Subterranean Beefworks

Rallye Battoru Shouzen

If I may direct your attention to the right-hand panel of the screen, you'll notice that I've updated my CMR3 records.

In what is best described as a relapse, my addiction to CMR3 as returned once again, sure as the changing phases of the moon. It was envigorating to return once again to the game that pulled me into the racing scene, after having spent many sleepless nights chasing records in its sequal, CMR4. I am now of the firm conviction that CMR4 does not supercede its predecessor. In spite of subtle tweaks to the physics engine, some more jarring crashes, and some sugar-coated additions to interactivity, CMR4 simply does not embrace the spirit of racing the way 'Three does. Looser, acrobatic, almost frantic speed is what I feel when playing 'Three, as I battle the four arrow keys; fighting to remain balanced enough to hit the apex of a corner at the fastest entry speed managable, and to gun the engine at the precisely proper moment of exit. When playing 'Four, I simply don't feel that cold gripping feeling of impending failure as the tires flirt with friction coefficients, or that hot rush through my forearms as I pounce onto a straightway after landing the corner. I imagine that at some point, I will reinstall CMR4, but to return now would be akin to a meal of quarter pounders and milkshakes after a long standing diet of vegetables and whole wheat breads.

The rivalry.
If you've been following, and I'm sure you haven't, there have been some very interesting developments that bring the respective scores of Mitsubishi and Subaru to a tense and teetering equilibrium. Astoundingly, a new cornering technique emerged on the track which served to eviscerate many long-standing records, in some cases exposing once impressive times as veritably laughable.

The stages of Spain were shown a stunningly vulgar display as Subaru's WRX 44S scathed the spanish countryside, gouging out a nearly 25.18 second total improvement, the most shocking of which was handed down in Caldes de Boi--9.81 seconds surgically removed from the previous record.

Subaru very obviously favored the 44S this time around, spending very little, if any gas in the 22B STi. When questioned about this apparent strategy, especially given the sparkling success of the STi in previous bouts, Subaru could only offer the vacuous confession that, "the driver simply feels more comfortable in the 44S lately."

It surely shows, but if more evidence is what you need, look no further than the United States. Subaru returned from the USA Rallye with an unthinkable 03:15 improvement in Crystal Creek, a record that was thought to be set in granite long ago. The newly discovered cornering prowess brought home bacon from Glen Cove (-02:28) to Cheyenne Canyon (-06:62), prompting local liquor stores to increase their stocks of Veuve-Cliquot, though grudgingly, as it hurts them to see such fantastic champagne spilled on car hoods and racing fatigues.

All was not celebratory for Subaru, however. As word spread about new methods of taking the corner, adjusted entry speeds to emphasize intertial grip over drift, Mitsubishi stormed into Japan to thoughtlessly, sadistically lay waste to the prized territory once thought to forever fly the Blue and Gold flag.

Mitsubishi vanquished Subaru from Japan, a torrent of skill approaching ribald proportions. An improvement 24.35 seconds placed them well beyond Blue's current reach, that number quantified from a mere five stages, the remaining two still held precariously in Subaru's slippery grip.

01:18 from Shinshushinmachi, a stage once thought to be unapproachable by Mitsubishi. 05:88 lobbed off Hakuba. Subaru weeps. A 07:37 ectomy from Omachi. Subaru finds a dark sad corner in which to curl up. Shiojiri sees an 03:83 improvement. Subaru begins to darkly consider its place in this world. Mitsubishi rubs salt (and lemon juice, and feces, and lye) into the wound: 06:09 improvement in Tatsuno. Lamely, Subaru managed to counter the onslaught with -00:88 in Okaya, as well as an impressive, albeit moot -04:96 in Matsumoto.
But the truth is clear as day: Subaru may never reclaim superiority in Japan.

Perhaps to save face, Blue seiged Australia and after much toil, managed to reclaim the long covetted stages of Cundering, Wyemando, and Rockingham, previously the unfettered stomping grounds of Mitsubishi's gravel-seizing suspension. But after the carnage of Japan, one is left to wonder how much it really matters.

It's a beautiful time for racing. With every resurgence, surprises and upsets abound, opening the next chapter of a rivalry that shows no signs of resolution. Both teams have hinted at hiatus, returning to their respective corners to collect themselves and train out from beneath the harsh lights of competition. One can scarcely begin to imagine the forms in which they will return.

fuckin bored.

I got to be mad today for a little bit. It's been a really rainy week, and save for a few whiny kids accompanied by push-over parents, there hasn't been anyone swimming at the pool. (I work at the state park pool, taking admission).

I got to be mad today because the new park manager doesn't really know how things worked before he came along. In the past, the old manager would close the pool early but send me up to the contact station where I could finish out my day and not be screwed out of income. This dude instead sent me home. Sent me home! christ.

It's not even so much that I lost money. Even more irksome is that I really start to enjoy the challenge of wasting time. Today I was told I could no longer make money for hollowing out almonds with paper clips, or doing the Jumble.

Work yesterday was golden. There was a camping group and a boyscout troop that came, but that's pretty much it. Off an on, I read about 136 pages of The Bourne Identity. In between reading, one project was to unfold a paper large paperclip and shove it into a hole on the vertical side of the desk. I stuck it in as deeply as I possibly could, with the goal of getting it out somehow. For maybe an hour I played around with various junk that's in the booth, using other paperclips, scotch tape, some weird brass nozzle that doesn't fit on anything I've ever seen, a weird wrench for square screws, and finally a pair of scissors. I was successful in extracting the paperclip.

I also thought it might be fun to engrave nuts from my trail mix. I made a toothy grin out of some crescent-shaped nut, and I carved picture of a bicycle into an almond, that is, I shaved a flat face onto one side of it using the end of the paperclip and painstakingly etched the bike into the exposed almondy goodness. That soon turned boring, and the bike came out terribly, so I carved out a concavity and made a tiny little dish fit for a chipmunk's soup bowl. Cute.

A previous project was when I engraved the image of one of our smiley stamps onto a lense I found that fell out of someone's sunglasses, again with a paperclip. It came out pretty good too. It was hard work, but rewarding. Now I have a lense with a smiley face carved on it. Stamps always lend themselves to idle fun. With scotch tape, you can tape over the stamp and then play with scotch tape that has something printed on it. One day I found a really large rubber band, and what I did was this: I would place it over the business end of the stamp, a few sections at a time, stretched. Then I would release tension on the rubber band, thusly shrinking the segment of the stamp image on it, and stick it to the wall. Put together, I could make stamps of different shapes and proportions, amazing any of the other clerks who would work there. They would say "wow, how did that person make the stamp so flexible?"

A fun game is the "rubber band wrapped with twig" game. You just wrap a rubberband around a small pece of stick and flick it into the air. Then you try to catch it. If you miss, you get to see the stick bounce around for a bit before trying again.

I've done other things like trying to make as many right-angle bends in a paper clip as possible, and then spend some time making sure everything that should be parallel is parallel. It never quite looks perfect though. I don't like that game very much. Sometimes I'm blessed with the task of a rescue mission. Some exotic looking bug gets stuck inside my booth, and I have to get it outside somehow, using pen boxes, stamp caps, and change envelopes. Of course, the bug isn't a bug, but somebody stranded somewhere, like on a mountain or in a cave. The extract-paperclip-from-hole-in-desk project was also a rescue mission. The paper clip was a group of teenagers who had ventured too deep into a cave and got themselves in trouble. I was about to tell them that they'd have to spend the night in the cave (the next day I would bring needle nose pliers) when I managed to get them out with the scissors. Needless to say, there was much jubilation.

That's what I like about my job. It's excruciatingly boring, but looking at all the ways there are to pass time, it becomes funny, rewarding even.

So you can imagine my dismay when I was told I would be going home 3 hours early. Shit. In 3 hours I could've pulverized another coffee cup or made another nut carving. Oh well.

Upgraded.

Well the little spamming incident got me to peel my ass from the lazy couch and perform the menial task of upgrading to Moveable Type 3.01D. It went off without a hitch and I am happy to say that although the new back-end interface is uglier, it is much more functional, especially when it comes to managing comments, both rogue and beneign.

If things are configured right, then any such comment bombing should be quickly stymied by throttling and autobanning. It's nice to see change for the better.

In other news, now that I have a job that doesn't pay in dimes and snot, I've been shopping for things that I've been meaning to buy. The first purchase I made was a pair of Birkenstock Tatami sandals, from the discontinued Colorado line. They err on the rugged side of the stream and are excruciatingly comfortable, to the point where I only wish I weighed a bit more so I could sink deeper into the infinately supportive cork/latex sole. I'm in the process of breaking them in, following loosely the suggested ritual of 1 hour of wear on day one, 2 on day two, and so on. Hints of progress show in the vague dan-toe shapes where my toes sit. I can't wait till they're all stretched out and dirtified.

I've also taken this opportunity to end the long-running shit situation concerning input devices for my computer. My keyboard is loud, ungainly, with keys that stick simply because Dell is a shitty designer/manufacturer. My mouse has become irrepairably sticky; the left button sends a click event before the button has been completely pressed; and it causes the curser to sometimes do unappreciated dances. So I bought a new keyboard, a Logitech Ultra X and another 5 button Microsoft Intellimouse Optical. These purchases have been a long time coming.

That's all for writing now. I'm back on track. Although frequent updating in the near future isn't guaranteed, since the post-proliferating novelty of an upgraded weblog wears off pretty fast.

blank

There really isn't anything to write about I guess.

Await the resurgence, I suppose.

peace outtie.

[UPDATE: 7-24-04]

Due to some sort of spam terrorism, I was forced to ban anyone from making comments. I'm going to keep it closed until I update MT to a newer version, which supposedly has anti-spam capabilities.

On the bright side, I now know where to find all the best in indian sex, midget sex, fucking sex, sex apes, simpsons sex, teenage sex, and a host of other thing's that are really really exciting. I guess there's a silver lining to every cloud.

what title?

Maybe i'll update when i'm less pissy.

sod off twonks

yoaaaaaaaaa

usually i can figure out who the mystery comment posters are, but this one has me stumped.

jjs. fuck.

i need just one more good hint.

bald fuq

I'm going to go do my laundry, if it's all the same to you.

Change of perspective

I'm not going to say a whole lot about this, but today my perspective changed a little bit.

I used to be pretty apathetic about children. Before today, I knew that I wanted to have them, but until now, I've regarded them as little more than parts of the scenery. What more was there to consider about these little miniature people leading their simple little lives?

Something transpired today that has changed my apathy to a deeply running appreciation. I couldn't have understood this as I now do without it being presented in a disturbing context, which although unfortunate, does imply that some good came of a situation so upsetting. Events today changed how I look at the world, and even if it's only my heart that feels a new vehemence, then I guess not all has gone to hell.

Kids are treasures beyond any conceivable measure of worth. Every little kid in the world is worth more than every atom in the universe, even though most if not all of us forget or fail to realize this during the routine of our lives. When people lose focus of what matters, it is at the expense of kids who then have to grow up shouldering that much more unnecessary garbage. Polluting a childhood with the contemptible and petty concerns of adulthood is heinous beyond any bloody war or act of human hatred.

There's no good way to close a heart-felt exposition, the impetus of which was purposefully left vague. Sorry about that. All there is left to say is, "have you hugged your kid today?"