To think of randoom is to also not think of randoom. A dichotomical schism within a whim of fanciful mirth takes form in this blog. Please handle with care.
However, that will not stop me from doing experiments! (insert maniacal laughter here).
They wouldn't let me go to school, so I had to learn on my own.
Therefore, I will most likely be edged out of most academic societies as well. Oh poo!
But not all is lost. I can create my own academic society. One of the worst kind!
A society that realizes that we know close to nothing at all as humans and all of our words and gestures are akin to the monkey's grumblings, mumblings, and hind-scratchings.
I refer to my tweet in Ro.
<Ro -- (an artificial language for international use that rejects all existing words and is based instead on an abstract analysis of ideas> From the wordnet 2.1 browser
I have no knowledge of any words in this artificial language, however I do pretend to speak or write it rather easily in this tweet:
So, if anyone out there can communicate in the artificial language of RO, and somehow I said something that can be translated into some sort of mannerism or gesture of the tailbone, then by all means let the communication commence!
P.S. In case no one at all in the existing universe is willing to speak with me on Twitter in the language of RO, someone please just play along and make it seem like it makes sense. There's bound to be a part in the follow-up post for you, I'm sure.
I found an errant wi-fi connection, that seems a bit faster than the old dial-up modems I used to use way back when so I'm glad to be able to put up this post for you all. I hope you'll understand when I tell you that it would be nearly improbable for me to upload a picture or visit after posting. I will not try the picture, but I will try a few visits.
I will now rant about various things irking me today, for I woke up in one of the foulest moods for what seemed like no reason at all.
Roomates- How many times have I told myself never to have one again? But yet it keeps happening like a broken DVR that re-records the same lame episodes of Roseanne, save without the eye candy that is Becky#2.
I've been staying put out in the digital boonies with a roomate. Without the interneck we are forced to play primitive video games, watch old dvd's, and sometimes just converse. All three things would be fun if it weren't for his penchant for arguing.
I thought I was the king of arguing until I stepped into his abode. One of his favorite pastimes is to get me into a discussion only to tell me that I love to argue. Duh! That's a given, but most times I am not the one initiating the arguing points. He is under the belief that everything he thinks is right and I'm wrong about everything. I'm usually only wrong about two things. Women and jobs. Everything else seems to have a right rigid place in my world. He doesn't see it that way and probably never will.
Wifi- There are whole cities with free wi-fi access for it's citizens and visitors. How can this be? Why do some cities like Philidelphia embrace such a great cause while my own backwater hole does nothing but cram the airwaves with secure network after secure network. It is my belief that if a person wanted to have a truly secure network, they would not broadcast the SSID. But for some reason, it's as if they know others like me have little to no means to obtain very expensive internet service and want to wave the internet they can only enjoy in their poor faces.
They tell me, "Go to McDonalds, they have free wi-fi". Well, they also have menu items, policies and practices that I cannot afford, do not condone, and will never be a part of. I would not cry if somehow every McDonalds and Walmart in the world were inexplicably vaporized one starry night.
Back to wi-fi. The only place near me that has it is a bar. I have been told that I do not have to spend any money in order to surf, but that is very bad form. If you have as little money as I do and you're in a bar, you're a cadge. So when I do get a little spending cash, I get strange looks from the regulars when I order my soda and sit in the corner.
I found a phone on the ground the other day. Finding something this personal is strange to me. If it were just a twenty dollar bill(which is about what the phone was worth), I would just go and spend it, not knowing anything about the person who dropped it. But no, this piece of electronics was chock full of this person's information. I did feel a tinge of regret when going through the photos and videos, but some of them were quite funny. Someone asked me if I were going to do the 'right' thing and return it. I told them no because although I do own a blackberry, the phone I found includes not only a camera, but a voice recorder app and a radio. The blackberry I had obtained was so old that there is no camera, and no way to listen to anything other than the very old ringtones. Rim technologies should have been ashamed of themselves when coming out with that particular device. If someone told them at the inception of it's creation that someone would prefer a tracphone to their device, they would have laughed until they puked. I'm not laughing, nor puking. Haha.
Google Cars, or the driverless vehicle- I am a huge fan of this branch of innovation. I myself have lived through 4 car accidents and will never drive again. I've come to terms with being a pedestrian all of my life. Then I hear about the driverless vehicle and start dreaming. Some of those dreams are fluffy and light, but others end in calamity. Example.
The first google car to be purchased may do very well. It may do so well that another thousand of them are bought( Universe knows I won't be able to afford one). But once a driverless vehicle gets into a crash, all bets will be off. The victims in both vehicles will be justly compensated in their choice of google glasses or stock options(I can sense people will go for the glasses), leaving the rest of the driverless fleet grounded until legislation can be passed to make the safer roads even more safer. So, these thousand or so people who buy one and get all fuzzy inside will regret their purchase when all of them are shut-down and they are offered cab rides and carpools to ease their pains.
I don't mean to be a ninny, but I'm very certain that only a portion of drivers would go to a driverless car. Part of the allure of driving is having control. If you told someone that you can make them safer by taking away control, they'd tell you 'no thanks'. So about the only people who will buy into this phenomenon are the drunk, the blind, and the hopeless pedestrians like me(well like me but with enough money to buy a car). That's not enough to matter. It won't change the world to make it a safer place. Until people relinquish their perceived control, the driverless car will travel nowhere.
That's it for now, but I'll be popping in a bit more frequently. For it is spring, and my heart has sprung. I may be old, but I'm not dead. I refuse to do that alone.
I've temporarily taken this blog out of stasis to get a few things down about how this year is progressing. Yeah, an update post, which may or may not be regarded as a real post.
The learning by myself has been going ok. I had downloaded some pretty cool tutorials, only some of which I could actually use. I made this pretty lighthouse scene with it.
Watch out for those pixelated rocks!
I've also worked on a few products/inventions that I had in my head, but had never put into graphics. I'm only going to tease with this, since the subjects involved are very sensitive. I'm in the midst of coming up with:
Atmospheric Cylindrical Return Toy- A boomerang that's not actually a boomerang.
The PPP unit. This thing takes reaching out to touch someone to a different level. Many levels, ha!
Trampogine- A power generation unit that takes the energy from footfalls and converts it to various other
types of energy.
On the living front, I feel as if I live in the Antarctic sometimes. The city here doesn't provide free wi-fi, and the state and country are on the same page with the lack of access, so I'm floundering most of the time to figure something out using old-world methods that just aren't good enough.
My . occupation at the moment is one of bad houskeeper and so-so personal chef. I get room, board, and revelries out of the bargain, but without some spending and saving cash, I despair to think what would happen if this were my permanent and last occupation.
I thought about doing a little political piece who's working title is "The Mexicanization of the U.S.". It would feature the reasons why I feel that the NLR(Non-Legal-Residents)s should not be given amnesty and allowed to become citizens of the U.S. without taking the legal and prescribed steps already laid out. I'm all for immigration, this country is a melting pot. But most of the ingredients added lately were legal, meaning they learned all they could about the process and took it upon themselves to learn about our ways and laws. Out of all of the reasons why they don't wish to take the test, some of the nlrs I've spoken to tell me it's because they do not wish to speak english, nor do they want to know the laws. That is a very scary thing to me. If I were wanting to become a citizen of any other land, I would do everything I could to learn the ways and tongue of the place. This 'language discrimination' does not only tie in with illegal immigrants, it also goes deep to the heart of our institutes of higher learning.
Okay, if I go any further, I'd have written that post, so I'll just leave that there as a tease. To clear up any assumptions of me being intolerant, I attest that I have friends of all creeds, colors, and religions. My enemies, however, only come in one flavor. Guess.
So, I'm very glad to have been able to write this and put the picture here for you today. The more I stay away from posting, the closer I am to dying without saying all that I have to say. Let's hope that doesn't happen.
I am both flabergasted and fascinated at how fast we've come to arrive here.
If any of you had a great time at a 12-12-12 party, I'm jealous because I totally forgot.
That's right, you can mark it down on your calendar that I, Shockgrubz, forgot to celebrate something.
Don't fret, I had a great time, whatever it was that I was doing.
Speaking of doing, I once spoke a promise to several people of providing a little guest post.
I've done it. Well, some of them. First up is Workingdan, Gluttondan, er, Dan from Shamefulpromotions.com and Sinquiry. If you don't know him, and never visited his site, do so now. If you don't, or are just waiting until you finish my post,I'll tell you that he's a great guy who represents life's joys and struggles in a very theraputic and fun-lovng way. I'dswear he and I were best friends in a previous life, if we existed previously. If so, I hope I came through on every promise I gave him then, as well.
I've procrastinated and procrastinated with the guest post enough that I'm fairly sure that he would take me off of the wall of shame.Hell, I remember him threatening to do so once in some comedic or serious extent. I'm amazed he's as patient as I am. I never thought I'd see the day I found someone with the same slow spirit of stubbornness and resilient poise that I exude, just like some thought they'd never see the guest post. I doubted myself at one point, creating elaborate excuses for the missing text. In the creation of some of those, I found that therapy was the theme.
The particular piece was written through both fictional and non-fictional sources. I took experiences from a previous relationship to set the scenes. I had a girlfriend who was dying of cancer. Her previous lover had suddenly left her once the news of her terminal prognosis set in. I showed up in her life and became a shining beacon of eternal youth in a time of depressing reality. She helped foster my artistic side, and treated all of my works with the utmost respect and accurate critisism.
Near the end of our relationship, her previous lover had found life without her suddenly harsh and returned with his tail between his legs. I could not compete with the amount of history that he had with her, and although I did fight and cry to have her keep me, I lost her. She died a year later, leaving her newly wed husband and two kids from previous marriages to pick up the pieces. I found out of her eventual demise not long after, and in the greiving process set a seed for this story.
It deals with lovers, hair, secrets, and grief therapy. I took liberties to include my ever-so obvious obsession with onomatopoeia because I'm shamelessly proud of noises, and I am submitting this to Shameless Productions, after all. Please have a look.
Inamorata
I also promised Mark from The Rambling Person a guest post. I said it might be NSFW, but it ended up being SFW because I'm a chicken.
Anyway, I really like Mark and his Immortal Space story is one of my favorites. Have a visit, and I dare you to like him and his ramblings as much as I do.
Mark and I both the affinity for Sci-Fi in common, so I penned a little tale with some futuristic, but realistic elements.
Shaze's Day at the Grocery
Shaze is a twenty-five year old man who has shunned the traditional way of life for a more survivalist/slacker lifestyle. Although his days aren't dictated by a 'boss', he still has to stand in state-aide lines and subject himself to the body of governmental medical aid. In obtaining food assistance, Shaze checked a box labeled "Experimental Allowance" that was hidden on the back of the fifth page of the application. He did not keep reading the fine print after he saw that it would give him an additional fifty dollars a month for food. If he would have kept going, he would have found out that he just waived his right to modify his own body. His body belonged to the government, and to prove it, they inserted an RFID chip in his finger to make him one of the first in the experimental aide group.
His finger had healed up and he had mostly forgot about the little encapsulated chip in his finger when he went to sleep the day before the seventh. His food aide came on the seventh and he couldn't wait to eat, so he dreamt of gorging on platters of the best bounties.
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I've also found that I am migrating OS and graphics programs. This is a jarring change, but has to happen before 12-21-12(FRIDAY!). I'm now using Blender instead of CorelDream3d. The previous program was written and sold in 1997, so I was very overdue in changing Blender is a very technical graphics suite , even more so than my old clunky program. My coding friend had suggested Blender this summer, and I told him I'd look it up. That ended up being a lot later. I don't know why I don't rush my searches for change, maybe stubborness. I ended up searching for "3d Sculpting" and it was on the front page. My first impression was "Why didn't I know about this sooner?" Probably because I hadn't searched before or listened to my friend.
I'm in love with the program, but I'm also very challenged. One of my issues is the very high learning curve. There are so many menus, sub-menus, tweaks, adjustments, bells and whistles that I don't know what to make from a lot of the program, but I'm picking it up in pieces at a time.
Not to say I'm not practicing. I logged my practice hours in the week I've been working with it and it adds up to 80 hours. In a week? Did I tell you I love this program already? 80 hours is proof. Also writing this post on the imbedded text editor is proof. I'll get better, soon. I'll share my progress with you.
Also, I'm jumping out of my OS portal to Linux. I've needed this change for a very long time. I was scared of terminal. I don't know why, I used to enjoy the stuffing out of old MS-Dos, why wouldn't I hug up to a cute little penguin? Because windows spoiled me. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. If I were forced to go to a command prompt before going into the GUI, then I wouldn't be so scared of the change. I've faced my fears enough to load a version of linux on a flash drive and test out the OS without
fully migrating. I like it, but I've got to practice more to put it on my hard drive.
This post is getting way long, so I'll say good-bye for now. If we survive the 12-21-12 I'll be partying like it was 12-20-21, and toasting to you!
TL;DR
Guest post for Working/Glutton/Dan- Inamorata*link to be included after publishing
I rendered this one to be huge because 200 is huge to me.
I've grown, thanks to you. P-A-R-T-Y time! No better way to enjoy the time between holidays than to toot a horn.
The distinction of my growth goes to all of you. The latest of which is Blogger World Directory. The timing could not be more perfect, with the world and blogger both changing at about the same pace(which is dreadfully/thankfully faster than my own pace).
Sometimes I visit Randoom's statistics to check how it's progressing. After doing so recently, I decided to categorize my blog by popularity in views, +1's, and comments.
My most searched and viewed post is the one where I review a short movie from another country. 469 views in 6 months.
I'm glad to be this small and a random blog to boot, but this seemingly tiny three digit number is telling me something. It tells me that I can get a moderate amount of traffic by doing more of those same types of posts. Taking the screenshots and posting them to describe the action is what caused the bulk of the search traffic, so I'll do the same for the other shorts. I'll try to find the gems of different countries and review them. If at all possible, I will see if there are ways to post the whole short to the post.
There are a total of six plus-one'd posts that someone has deemed worthy of being in a positive state. After filtering them, I see that they all contain something created from me to interact with or otherwise honor others. 6 +1's.
The most commented post is where I discuss a previous position I held in life. This area may provide more fruit as I have held many different types of positions in life, and can afford advice to all who may walk that same trek. 93 comments
If we all survive the Mayan calendar debacle, then you shall see this grubz shine. Even if all meet our end on 12-21-12, I would have provided those who I've promised guest posts their due reward. That's right, next post will feature a guest post link!
Until next time, be good or at least be good at it!
So, now it's almost Thanksgiving and I don't have a post in November. I'm really slacking. I'm usually flaky, but this is even out of range for me. I've worked on a few things in the interim. I've outlined my Sci-Fi story, designed the outlying frame of a quadcopter, and danced, danced, danced.
I love dancing. For some strange reason, when I dance, I feel like it has a Moonwalker effect and becomes contagious enough for others to join in. If I'm in the wrong place when I dance, there's bound to be heaps of trouble. Some bad dance spots:
Doing the Samba in line for social services.
This is bad because most queues for government handouts include some of the worlds most clumsiest dancers. Most have excuses for bumping the ticket dispenser off it's hinges, but even those without excuses don't have room enough to shake their money makers correctly.
Swing dancing in the grocery store. Squeezing the melons may be against the rules in a grocery, but so should swing dancing. First, there's the lack of room. The only spot that would even allow a front-to-back twirling transfer is the produce section. Even then, the bag rollers end up catching on the dancer's feet, wrapping their tootsies in polyethylene film.
Pop and Locking in Jail. If you're unlucky enough to get to spend the night in the pokey, the robot will not make your slumber any better. Your display of joint manipulation turns into a showcase of double-jointedness and ambidexterity that only enrages the not-so-skilled cellmates. They cry and moan in thier attempts to move their gangly limbs in effort to make them look dislocated. When failing, they end up doing the dislocation the old fashioned way. Pop!
The whirling dervish whirl on a rollercoaster. Those security bars they tighten down are there for a reason. Too keep you from whirling around and infecting the other passengers with the dance bug. If everyone were to be able to have the joy of dancing while enjoying the exhilaration of the ride, then everyone aboard would perish from too much fun. Can't have people dying that way, nope.
So, there you have it. It's not much, but I'm sorry. I would also be apologetic for the ad, but I love shoes and have just been accepted to opt-in to the affiliate spots. In their appropriate use, I hope to get enough for a device that will allow me to update far more often.
Have a great day, and I hope to read and comment on a few of your blogs before my battery goes kaput.
Greetings, fellow bloggers! It is I, Shockgrubz, who bring you a mystery filled with sorrow and intrigue. This time of the year, things go bump in the day as well as the night. Here's the set up.
A few years ago I was searching around on a database of unsolved crimes. I'm not sure whether my investigative mind or my lack of funds was the motivator in looking, but in any case, I delved into one that was near my location and over ten years old.
A woman who worked at a local school was coming home from the grocery store one fall evening. Her attacker came for her as she was unloading the bags of food. He shot her and fled.
That is the whole account. No description of the shooter at all. I had nothing to go on, so I thought of what I could do.
I'd dabbled in photography and spirits both separately before, but this time I decided to mix them together to see what I could find out.
I went to the building to take a few hundred snaps. The structure was foreboding on that winter day. From the ground, the five stories seemed like ten, looking through the viewfinder of my camera. I chose my shots to include as many windows as possible. I thought that I'd capture a clue there.
After checking only a few of the pictures, my eyes started glazing over and I would close the photo editor. Minutes later I would remember having closed it and not realized why. Then I would open it back up. This happened seven times before I left the whole thing alone for a long time.
Until yesterday. I wanted to make a nice Halloween picture to put on my blog. I remembered the creepy feelings I got when I took a pic of the windows at that building and started messing around with it.
I must describe how I messed with it, because of the shapes in the windows. They were there before I did any editing of the picture. I selected a box within each window and messed around with the colors. That brought out the shapes you see, that were already there, just blended with the colors before the edit. Before I discuss what I think each window holds, I'll put the picture here.
Through the first window, we see the woman, possibly in a flowing nightgown. Here is where my perception might stray a bit from yours. I see her chewing on a balding man's ear while the man is holding a rapier between his teeth. I cannot for the life of me discern what this would mean in relation to the initial crime, but the ghosts hardly ever give hard-line clues.
The middle window contains an imp of immense destructive power. From far away he looks kind of cuddly, like an ewok, but get up close and you see his three faces. Each one laughing, grimacing, or howling with maniacal laughter. His presence was there the day of the shooting, I'm sure of it.
The final(rightmost) window seems empty, which is what I come up with when trying to pinpoint the killer. I may never get to give that woman's family closure, or obtain a reward for my investigative fruits, but we can be sure of one thing. It makes for some good RANDOOM mystery!
