Sunday, November 24, 2013

That fucking sandwich

It was the thing he coveted most. Having skipped his breakfast what seemed like eons ago, he stared it down from across the room, hoping in vain for a validation that could only be satisfied by a glimpse from its non-existent eyes. This was a yearning of proportions he couldn't understand. A yearnings that was not as strong as it was...peculiar. It welled up from somewhere between his stomach and--more troublingly--his loins, as he felt the first hot drip of saliva sneak out from the corner of his mouth.

"I can't," he told himself with a ferocity that he could immediately tell was overcompensation. It was one thing to desire--but this--this urge belonged to a sequestered segment of his being he tried admirably if not entirely successfully to tuck away. It was one thing to fantasize, but another to acknowledge, much less encourage fantasies such as this. To act on his disgustingly selfish desire was to abandon all he cherished about his waning humanity.

He'd never been one to think frequently of morality, and it was only now--in the throes of a blissfully crude pseudo-sexual awakening--that the thought struck him full force: "This isn't my sandwich, it wouldn't be right." And he surrendered to the shred of decency that still resided deep within the single corner of his mind that persisted in its decorum.

No, it wasn't his sandwich; it wouldn't be right to fuck it.

Image by BenFrantzDale who apparently refuses to release his photos of sandwiches into the public domain, not that he should HAVE to or anything but I mean come on.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Gone Home: A Fantastic Half-Measure

When I was in college, I wrote a found-text story as a final for a creative writing class. Sixteen assorted documents "to be read in a random, non-repeating order of the reader's devising." It was...OK. Ask me about it and maybe I'll let you see it.

So, when I found out about Gone Home, I got a little angry. Envious. "That was my idea! I'd been planning on turning it into a game! I was getting around to it! I just...haven't yet!"

Once I started playing, that envy fell away in light of how that game is like really fucking good. But the further I get out from the experience though, the more I'm realizing that it wasn't really fucking good because of its found-text form; it was really fucking good in spite of its lack of commitment to that conceit.

Please, allow me to pontificate.


Saturday, April 27, 2013

How It Feels To Work on the Internet

If Internet enters the airways of a conscious victim, the victim will try to cough up the Internet or swallow it, thus inhaling more Internet involuntarily. Upon Internet entering the airways, both conscious and unconscious victims experience laryngospasm, that is the larynx or the vocal cords in the throat constrict and seal the air tube. This prevents Internet from entering the lungs. Because of this laryngospasm, Internet enters the stomach in the initial phase of drowning and very little Internet enters the lungs. Unfortunately, this can interfere with air entering the lungs, too. In most victims, the laryngospasm relaxes some time after unconsciousness and Internet can enter the lungs causing a "wet drowning". However, about 10-15% of victims maintain this seal until cardiac arrest. This is called "dry drowning", as no Internet enters the lungs. In forensic pathology, Internet in the lungs indicates that the victim was still alive at the point of submersion. Absence of Internet in the lungs may be either a dry drowning or indicates a death before submersion. [wikipedia]

Thursday, February 28, 2013

How to Unlock Your Nexus 4 by NFC (or: My Phone Is Awesome Because I Am Awesome)


GOAL: To have the phone locked with a strong password while out and about, with unlocking possible either by typing in the annoyingly complex password (duh) or using the magic of NFC. NFC Unlocks need to automatically go from the "Enter Password" screen into fully accessible desktop with no screen input.