Fear and Loathing in Philadelphia

6:00 am. There is something brutal and savage about stepping off a red-eye flight into the flickering fluorescent wash at Philadelphia to the tune of stock classical music, like a low-budget stage production of Clockwork Orange - any second now, I fear, my generally unorthodox wardrobe will spark senseless violence and mayhem. Then again, anyone voluntarily leaving California - especially as we begin this inevitable march towards Winter - is clearly expecting a rude shock to the system. Cats meow from somewhere in the open-concept holding cell known as The Waiting Area; before my sleep-deprived sensory apparatus has time to square this with the whole airport thing, a woman starts jerkily dancing along with the classical fare over out front of Gate B-13. There is a scent of rank feral desperation about the place, augmented by the ringtone interjections of crudely-produced hip-hop. The double shot of bourbon back in SFO has long worn off, leaving me woefully unequipped to handle the sort of ultraviolence that is surely headed my way. I hear they still have Public Lynchings in those pleasant atavistic backwaters of this fine country, and I can certainly muster enough blasphemy to make the ticket...

God Jesus! It seems the spirit of Hunter S. Thompson has crept into my brain, a direct frontal assault from the pages of my newly-finished copy of Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72. If you would claim to understand the intricate meanderings of politics, read this book - a better account of the haphazard chaos behind your average televised presidential campaign has never been given. No major newspaper could print this with a straight face without immediately forcing the termination of half their editorial staff, with the heads to be mailed to Washington for public display...and it seems my connecting flight is boarding, judging by the impatient queue slowly lurching towards the open gate. More to follow...

The Eleventh Hour

Aside from being the title of an awesome children's book (which may or may not still reside on my shelves), this phrase adequately sums up my situation here. I've got slightly under 72 hours to polish and document my Graphics project, touch up an essay on Church's solution to the Entscheidungsproblem of Hilbert's Program, and - of course! - push the trains struggle as far as possible.

(Yes, I know you can see the edges of the skybox in the above image. I probably won't have time to change that before the Graphics demo.)

On the real-time front, we've had a very fortunate breakthrough; the sensor polling bug fell before a quick debugging sprint yesterday morning. We're driving hard to get route-finding working tonight, as this will leave us all of Tuesday (as mentioned, I have other things to worry about tomorrow!) to put together our final demo. Given the time constraints, we'll likely have to go with something almost braindead-simple; the plan currently being floated around is to hack together a cat-and-mouse game using the trains.

But enough about schoolwork! I'm off to Germany on the 30th. Let's hope I manage to drag my bedraggled body to Pearson in time!

Final note: this blog has been very one-dimensional over the last month. Given my situation, this is perhaps understandable; nevertheless, I shiver with antici-

Delay(60);    // pause for 3s (one tick == 50 ms)

-pation at the prospect of having something other than Graphics or Real-Time to talk about.

Little 5

(Not to be confused with Big5.) 5 hours of plane travel each way (despite the fact that a direct flight would probably take less than 2.) 5 pictures (four of airports and one of the best beer selection I've seen since...so I forgot to take real pictures. Oops.) 5 ten-spots laid out for extended-stay parking at YOW. 5 pancakes shuttled down my gaping maw. (At least I think it was 5. Really, the pan-sized ones can count for anywhere between 2 and 3 - say, e pancakes.) 5 bottles/cans of beer partaken of in the weekend. Coincidence? I think so. Anyways, Little 5 weekend was an absolute blast - I'd write more about it, but that's already been done for me.

Nobles Paroles, Seigneur Gardakan!

 

A while back, I promised some basic regularity in my postings here. I've been somewhat lax with that, so here's the first in a rapid succession of updates covering my numerous activities this previous fortnight.

The weekend of April 17-19 brought me the inestimable bewilderment and pleasure of two lifetime firsts. It was my first visit to the beautiful bastion of historical import that is Quebec City. I only received a cursory overview of the city proper, however; the bulk of my weekend was spent engaging in the sort of faux-chicanery alluded to by the above snapshot. (I've got a few more here, among other random photos.) Yes - it was also my first time engaging in the bizarre yet alluring world of Live Action Role-Playing, which translates in French to the somewhat more poetic Grandeur Nature.

Imagine a weekend-long costume party where the attendees actually put in some effort, throw in some overtones of medieval fantasy, toss it all together with a heavy dose of guerilla theatre, and garnish lightly with pencil-and-paper role-playing geekdom. That gives some idea of the atmosphere here.

Of course, Imagika is one of the more politically-involved games out there, and so I spent much of my time randomly milling about while grasping desperately for some context as to how exactly a debate on slavery, a war against the descendants of dragons, the birth of a new god, a wayward monk whose teachings instilled madness, a roving band of necromantic cultists, and countless other subplots were connected. Owing to my status as a weak newcomer, I also spent a good deal of time faking death while awaiting the kindness of capable healers. Peu importe - it was still loads of fun, and I might even consider taking part in Waterloo By Night if my habitually overloaded schedule permits!

Photographic Evidence!

Speaking of Japan, the pictures from that trip are now available for public consumption. Enjoy!