine, and I have no desire to become the subject of a DOS attack (or worse) originating from (the following is not a misspelling of a rather-nonviolent (to the best of my knowledge) flat bread prevalent in Greek cuisine) PETA) completely arbitrary), would be relatively close to 0. Although by many standards, even 1 is relatively close to 0, so I suppose I should actually come out and state I would be unable to claim a strong causal relationship in that situation. For I have also suffered from a condition whose name varies with the observer, but which is characterized by a combination of lack of motivation, lack of inspiration (I do plan every aspect of these entries - it's not like I just sit down and type whatever comes to mind. What's that? You doubt (obligatory reference to psychic powers)? The clear direction and strict structure of these words should present irrefutable evidence...wait...the evidence may not necessarily be in my favor. I plead the Third (For, were I required to quarter troops in my house, they might be able to watch my writing process...in which case that action would be a form of self-incrimination, against which the Fifth Amendment protects me) Amendment) and simple forgetfulness. However, I have come to set things right with this Special Edition Christmas (not Holiday!) Special (brought to you by Repetition, Redundancy, and words that start with the letter R) Post. I even got started off right with a title which, depending upon one's chosen perspective, is either a straightforward description of the purpose of this post, or a nonsensical statement which accepts a horrible disagreement in number between article and noun for the sake of a mediocre (yet seasonally-appropriate) pun.

And now, for our feature presentation:

I have solved the Twelve Days of Christmas!

After listening to this traditional Christmas song far too many times, and engaging in conversations regarding the outrageous purchases made by the true love, I found myself wondering exactly how many of each gift the singer received by the conclusion of the twelfth day (not night, for Shakespeare would be of little assistance in such calculations). Rather than simply count up the gifts, I attempted to derive a general formula. My conclusion is that, if n represents the first day on which a gift is received (for example, n = 5 for Golden Rings), then we can obtain the formula:

Quantity of gift received = n * (13 – n)

Proof: This gift is given from the n^th day until the 12^th day. Applying the standard formula (b – a + 1), this gift is given for 12 – n + 1 days, which simplifies to 13 – n. Multiplying by the n gifts of this type received for each day on which it is given, we arrive at the above formula.

Of course, I didn't want to simply stop there...I have a general expression, and I should try to obtain some more useful results from it. For example, of which gift did the true love give the largest quantity.

We multiply the general expression out to obtain 13n – n².

We must find critical points, so we take a derivative and solve : 13 – 2n = 0

We have a critical point when 13 = 2n, or n = 6.5.

The second derivative is a constant -2. Therefore, by the test named for derivatives of the aforementioned order, this critical point is a local maximum (which, because this quadratic function is a downward-facing parabola (negative coefficient on n², is also a global maximum).

However, we are dealing with discrete values; there is no 6.5^th day. By symmetry of the parabola, however, we know that n = 6 and n = 7 will represent the discrete values for which this function is maximized.

Plugging these values in to the general equation, we find that the true love gives 42 each (It is a coincidence that he/she gives a maximum of the answer to life, the universe, and everything? I think not.) of Swans a Swimming and Geese a Laying.

I was also interested in the total number of gifts given. I will spare you the full showing-of-work (it is a simple summation of the general formula), but the true love ultimately gives 364 gifts (actually, 376 if the partridge and the pear tree are considered to be independent units). In other words, the true love could have spread these gifts out, and given one on each day of the (non-leap) year except for Christmas. Whether this would have been a more desirable means of delivery, I am not qualified to say. Some choose to receive their lottery payment as a lump sum; others prefer monthly payments (of course, this is not a completely valid analogy, as there is a difference in payout between these two choices, but the concepts remain sufficiently similar for me to feel comfortable publishing such a comparison).

Well, this concludes our Christmas broadcast. We hope that you have found it entertaining, enjoyable, and not overly full of misused first-person plural pronouns. Please feel free (and indeed, encouraged) to check the above mathematics for validity and post your findings and/or any other interesting results which you are able to derive in the comments section below.

Until my next post, (which will hopefully occur after a shorter period of inactivity than did this one), I wish you a Happy Christmas, a Merry New Year, and a Joyous Epiphany.

Farewell for now...

Elyk Samoht Yenraek

In Which The Author Returns To His Stated Purpose

And, I suppose, in which he continues, perhaps initiating a tradition – which will remain to be seen – the time and energy which might at one point have been devoted to creating a long-term plan for this blog has been usurped by the time and energy that has gone into planning out my rather unusual course schedule so as to ensure that my study abroad plans do not prolong my presence here at UP for longer than the average number of years(to clarify (but not to say it outright – what would be the fun in that?), I don't want to spend more time in college than I did in high school (no, I didn't get held back or skip a grade) – a statement which, in case you (a pronoun which may be singular or plural depending on how many people end up mentally processing this test – luckily the support in the English language for generics is more akin to that of Java (which I realize I've previously compared to Esperanto – the transitive property is not intended to hold for my similes. Although there are many who wish for English to become the universal language of planet Earth, an intention which I believe the creators of Esperanto shared) than of c++ - a simile which raises the question of which action in natural language is akin to compilation of a computer program. I would say that compilation is analogous to interpreting the meaning of a sentence. The parsing of the source code would be analogous to the mental OCR of the source text and the subsequent division into sentences and the components thereof (an action which for many is subconscious, the exception being those occasions when a grade-school or high-school teacher forces them to perform that rather-pointless-in-my-opinion task known as sentence diagramming. (and perhaps when attempting to make sense of the deeply-nested parentheses typically found here (a location which is intended to refer to this website, and which is discussed in depth in an earlier post) – but I digress) For those readers who are fortunate enough to have been spared this ordeal, it's a similar process to the conversion of mathematical statements into RPN, the difference being that RPN is actually useful for programmatically handling order of operations.) - if only compilers ability had sentences incomplete understand humans like have. Or, on second thought, perhaps I should be grateful that my compiler will always ask for clarification rather than attempting to make assumptions regarding what I wish to do – see Internet Explorer if you still believe it wise to provide computers with the human ability to make assumptions when the meaning of a statement is unclear.) are wondering (since I clearly lack the psychic ability to foresee whether such a question will arise in the mind of any of my readers) is intended to express not a dislike for life here on the Bluff (here, “here” performs its more natural function of referencing a physical location – although I am writing this not from the Bluff but from several miles above sea level en route from San Diego to Portland. Fortunately, The Bluff is an equally ambiguous term, referring either to a spot on campus, then entire campus, or the University and the neighborhood surrounding it) but rather a lack of funding for longer than the traditional four (Zut! I was doing so well and then I had to go and say outright that number which I had been so subtly hinting at. If only life had an undo button.) years. Not even my individual posts are planned in most cases. This post was one of the few exceptions, as the title indicates. In addition to continuing to spoof literary naming conventions, I intend to return to the mandate contained in the assignment which provided the impetus for the formation of this blog: to document my experiences as an engineering student at the University of Portland, specifically my experience last summer as I took Data Structures I through National University's online education program. Yet due to my prior tangents I fear I lack the space (in the attention span of some of my readers) for an in depth description of all that I experienced. I would have to describe how, contrary to my belief that online education would offer a flexible schedule, the professor desired the entire class to sign on for a two hour period several times each week, and my need to make do with the recordings of the class sessions due to the impracticality of maintaining such a schedule while traveling back to Portland. Or how the class sessions consisted mostly of the professor reading Powerpoint slides, without any elaboration on the bullet points which appeared, over a low quality audio link, which due to its emphasis on mid-high frequencies quickly became painful to listen to. And then there was the final exam, which, like the class sessions, was scheduled for a specific three hour period, with notification of this time provided only a couple of days beforehand. I had to request an extension of that time period, being gone that entire day at an event which had been planned for months. Lest it be thought that I am simply being unreasonably negative, I will say that I do feel like I learned the material – but I basically paid a large sum of money to teach myself the course. Additionally, the faculty were willing to allow me to work around my schedule constraints, but I feel that for a program which frequently touts its flexibility, I should not have needed to go to the lengths I did to achieve this flexibility – I should not have been sending frantic emails a day before the final requesting a different time. Many of the other students had full-time jobs – these generally require more notice than was given. But as I lack the space to do so, I am grateful that I can summarize my experience quite briefly. If you are considering taking a course online, and you are not desperate for an opportunity to take that course (as I was), my advice to you is simple: Don't!

270 Leagues, under three days

Or: A small glimpse into the life and strange (for the most part) yet true (would I lie) adventures of yours truly: Who rode for 48 hours in an SUV, accompanied by a driver, mostly on the 101 and I-5 (the Pacific Crest trail for cars), but spending some time on the 880, 680, 580, and various other local roads; Lacking a car and the ability to (legally) drive it. Including an account of how he arrived safely home. Written by himself (or so he claims). As Daniel Defoe (Yes, I know (psychic, yet again) that between this and the title I'm probably going overboard with my references to maritime fiction) would title such a tale (of course, his style saves you money and time (which is of course a repetitive and redundant statement, the two being equivalent) - if you're too busy to read the book, there's no need to find/buy a copy of the (cliff/spark)notes/gradesaver/insert other providers here to avoid complaints about me abandoning some other review notes provider/(legal: the phrase containing this note is not intended as an endorsement of any or all of the above providers - and students, you should always read the material and only use such sources for review or to supplement your having read the complete original text first. Phew...glad I got that straightened out)/pinkmonkey - just read the title and you've got the beginning, middle, end, and setting. Which combined with a bit of luck and some finely-honed test-taking skills (when in doubt, choose C), should be enough to pass (if not ace) any test your benevolent provider of knowledge may choose to present you with (and now, for your daily dose of contradiction and your quote of the moment, now conveniently combined into one streamlined set of double apostrophes, "Examinations are formidable even to the best prepared, for the greatest fool may ask more than the wisest man can answer." - Charles Caleb Colton. Which, as I look back after having pressed ctrl+v, may not be a contradiction at all - it could be argued (though probably not (seriously - for it could also be argued (which I am) that by developing and publishing this line of thought I am arguing it) by me - there's a little bit about probabilities there that is missed by this simplification) that if even the best of preparations do not guarantee success, why not just read the cover and spend the time you would spend studying engaged in something more worthwhile/entertaining/both (need the two be mutually exclusive?)), essays excepted. Unless you happen writing something akin to this post which I am currently writing (keep in mind that these words refer to the time of writing, not reading - by the time you, loyal reader (if this is your first visit, you must now come back so as not to have been incorrectly labeled) are reading this post, I shall be long finished writing this sentence, not to mention this post, a fact which I do know to be true by my amazing gift of foresight), which given a sufficiently loose definition (or interpretation of said definition - did you really think the dictionary was meant to be taken literally?) could be considered an essay. Which would require you to tell me which class you are taking, because I would love to have test questions like this. Which is entirely beside the point and is attempting to defeat my attempt to use that brilliant literary technique commonly known as an introduction, leading up to content which will correspond to and hopefully make clear the title and first few sentences of this post. Which will hopefully put an end to this ghastly string of sentences beginning with the word "which". Which I guess wasn't quite true yet. But now it is, by sheer force of willpower and violation of grammatical law (bonus points to the person(s) who can point out both that error and the other violation present in this sentence), the forces of which combine to bring you something at least somewhat related to the subject at hand (or hands - I type with both of them, or eyes - you're probably reading with them (psychic, lucky, or statistics?)). You see (or hear/feel if you happen to be using a screenreader or braille), while taking the aforementioned road trip home at the conclusion of the school year, we (my friend, who was driving me, and I) made several observations which, without further ado (or parenthetical notes ... zut!), I present for your perusal and hopeful amusement

1. Shortly (two miles to be exact) before the transformation of a two-lane highway into a freeway, a sign is posted which reads "Divided road begins 2 miles". What exactly is the purpose of this sign. When one considers the number of such transitions that must exist throughout the state of California alone, and multiplies by the amount of metal and paint required to create each sign, it adds up to a lot of financial, human, and natural resources (is there such a thing as an unnatural resource?) spent. If the sole purpose is to provide travelers unfamiliar with the area with hope that they will soon be able to proceed at a rate of at least one mile per minute, is that perhaps not the best use of said resources. Of course, Caltrans being a government agency, this is a legitimate possibility. The other possibility which presents itself in my mind is that this is for the benefit of any motorists who happen to be driving the road rather than the lane - who may experience a rude awakening when the two sides become divided (a formidable challenge to those who don't own hummers or similar vehicles) split and then later take different courses as rural highways occasionally do. If this is the case, and these signs have actually saved lives, I retract all criticism present in this item only, and will update this post accordingly.
2. The "end construction" sign. It is similar to the previously mentioned sign, in that it serves partly give hope to drivers driven to madness after miles of avoiding cones, obeying flagmen, and driving over steel plates, and partly to notify them that traffic fines will no longer be doubled should they choose to speed (see below) or otherwise violate traffic violations. Yet in a monogamous couple, such a sign does make sense - construction zones should be clearly marked, if only to simplify enforcement of those doubled traffic fines. However, we observed several of these signs which were single (I'm glad that the construction is over, but thanks for telling me it was going to start) or involved in a polygamist relationship (This isn't Utah. Are two "end construction" signs really necessary? I think I got comprehended the message the first time). Of course, the situation is easily explained if, as my dad has suggested, these are actually signs of protest by those who wish to end construction once and for all. If this is the case, then such placements make perfect sense. In fact, they help to eliminate the confusion which understandably results from their juxtaposition with the conclusion of a construction zone (perhaps these placements are part of a government plot to dilute the true meaning of these signs and put an end to what must be a widespread grassroots (literally at times) movement).
3. People go ridiculously fast along the straighter parts of the I-5 passing through the San Joaquin Valley. Not really a surprise, but it ties in nicely with the previous item. Plus it makes the list longer, so why not include it (intended to be rhetorical, but you can answer if you'd like)? Along that stretch of highway lies 52.4% of the solution to California's budget deficit (the other 47.6% being the "california stop" so popular among those who dislike coming to a complete stop (and refuse to accept the argument that as long as their car's temperature is above absolute zero, it is still moveing) while their engine is running).
4. Generic text-to-speech engines should be relegated to the early 21's century where they belong - why settle for a choppy computerized voice when you could have a cowboy or John Cleese directing you to your destination instead? Also a second reason to go with a portable gps unit with usb transfer capabilities (you could try this with a factory installed navigation system but I hope you either have a laptop or a sufficiently wide front door to permit relocation of vehicle in question to an appropriate position alongside your desktop of choice. Of course wireless capabilities can also work wonders). The first reason is to save yourself the harrying experience of attempting to take an alternate route, feeling resistance in the steering wheel and then hearing those dreaded words over the sound system: "I'm sorry Dave...". It's even worse if your name isn't Dave - your car is taking control from you and it doesn't even have the courtesy to learn your name.
   
5. Jack-in-the-box has only two locations in the entire state of Oregon. Well, not really (I checked - there's 46). But traveling along the I-5 from Portland to the California border, we spotted two locations, a number which dwindles to near-insignificance compared with the quantity of locations we observed for some other fast-food chains (sorry, I don't have exact observed figures for this, although to give you an idea the McDonald's restaurant locater reports 23 stores within a half mile of that same stretch of road).
6. This trip was over 1.5 weeks ago. Memory is fallible and fleeting. An observation which fits at least as well as #3 in this list. I intended to write this post within a day or two of my arrival home, and as such did not preserve this list in writing before the creation of this post. Which increased the difficulty inherent in ensuring that each item present should fail to be ommitted from the final copy. Yet difficult is far from impossible, and I believe myself to have included all items which deserved to be present. If not, I reserve the right to publish a second installation of this list.
7. Many consider this number to be lucky.
8. Myself, I prefer 13
13. This number is 7 in base 4.

From centuries-old castaways, to contemporary travels, to quaternary math, this post has lead you in two journeys. One you experienced vicariously through my words. Yet it was only one part of a larger journey, the form of which was conveniently outlined two sentences ago. This journey you experienced directly, my voice reduced to that of a guide. They journey will continue, but I know not where it will lead you. For while I am ignorant of your path beyond the conclusion of this post, I know with near certainty my destination once I type the concluding words of this post. In the words of an immortal camp song, "they all (for certain values of "all") went to bed".

I just finished finals...yet they still expect a creative title

So it's over. My first year of college. It's kind of an odd thought. And it was exactly a year ago today that I walked to the mailbox and ever so tentatively dropped the envelope, containing that fateful paper with my legally binding signature, into its depths. Okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating, but proof of this is left as an exercise for the reader (and yes, I did just use those words which, upon their appearance on the pages of a textbook (or notes handout - I'm pretty sure Krune used that phrase at least once) fill every student, myself included (of course, maybe I'm generalizing my thoughts to every student, but you'll have to prove that too), with dread - and which immediately (allowing of course for reaction time and the inevitable speed limitations based on the rate of communication between neurons) trigger the mental translation (at least in my case - I'm not going to project my internal thought process onto the set of all students twice in one sentence (if you can call this conglomeration of dashes and parentheses a sentence - I know I can) )- "I didn't feel like writing this proof out so you get to do it instead". At least they're not killing as many trees that way, but they could at least put a link to the proof up on the web (although if your electricity (and that of the data center for the webhost) doesn't come from a renewable source you would still be harming the environment by looking it up) for perusal by curious students. But I suppose that would defeat the point of it being an "exercise" - and then there's the argument that anything truly worthwhile in life one must work to achieve (although perhaps contradicted by that other statement that the best things in life are free. Or maybe not. As most longtime free software users (such as myself) will tell you, freedom has many different facets - just look for discussions about "free bacliva" (not wanting to endorse excessive drinking) vs "free speech". So I stand corrected (by myself, and I'm sitting). The best things in life could be free, while still requiring work to obtain. At times that which is free is harder to obtain than that which costs. And then there's the matter of how to define free - and for that matter, how to define cost. Is anything truly free? Was that a rhetorical question? Could I pose any other loaded, self-referencial, or philosophical questions? (I'll give you a hint - the answer to the last one is yes - but I won't, at least not for a little while) Actually, let me ask one more, somewhat simpler, question: could I abuse parentheses any more than I already am? (here's a hint (a rather self-referential one at that)) And finally, can you (meaning the reader - as I look back over that statement it appears that I'm talking to myself) keep track of where the sentence was before this giant block of parentheses started? I think I can, and I'm about to test you. Let me know if I get it wrong (it's possible - as is anything until you (and everyone else) stop believing in it), that I may correct this post and not lead future readers astray) , so perhaps my assumption about their motives is fallacious, and therefore this entire rant is unfounded. But then, are rants supposed to be completely calm, logical, and rational? I think if they were, they would be awarded a far more formal title such as "persuasive essay" (and perhaps some of them are - is this one of them? (I'm sure asking a lot of questions today)), the likes of which I haven't written (at least not in a formalized fashion) for some time. But I digress (not as if that's an unusual occurrence around here (if you're wondering, here refers here to the virtual location which is this blog - not necessarily the Christie hall front desk (where I'm writing this), nor wherever your computer is located and displaying this page - for those are both fleeting, capable of changing any moment (you doubt? Finish reading this sentence, close your browser, and try to tell me where here is - then, lest I create a situation similar to that which resulted when NASA sent a signal to one of their probes telling it to lower its antenna, and found themselves unable to tell it to raise the antenna again - reopen your browser, reload this page, and continue reading) - it is only the virtual location of this website (best visualized by the URL, not the data center from which it is served - for that, too, is constantly in flux given the load balancing between the massive number of servers in Google's network) which provides that semblance of permanence necessary for my previous statement to be comprehended at its fullest level of meaning) - these last few entries have been almost pure stream of consciousness (with slight guidance and the inevitable editing which occurs whenever I'm typing something of this magnitude) - far more even than that philosophy journal entry I wrote on the airplane heading home for fall break (the one which was based only upon a really bad pun regarding this being the high (someday I'll post those entries here so you can know what I'm talking about - although some of you (you'll know who you are if you're reading this) may already know) point of my journal) - that's what happens when I start writing without a clear purpose) from my stated purpose which was...never stated. So perhaps I'm not digressing after all. If my purpose was to write a post of complete randomness, would I be digressing by not going off on tangents - or perhaps secants, seeing as at least some of my thought branches ultimate return to the main subject at hand. You doubt? (you do that a lot, you know that). Watch this space and ye shall see, ye of little faith. Or rather, I think I shall leave the proof of that as an exercise to the reader (insert recursion here, or skip if you'd like to avoid a stack overflow and/or read the rest of this post), as I have far more important matters to consider and do not have time for tangents, whether they be line, plane, or otherwise. One thing remains certain: it is now 365 days since I stayed awake, seeking guidance from everyone I knew who was still awake (namely, my family), until finally coming to a decision at 11:59 - and even then, not mailing my form until the following morning (in case I were to receive a message in a dream warning me not to come here - which must not have happened (or if it did I didn't remember the dream to act on it), considering my presence at UP and the existence of this blog). *insert mental time shift* At the tone, the time is now 12:27 (imagine a high pitched beep - and remember it well, for in many locations the time lady is no more, and a great sadness has fallen across the land as a result), Friday, May 2, and approximately 5 hours have passed since I broke off writing - sorry to have left you in suspense for that time (what do you mean, blogger doesn't public my words the moment they type them? Yes, I am psychic. See my last post if you have questions about that, so that I don't go off on the same tangent twice). Please make any necessary shifts in your visualization of this writing, and note a possible cause of any changes in writings style. In twelve hours or less, I will be gone from the UP campus for the summer, and not returning until August (thank you to National University for offering a Data Structures class down by my house so that I don't have to come up here, find a place to stay for a few weeks, and take it up here. Nor do I have to take what are apparently the 15 hardest credits the school offers in conjunction with graduation and the associated activities, nor must I forego my study abroad plans which are the root of all these complications. Yet for all the difficulties, it shall be worth it to be able to spend a few months doing leadership training in the wilderness with NOLS (National Outdoor Leadership School, for the uninitiated) - and to once more exercise my (perhaps questioned, again see previous post) psychic abilities, I am perfectly aware that this has absolutely nothing to do with my chosen major of Computer Science. However, neither do any of the other Study Abroad programs I have come across, and it is for this reason that I risked (or perhaps lost) my sanity at the end of High School through that life-consuming activity commonly known only by it's initials, AP), to commence first my training for the newly-renamed position of Hall Receptionist (read: front desk worker), and later my actual courses. But enough of the future, back to dwelling in the past (this entry was supposed to be reflective) This year has been quite a journey - one which you, my loyal readers (my hit counter indicates the possibility of such beings) , have taken vicariously through my postings (or perhaps directly, considering that if you're reading this there is a high probability of your being one of my classmates). However, I must preface (or rather postface, as it would interrupt my attempt to convey a natural flow of thought if I were to place this warning one sentence earlier) that with a warning (which may sound weird coming from me) not to take that analogy too far - at least regarding the rate of travel of my journey. The frequency of posts has slowed drastically since the conclusion of the fall semester - there have been only three posts this semester, at least one of which was completely unrelated to my journey through college and existed primarily as a medium through which to convey pictures of my dismantled laptop and thus satisfy the curiosity of readers (a curiosity which, if left unchecked (of course, one could also argue that a post such as mine might only pique such a curiosity by indicating what is possible, rather than satisfying it. Indeed, I would (and just did) be such a one), could result in damage to property and voided warranties (<legal>for which I am not responsible (and by reading this sentence you agree to this and any other such statements present in this or any entry here on A Pilot's Ponderings)</legal>). Yet do not be mislead into thinking that the second semester passed slowly for me. The sparse posting was in spite, or perhaps because, of a short and action-packed semester. It feels like just yesterday that I was flying back from Christmas break (it also feels like I started writing this yesterday - and maybe I did. You can work it out if reading this alone is not providing you with a sufficient use for the massive power of your internal parallel computer). A phenomenon for which there likely exist many explanations, of which the only one I will offer is the general decrease in average temperature over last semester (high temperatures tend to increase the processing speed of the brain, causing it to feel like more time has passed than actually has ("actually" here referring to the progression of time generally accepted by the population as a whole) - a phenomenon discovered by a scientist after his feverish wife consistently overestimated the length of his absences. So he got her, while still sick, to participate in a series of experiments quantifying his observations (such a sensitive, caring husband. I love how he was able to involve his wife in his work) - which were later verified using heated hats so as to eliminate the possibility that some other aspect of the illness was causing the effect. Anyway, cold temperatures would have the opposite effect, causing the brain to underestimate the length of a period of time - which over the course of the semester could accumulate for a discrepancy of several days at least (provided that the tendency to separate days based on our sleep cycle (which is covered in another of my philosophy journals to be posted and will therefore not be discussed here) doesn't counteract this effect). This rapid progression of time seems to have left little time for the production of additional posts - there appears to be an inverse relationship between the rate of posts and the rate of passage of time relative to the speed of cranial processing. At least for this semester. I would generalize this to the entire life of A Pilot's Ponderings, but two facts prevent me from doing this, in no particular order: 1.)Last semester didn't feel like it went that slowly, 2.)last semester I had an academic obligation to provide updates at least once ever two weeks - an obligation which as far as I know is not present this semester. There is much I have learned over these 30 weeks of class (and the intervening weeks of break) - far too much to enumerate in this already-far-too-long-given-my-current-layout(one of my first projects upon arrival home is to remove the empty left column and expand the post column to twice its current width, so as to avoid excessive wear and tear (<legal>for which I am once again not responsible</legal>) on scroll wheels, mouse buttons, page up/down keys, and any and all other methods of scrolling through large bodies of text not already mentioned herein) post (current word count (not including the actual number): 2295 (which I believe takes the trophy from my 1300 word teabag entry for my longest published work of this type). Time, technology, and motivation permitting, those may be the subject of a future post. Until then, I shall conclude this post, the last to be posted from Christie Hall 233 (unless I become good friends with the residents next year and start writing posts in their room), declaring that this is <nickname="one of many from which I lack the decisiveness to choose"/>, signing off*

*In a metaphorical sense - I'll still be connected to the internet after I press publish.

Again Connected In Spirit - I Hope They've Got Good Bandwidth

Well, the number of posts on this blog as a function of time is beginning to resemble a logistic growth curve (you know – the one that models the number of people standing during a typical standing ovation). This is partially due to the conclusion of the freshman design competition and my first semester at college, the chronicling of which was the primary (or at least the stated) purpose of the writings previously found here. I started out somewhat slowly, both because I was new to the medium, I was busy getting adjusted to life in college and thus lacked a pleuthera of free time in which to document my lack of free time, and because the design project was still young (if he won't mind the personification necessary to justify such a metaphor). Now before anyone comments (I'm wording it this way to clarify that I'm conjecturing as to the response of a typical (if by typical you mean grammar-obsessed (I'm deliberately avoiding the more commonly used term for such a person so as to not invoke Godwin's law and lose the argument (how one loses what isn't even really a logical argument, much less one in the common definition, is not immediately clear to me, but ignorance is no reason for recklessness), instead going into nested parentheses (which my stream of consciousness writings tend to do – I'll have to write a law about that)) reader, rather than implying a psychic ability to read the thoughts of a future reader (I did that once and ended up on an even larger tangent that nearly crashed my thought process with an infinite loop) during the writing of this post), I am aware that I just used both to precede a conjunction of three statements, in defiance of grammatical convention. What such a person has not considered is that such grammatical limitations are analogous to a method/function which only takes a specified number of arguments. But as we discussed today in computer science, such problems may be obviated by means of overloading. And I created an alternative definition of or that takes an array of any size. This assumes, of course, that you are using a language which supports such actions. I claim that English is such a language, just like (insert a programming language which supports such things here, but not java – java is the Esperanto of electronics). You doubt? Compile it and see for yourself. Only I'm not sure where you can find an English compiler for x86. The only one I'm aware of is for the HBNN (human brain neural network) architecture. You could try whitespace – at least it wouldn't crash on all the unrecognized words – although it'd probably give some rather interesting actions (not to self – download whitespace and try it on this post when it's done, then post the result). Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, on an airplane. Writing about how I didn't write that much here at the beginning of the semester. Posting then picked up during the semester due to additional happenings with the design project and talk like a pirate day meeting first year workshop. Then the design competition passed, dead week set in, and the posting went wek, if not dead. I think I only posted once since finals, inspired by the awesome experience of completely dismantling my laptop. At least that's what I think happened. For the second time, I'm writing a post without an internet connection (shortly after the last time – look for an entry with spirit in the title – I read about plans to offer internet on airplanes, but sadly Alaska Air has yet to implement this on my flights, and when they do it will likely be prohibitively expensive). It's possible that the post values are closer to a square root of time. But whatever the reasons, my heart or my shoes...sorry, wrong story...driven both by this realization that I hadn't written anything so far this semester, and by the addition of another person to my legion of people who know about this site (which is probably in the teens by now – excitement!), (there, I used both in its traditional sense this time) I feel that it is time I started posting here again. Well, I suppose I should be careful with that word “started”, as I am unsure as to the long term effect of this post on my overall frequency. It's possible that this will just be one step closer to the carrying capacity of this site (a value with no relation whatsoever to the storage space available, which I believe is unmetered at least for the text of posts). However, I'd prefer to think of this post as more of a heaviside function consisting of the negation of the logistic growth curve and something close to linear. What will I write? Only thyme will tell (which is why I'm going straight into my kitchen when I get home). I certainly won't write a in stream of consciousness with speculation about the decline in posts to this blog as the central theme. And I certainly won't write it in the air. And of course, I will never be sarcastic. But then, maybe I just don't know me well enough. I'm done with my tests, I'm leaving on spring break, and I've got a whole flight home ahead of me. I'm sure I'll think of something.

The anatomy of a tech support call gone wrong

Well, not really. This actually saved me days of waiting and shipping my system back and forth. For those who don't know (the lucky ones who I haven't complained to yet), I've spent most of break trying to get my computer repaired - the internal speakers were not working...except in the bootable diagnostic tool the dell techs use. I'll spare you the gory details, and I'm getting a new system shipped to me now, but one of the early repair attempts involved a motherboard replacement, which I opted to perform myself, as this laptop is quite well documented and has an extensive service manual. So, to satisfy the curiosity that you may not have even had, and in the tradition of all those "inside the iPhone" articles, below is a look at the inner workings of a Dell Vostro 1500, in hopes that you will no longer feel the urge to subject yours to similar treatment, from which it may or may not fully recover (mine did, thankfully). If you do, I warned you and I'm not responsible.
The plastic butter knife is an essential tool for any technician

Now only one question remains: Will it Blend?

Not dead yet, but weak

I begin this post at the conclusion of what has been arguably the most difficult week of my college career: Dead week. One would think that the name would conjure feelings of dread simply by the name, but such was not the case for me. In reading and hearing descriptions, I pictured it as a time when no activities were scheduled, nothing was due, and students could devote the entire week to rest and preparation for finals week. But how wrong I was. At my latest calculation, I have generated 25 pages of academic content over the course of the past week in the form of three papers. But they are complete, and I now enjoy (or at least experience) a brief respite from this stressful time before launching into what seems to be the second-most stressful week: finals. I would have expected it to be the other way around, but then there are many things in life which are not as we expect them, a fact which we must learn not only to accept but to embrace. For predictability is the enemy of brain development, a worthy goal which I believe I share with most other students here. Isn't it fun to take a statement like that and generalize it to a philosophical statement so deep that you could drown in it. Imagine what this post would be like had I begun it last night after finishing my engineering final paper, by far the longest of the three due this week. Not all of that paper was written words, making the 15 pages (all written in one night, per my usual strategy, although not so far in advance as I would have desired) not quite so intimidating as they first appeared. Yet not all pages are created equal, and perhaps the largest single portion of time was devoted to the two pages at the end which contained the design sketches. A bad artist, and possibly an overachiever, I decided to once again create a 3D model in Sketchup from which to generate top, front, side, and isometric views of the device and ramp. At first, this was not so different from my experience with the midterm report, for which I had created a similar model (and for which I lost the original file, although the designs were sufficiently different that it would likely require more effort to modify that design than to start over from scratch). However, as I progressed, I discovered that this was a far more difficult task as I was emulating reality rather than giving form to an imagined design. And our device contained far too many individual strips of wood to have been created with 3d modeling in mind (which it wasn't, although as a partner in design I should have ensured that it was). But I did successfully complete the model and the remainder of the paper.

I also have another piece of good news to share with you, my loyal readers (and I suppose for those of you who have are just discovering this site as well). As the competition is complete, I am now fully free to speak of the nature of our device. I could copy paste the much longer description from my final report. But I believe that it shall suffice to say that our device consisted of a plow with hinged arms, which pushed sandbags up and off a ramp which facilitated stacking. In the first round of the competition, a gear stripped out in one of our motors, resulting in a sickening clicking sound rather than full control of the device. But thanks to the dual motor arrangement, we managed to collect 20 bags (although stacking was impossible) and advanced to the second round (thanks to Alec having called time 5 seconds early, which served as a tiebreaker. In the second round we earned 25 points, successfully stacking 3 bags - a record, from what we hear. We came in 4th place overall, a placing with which we are happy and which is far beyond our expectations. I could continue, but I have class to prepare for, so I shall leave you with several thousand words and one link. Do with them what you will, excepting of course including them in your own paper, claiming them as your own, the above is not a legally valid license, etc etc




Credit to Alec for this sketch of the ramp

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If you would like to see the device in even greater detail, you can download the sketchup files (as well as the application in which to view them) from A Pilots Productions. And thus concludes the thousands of words, the one link, and this post.