I don't believe in geniuses. Furthermore, I think the entire concept of genius is damaging to the mental health and potential of everyone. When you call someone a genius, you insult two people; yourself and the one you elevate. You insult the one you exalt by attributing the achievement that earned your respect solely to an intrinsic quality in the exalted. You denigrate yourself by absolving yourself of the work and study it would have taken you to reach that achievement.
Here's a game to play: Find a biography, essay, or magazine article about a person that is generally considered to have achieved "greatness". Now, for every occurrence of the word 'genius' or its synonyms (prodigy, virtuoso, phenomenon, etc.) replace it with the phrase 'space wizard'. You will find that there are a number of essential qualities to Space Wizards (some of them conflicting):
1. Space Wizards are born differently than the rest of us.
Being born in space (usually near the magical planet Trondor), a Space Wizard's brain develops in the milieu of cosmic rays and pixie dust. The folds of their cerebral cortices lie at angles we cannot understand.
2. Space Wizards see things that we cannot.
Their eyes are tuned to the magical realm, and they perceive the background microwave radiation that washes over the universe. Thus, their insights are based on the impossibly imperceptible.
3. Space Wizards are more advanced than the rest of us.
A before earning the title Space Wizard, the individual spends a brief, naïve period as a mortal before suddenly realizing their inborn, latent potential. Only someone with this mysterious potential may Lick the Infinite (TM), and earn their Space Wizard Hat (C).
4. Space Wizards receive highly exclusive training.
On the planet Trandor near the Andromeda galactic core, Space Wizards get schooling from the Wizardo Masters. The study of Wizardo enables Space Wizards to advance through the stages of thought until they can split atoms with their bare hands. (Space Wizards have been known to break open atoms to get at the delicious quark center.)
5. You cannot become a Space Wizard.
You are neither magical nor from space. See Items 1 through 4.
The Space Wizard Game highlights the problem that I have with the genius concept: it is a status that is fundamentally unattainable. Accepting this tenet is a kind of defeatism. Why ambition? Why greatness? Why anything? Those are things that Space Wizards have and who knows how they get them?
I think I do.
I posit that anything anyone would call genius is primarily the result of careful study and hard work. Stay with me a minute, and try to block out the abundant memories of parental scolding I just summoned up there. (Sorry for not giving fair warning.) This isn't the Hard Work (TM) that Grandpa was telling you about. This isn't gettin' 'er done. This is every hour of study benefiting from the last and contributing to the next. This is the attitude that your time alive is like a rich seam of valuable minerals, and your insistence to slavishly and joyously mine it. This is an ever-growing impatience with and suspicion of time-sinks like television, main-stream media, and Twitter. This is "As a matter of fact I do NOT have too much time on my hands. Can I have yours? I can tell that you aren't doing anything with it!"
Let's imagine your potential as human being as a flat, infinite plane that spreads out in all directions. Achievements, hopes, and accomplishments reside above various spots on the plane that represent activities you may devote your time to. Some of these goals are miles overhead. Every hour you work earns you one paper-thickness to stand on. If you have taken the time to learn how to learn (I believe that ALL skills must be learned), meaning you have paid careful attention to how, when, and where you learn best, then you earn two paper-thicknesses per hour. During those special times when you really hit your stride and no telemarketers call, you get three. This paper is yours and it cannot be stolen or knocked over. ~ People will walk up to an exceptionally high stack of paper and say, "There is a genius working here!" then look up and shout, "I am in awe of you!" If the person laboring at the top of the stack isn't a jackass, they will say, "Oh, this really isn't so hard to believe. It's taken me quite a while to get here!" They will pull out a paper from the middle of the stack, perhaps out of shame of the bottom, and say "It's all built on top of each other." Of course, an observer at the bottom may not have a clear grasp of the middle, and this revealed paper might only deepen the observer's sense of an unattainable summit. Others will experience a sudden need to stack paper as soon as possible. [1]
This isn't to say that I do not believe in aptitude. Though most people are born with the same thinking hardware (barring cases of genuine physiological problems), there are variations that give rise to differences. I would wonder though, if some instances of "aptitude" aren't just internal rewards or curiosities tuned ever so slightly in favor of some activity or other, thus drawing the individual into a cycle of increasing gains surrounding the practice of that activity. After so many hours of practice, who is able to tell how much skill comes from practice and how much from aptitude?
Even though I do not believe there is any catalyst that might elevate a person to genius understanding and consciousness, I believe there is a list of factors that, if overlooked, may lead people to believe in the genius concept. Compare these to the list above:
1. Unmitigated curiosity from an early age.
Everyone is born with curiosity. However, society works hard to kill it, sometimes intentionally, as part of its stabilizing function. Some people are less able or less willing to leave it behind. That's either because they have a natural propensity for curiosity or they found early and consistent rewards for curiosity (See Item 2). Imagine being able to go back in time and credit every hour of watching cartoons with time spent trying to satisfy a desire to know more. I would bet money that your present-day benefits would be staggering!
2. A supportive environment.
The differences between good schools and bad schools are real. The differences between a supportive upbringing and a damaging one are also real. The damage or benefit compounds over time, is lasting, and is difficult to overcome.
Please don't think yourself a genius or hail others as geniuses. It harms us all. We need role models, for sure, but recognize them for their hard work, not their amazing Space Brains. The perpetuation of the genius myth cuts us off from dreams and condemns dreams to forever remain dreams, existing only on a far-off, magical planet.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Direction
I want to develop a system for home-scale lights-out manufacturing. [7] That means the sort of set-up that you leave alone for the night expecting to find a room full of widgets in the morning. This is already available in some forms on an industrial scale. Even if I'm not the first to reach it, I want to be the first to open-source a version of it. Elements of it already freely available: CNC machines, additive and subtractive. The first step is to create a system that can cut the walls of a box out of a board, decide how to arrange them as a box, and glue the box together. [9] Even that will take me years. Everything else is an extension of this. Welding is like gluing, but dangerous. Screws would be a special problem, I would guess.
People could use such a system to build better systems. [1] People (regular folks) could form loose associations, fleeting or rotating collectives, to produce products. Products would not have to be approved and vetted by Underwriter Labs or Consumer Reports, but by reputation and the idea that other people can correct flaws that arise. It would be nice if a people sold only products (the convenience of not having made it yourself) instead of licenses (when you seemingly own a thing but also ex/implicitly promise not to look at it too hard). How does a participatory decentralized culture build a tank for self-defense? Would it even have to?
I was thinking about how if libraries disappear, people who care might set up lending networks for physical books, equipment, and spare time.
I was thinking about how if physical labor disappears, people who care might set up universities based on the hackerspace model. You just start trying things and then stop for a lecture when you need that. People can stop and assemble classes. People can be voted into and out of teaching positions. [2] College should do that and have a pay model that supports earning your way in teaching, researching, and/or inventing in such a way that you can stay as long as you like. Your resume is your portfolio, or a thing that you bring in, and say "I did this, and I probably know enough to do the job". [3] [8]
P.S. The game from the last post is indefinitely suspended until such time my brother starts participating again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[1] I have mixed feelings about Singularitism. [4] Some of the concepts are neat, but many scenarios boil down to how being affluent and tech-savvy becomes heaven [5], and hackers are deified. I just think it would be cool if the current trend of bringing manufacturing to the individual results in increasing gains for the people-side, and brings about loose, fuzzy alliances between groups of tinkerers that complements and undercuts the traditional corporate model.
[2] I mean if you decide you know something and you get voted on as an instructor (not necessarily a professor), then you start earning some fraction of the payroll that the community decides your class is worth. You have a balance sheet with the resources you consume and produce, with the worth of what you produce decided by the community, like the mod system on Stack Overflow. If you only get a few "instructor mod points" you are just a tutor and maybe would not even be earning a teacher's salary. You owe tuition if your account has a negative balance.
[3] They would say "Oh yeah, you built that thing that ate downtown last year". To prove it you bring in a piece of it, which then eats their desk and you get the job. Easy-peasy.
[4] I hate futurists. (I'm looking at you, RK!) Please drop the pretense and write science fiction. [6]
[5] Maybe someone could create a thing and tow it to a developing country where it starts making bricks and sewer pipes, not internets and hive-minds. Some people would just really appreciate a structure a monsoon won't tear down. People would be there, talking to the locals and feeding the machine plans. It would print the most simple amenities possible. The sort of things that spring from simple, repetitive work
[6] No, the irony isn't lost on me. I like to think that pure speculations and empty hopes aren't scams if you don't make money from them.
[7] I wish I had a dream when I was younger. I always wanted to "do cool things" while only sporadically finding a "thing". At least I don't ascribe to the belief that technical/mental achievements are only reached during one's 20's.
[8] I guess we do not necessarily have to wait for labor to disappear, it would be cool at any time. The thought followed my thoughts about democratized manufacturing and the eventual end of factory and sweat-shop jobs, democratization or none.
[9] Step zero is learning Common Lisp, which I have convinced myself will help with the project.
People could use such a system to build better systems. [1] People (regular folks) could form loose associations, fleeting or rotating collectives, to produce products. Products would not have to be approved and vetted by Underwriter Labs or Consumer Reports, but by reputation and the idea that other people can correct flaws that arise. It would be nice if a people sold only products (the convenience of not having made it yourself) instead of licenses (when you seemingly own a thing but also ex/implicitly promise not to look at it too hard). How does a participatory decentralized culture build a tank for self-defense? Would it even have to?
I was thinking about how if libraries disappear, people who care might set up lending networks for physical books, equipment, and spare time.
I was thinking about how if physical labor disappears, people who care might set up universities based on the hackerspace model. You just start trying things and then stop for a lecture when you need that. People can stop and assemble classes. People can be voted into and out of teaching positions. [2] College should do that and have a pay model that supports earning your way in teaching, researching, and/or inventing in such a way that you can stay as long as you like. Your resume is your portfolio, or a thing that you bring in, and say "I did this, and I probably know enough to do the job". [3] [8]
P.S. The game from the last post is indefinitely suspended until such time my brother starts participating again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[1] I have mixed feelings about Singularitism. [4] Some of the concepts are neat, but many scenarios boil down to how being affluent and tech-savvy becomes heaven [5], and hackers are deified. I just think it would be cool if the current trend of bringing manufacturing to the individual results in increasing gains for the people-side, and brings about loose, fuzzy alliances between groups of tinkerers that complements and undercuts the traditional corporate model.
[2] I mean if you decide you know something and you get voted on as an instructor (not necessarily a professor), then you start earning some fraction of the payroll that the community decides your class is worth. You have a balance sheet with the resources you consume and produce, with the worth of what you produce decided by the community, like the mod system on Stack Overflow. If you only get a few "instructor mod points" you are just a tutor and maybe would not even be earning a teacher's salary. You owe tuition if your account has a negative balance.
[3] They would say "Oh yeah, you built that thing that ate downtown last year". To prove it you bring in a piece of it, which then eats their desk and you get the job. Easy-peasy.
[4] I hate futurists. (I'm looking at you, RK!) Please drop the pretense and write science fiction. [6]
[5] Maybe someone could create a thing and tow it to a developing country where it starts making bricks and sewer pipes, not internets and hive-minds. Some people would just really appreciate a structure a monsoon won't tear down. People would be there, talking to the locals and feeding the machine plans. It would print the most simple amenities possible. The sort of things that spring from simple, repetitive work
[6] No, the irony isn't lost on me. I like to think that pure speculations and empty hopes aren't scams if you don't make money from them.
[7] I wish I had a dream when I was younger. I always wanted to "do cool things" while only sporadically finding a "thing". At least I don't ascribe to the belief that technical/mental achievements are only reached during one's 20's.
[8] I guess we do not necessarily have to wait for labor to disappear, it would be cool at any time. The thought followed my thoughts about democratized manufacturing and the eventual end of factory and sweat-shop jobs, democratization or none.
[9] Step zero is learning Common Lisp, which I have convinced myself will help with the project.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Games
Monday, July 4, 2011
Bootstrapping
Here is LEGOCNC nearly ready for motor install. I can begin begin testing hardware/software controls soon. (You remember LEGOCNC don't you?)
Intensity Report: Medium
Slowly replacing bad habits with good ones. Over the years I have spent a lot of time writing and thinking about what happens to me, what I do, and what I think. It's a tendency that points to another trend: being caught up in a complex of procrastination and distraction that results in me never getting started and/or never finishing. The one piece of advice I need(ed), above all other schemes and lofty thoughts, is to begin immediately. That means to start with the thing that looks most like the thing I want, and if that doesn't work, change something and try again. That's the message I would send to a former self: Try Something. You don't even need confidence to start with, just try anything and see what happens. Before you write about it, read about it, or start thinking you don't have what you need, just try it.
I'm in the middle of my second night course in Mandarin Chinese. The first class was taught out of children's book. This next one is drastic step change from the last. Most of my class has lived in China for at least a year and they are there to "brush up on their skills". So being at the bottom of the class is something that bothers me a little, but even if I have trouble keeping up, I am learning things.
My brother wants me to help him make a video game because I am one of those people that "knows programming". I'm apt to help, just because I can see that he has similar issues with starting and completing projects. (It's a problem that's been passed down through generations. My father is a model airplane enthusiast in the strictest sense, but he has about 8 unbuilt airplanes in his garage and none that are fully operational as of this writing.)
Just another reason to make good use of my time.
Slowly replacing bad habits with good ones. Over the years I have spent a lot of time writing and thinking about what happens to me, what I do, and what I think. It's a tendency that points to another trend: being caught up in a complex of procrastination and distraction that results in me never getting started and/or never finishing. The one piece of advice I need(ed), above all other schemes and lofty thoughts, is to begin immediately. That means to start with the thing that looks most like the thing I want, and if that doesn't work, change something and try again. That's the message I would send to a former self: Try Something. You don't even need confidence to start with, just try anything and see what happens. Before you write about it, read about it, or start thinking you don't have what you need, just try it.
I'm in the middle of my second night course in Mandarin Chinese. The first class was taught out of children's book. This next one is drastic step change from the last. Most of my class has lived in China for at least a year and they are there to "brush up on their skills". So being at the bottom of the class is something that bothers me a little, but even if I have trouble keeping up, I am learning things.
My brother wants me to help him make a video game because I am one of those people that "knows programming". I'm apt to help, just because I can see that he has similar issues with starting and completing projects. (It's a problem that's been passed down through generations. My father is a model airplane enthusiast in the strictest sense, but he has about 8 unbuilt airplanes in his garage and none that are fully operational as of this writing.)
Just another reason to make good use of my time.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Low Intensity
It came to me clearly last Thursday that I have been suffering from Low Intensity for a long, long time. I tend to be scatterbrained, but that is less than half of the problem. Having many irons in the fire would be just fine, lots of people operate that way, if only I ever managed to hammer one into something finished. [1] The problem is I lose interest in irons even before they get very hot. I don't see myself as incapable, but I do have a great deal of trouble approving of my own ideas. The histories of inventive/creative people collectively teach us that mistakes and effort mesh to form the central mechanism of learning and creation. I ignore this fact so much. Whenever I first think of something, the second thought is almost always disapproval. [2] Maybe I can't change that, and it is something that is dictated by my upbringing or genetics. Maybe also I can leverage it. I can take the inward discord as a sign that further upsetting the internal state of things will lead to something new and original.
People I knew in High School told me that I was going to do something unique and significant some day. That sentiment always made me feel weird and embarrassed. I hoped that I would work out a way to sustain those brief flashes of intensity before anyone noticed how rare they actually were. The truth is that I haven't lived up to my potential in ages. I still believe that I can reverse the situation through constant, gradual change in habits and outlook. I have tried the fatalistic all-or-nothing attachment of my self (esteem) to A Particular Way and it doesn't work. I just have to do, and work, and fail, and succeed all the time. All the while I will be greedily soaking up the knowledge and wisdom from the increasing pile of wreckage. After all, more mistakes mean more spare parts. [3]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In related news, I started two new projects this (holiday) weekend. (They are really only new in the sense that I actually started work on them rather than just talking about them for over a year.)
The first is a Photobioreactor. Ever since I heard about the abandoned Aquatic Species Program I have been curious about aquaculture as it pertains to algae and photosynthetic bacteria in the production of bio-diesel. It may not be possible to produce enough to fuel my car using the space that my apartment provides, but learning more about, and automating, the process now may benefit me in the future.
The second is a CNC (Computer Numerical Control) Mill/Router, made of LEGO and driven by printer stepper motors. Now, what the wiki article does not fully convey is that CNC machines and their cousins, Rapid Prototyping machines, are the fastest means to turn an idea into a real thing. With it, the thing that was in your mind can be in your hand in hours. I won't be able to cut sturdy materials with this first iteration. What I will be able to do is work out all the software and control issues before moving on to larger, more powerful machines. A home-built CNC machine is fairly common project. All the same, it opens all kinds of doors in what I will be able to manufacture. This will most definitely benefit me in the future.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[1] I am assuming that "irons in the fire" is a blacksmith metaphor. The phrase may refer to something else entirely.
[2] This happens when I deal with people too, especially people I don't know well. Whenever I think about talking to someone, I also think that I am an unwelcome disruption to the flow of their day. Furthermore, I wasn't invited, so how can the person possibly appreciate an irritating collection of bones and grease broadcasting noise at them? That's a really unhealthy way to view the way people see me.
[3] Look at me with my precious collection of mission statements and proclamations. I should get my M.B.A. and travel the country giving talks on Productivity and Cross Functional Synergy Effectiveness Return Management. I could make millions selling books full of empty Business Advice.
People I knew in High School told me that I was going to do something unique and significant some day. That sentiment always made me feel weird and embarrassed. I hoped that I would work out a way to sustain those brief flashes of intensity before anyone noticed how rare they actually were. The truth is that I haven't lived up to my potential in ages. I still believe that I can reverse the situation through constant, gradual change in habits and outlook. I have tried the fatalistic all-or-nothing attachment of my self (esteem) to A Particular Way and it doesn't work. I just have to do, and work, and fail, and succeed all the time. All the while I will be greedily soaking up the knowledge and wisdom from the increasing pile of wreckage. After all, more mistakes mean more spare parts. [3]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In related news, I started two new projects this (holiday) weekend. (They are really only new in the sense that I actually started work on them rather than just talking about them for over a year.)
The first is a Photobioreactor. Ever since I heard about the abandoned Aquatic Species Program I have been curious about aquaculture as it pertains to algae and photosynthetic bacteria in the production of bio-diesel. It may not be possible to produce enough to fuel my car using the space that my apartment provides, but learning more about, and automating, the process now may benefit me in the future.
The second is a CNC (Computer Numerical Control) Mill/Router, made of LEGO and driven by printer stepper motors. Now, what the wiki article does not fully convey is that CNC machines and their cousins, Rapid Prototyping machines, are the fastest means to turn an idea into a real thing. With it, the thing that was in your mind can be in your hand in hours. I won't be able to cut sturdy materials with this first iteration. What I will be able to do is work out all the software and control issues before moving on to larger, more powerful machines. A home-built CNC machine is fairly common project. All the same, it opens all kinds of doors in what I will be able to manufacture. This will most definitely benefit me in the future.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[1] I am assuming that "irons in the fire" is a blacksmith metaphor. The phrase may refer to something else entirely.
[2] This happens when I deal with people too, especially people I don't know well. Whenever I think about talking to someone, I also think that I am an unwelcome disruption to the flow of their day. Furthermore, I wasn't invited, so how can the person possibly appreciate an irritating collection of bones and grease broadcasting noise at them? That's a really unhealthy way to view the way people see me.
[3] Look at me with my precious collection of mission statements and proclamations. I should get my M.B.A. and travel the country giving talks on Productivity and Cross Functional Synergy Effectiveness Return Management. I could make millions selling books full of empty Business Advice.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Mr. Kettersby, an urgent directaphone text was posted to your inbox, shall I patch it through?
[-- SEND: ADDR#479302.t.008 RECEIVE:ADDR#479845.w.009 DATETIME: 1924-10-16,14:56 DIRECTAPHONE TEXT BEGIN--]
FROM: Dr. Harold F. Stonefield III, Lead Archivist
State Information Directorate - Financial Division
#479302.t.008
TO: Mr. Daniel Kettersby, Contracts and Billing Advisor
Ticks, Tocks, and Locks: Information Transcription and Security Company
#479845.w.009
SUBJECT: THE BURNING ANGER THAT RIOTS IN MY HEART AGAINST YOU
Mr. Kettersby,
I have contacted you regarding an apparent discrepancy between our respective views of what constitutes professional behavior.
This morning I was informed that a satchel of voxagraph recordings was delivered to your employees on-site at the Directorate by mistake. These came from a platoon of our nation's own Advance Guard, who may still be on a peacekeeping mission in the Upper Foglands. As you may well know, the government has severed all directaphone communications with the Foglanders pending resolution of certain diplomatic concerns. Therefore, it should be obvious that any word from our greencoats should be routed immediately to the Military Directorate. This, apparently, did not occur.
I have a friend in the MD who is overwrought with anxiety over a missing voxagraph communique from the aforementioned Advance Guard platoon, which should have been delivered to his office some weeks ago. Buffoons under your employ, contracted by the Military Directorate, instead routed those spindles to the State Information Directorate. This action is against state policy and bafflingly contrary to your stated expertise in "Information Security". Miraculously, the whereabouts of those voxagraph spindles have been discovered, thanks in no part to your shoddy record-keeping.
Once located, I was saddened to learn that not only are our greencoats wandering the Foglandish heath with dwindling supplies, but they are engaged in a desperate search for a stranded patriot. The only clues to his location are a collection of frantic voxagraph recordings that were also temporarily lost to your administrative ineptitude. My sense of tragedy, and my shame in hiring you, are deepened by the fact that your company saw it fit to classify this woeful narrative as a personal ad. The poor chap's laments were framed as answers to jaunty essay questions, then posted to "net.cupid_bow". I hope for your sake that the courts find you to be monumentally stupid, because the alternative is that your sense of humor is criminally morbid. In case you missed it (and I am certain you did) I have attached the text ad in full.
To be perfectly clear, your contracts with the State Information Directorate, and all government offices, are terminated, effective immediately. Your office has been billed for the overtime wages necessary to sort out this matter.
Sincerely,
Dr. H. F. Stonefield
[-- DEVICE CHECK FAILED: 257k ticks of data UNSENT for DEVICETYPE **BLUHRN_Remote_Operated_Industrial_Arm**. /////// Server attempting re-route, press the BLOCK key to cancel. --]
P.S. If your office had been properly equipped, I would have torn you to ribbons over the directa'.
[--ATCH 0001 TEXTFILE BEGIN --]
FROM: Dr. Harold F. Stonefield III, Lead Archivist
State Information Directorate - Financial Division
#479302.t.008
TO: Mr. Daniel Kettersby, Contracts and Billing Advisor
Ticks, Tocks, and Locks: Information Transcription and Security Company
#479845.w.009
SUBJECT: THE BURNING ANGER THAT RIOTS IN MY HEART AGAINST YOU
Mr. Kettersby,
I have contacted you regarding an apparent discrepancy between our respective views of what constitutes professional behavior.
This morning I was informed that a satchel of voxagraph recordings was delivered to your employees on-site at the Directorate by mistake. These came from a platoon of our nation's own Advance Guard, who may still be on a peacekeeping mission in the Upper Foglands. As you may well know, the government has severed all directaphone communications with the Foglanders pending resolution of certain diplomatic concerns. Therefore, it should be obvious that any word from our greencoats should be routed immediately to the Military Directorate. This, apparently, did not occur.
I have a friend in the MD who is overwrought with anxiety over a missing voxagraph communique from the aforementioned Advance Guard platoon, which should have been delivered to his office some weeks ago. Buffoons under your employ, contracted by the Military Directorate, instead routed those spindles to the State Information Directorate. This action is against state policy and bafflingly contrary to your stated expertise in "Information Security". Miraculously, the whereabouts of those voxagraph spindles have been discovered, thanks in no part to your shoddy record-keeping.
Once located, I was saddened to learn that not only are our greencoats wandering the Foglandish heath with dwindling supplies, but they are engaged in a desperate search for a stranded patriot. The only clues to his location are a collection of frantic voxagraph recordings that were also temporarily lost to your administrative ineptitude. My sense of tragedy, and my shame in hiring you, are deepened by the fact that your company saw it fit to classify this woeful narrative as a personal ad. The poor chap's laments were framed as answers to jaunty essay questions, then posted to "net.cupid_bow". I hope for your sake that the courts find you to be monumentally stupid, because the alternative is that your sense of humor is criminally morbid. In case you missed it (and I am certain you did) I have attached the text ad in full.
To be perfectly clear, your contracts with the State Information Directorate, and all government offices, are terminated, effective immediately. Your office has been billed for the overtime wages necessary to sort out this matter.
Sincerely,
Dr. H. F. Stonefield
[-- DEVICE CHECK FAILED: 257k ticks of data UNSENT for DEVICETYPE **BLUHRN_Remote_Operated_Industrial_Arm**. /////// Server attempting re-route, press the BLOCK key to cancel. --]
P.S. If your office had been properly equipped, I would have torn you to ribbons over the directa'.
[--ATCH 0001 TEXTFILE BEGIN --]
My Self-Summary
All directaphone lines are down, so I am dictating this message by voxagraph in hopes that someone may find it. My airmotor has crashed and I was forced to leave it in a particularly un-airworthy condition. I was able to salvage the power plant and most of the drive train to fashion myself a crude overland conveyance. My estimated position is somewhere in the Upper Foglands, but without a clear view of the stars I am not at all certain. Less certain still is what will happen to me in coming hours and days.
My curiosity has gotten the best of me once again. I had lowered my altitude to get better readings on a patch of phosphorescent ores, and in a moment of inattentiveness, my craft was struck by a sudden downdraft. It was then that I became immediately and violently acquainted with the ore deposit.
The phlogiston compressors are spinning up to speed, so I must end this recording. I can only hope that my creativity and mettle can see me out of this cheerless heath.
My curiosity has gotten the best of me once again. I had lowered my altitude to get better readings on a patch of phosphorescent ores, and in a moment of inattentiveness, my craft was struck by a sudden downdraft. It was then that I became immediately and violently acquainted with the ore deposit.
The phlogiston compressors are spinning up to speed, so I must end this recording. I can only hope that my creativity and mettle can see me out of this cheerless heath.
What I’m doing with my life
I have been trying to distill a fuel with workable combustive properties from rotting vegetation I find in the swamps that pervade this region. The rest of my time is occupied with scraping aether bats out of my vehicle's air intake and keeping the snakes at bay.
As an aside, I have developed a strong aversion to swamps.
As an aside, I have developed a strong aversion to swamps.
I’m really good at
Re-purposing found objects as a fuel pump.
I am fully conversant with the terrible howls of the creatures that stalk the heath, how far away they are, and how long it will take them to bring their slavering jaws to bear on me.
I am fully conversant with the terrible howls of the creatures that stalk the heath, how far away they are, and how long it will take them to bring their slavering jaws to bear on me.
The first things people usually notice about me
> The lesions that testify to my numerous and unfortunate encounters with the dreadful local fauna
> The long and convoluted discourse that I carry on with myself on a worryingly frequent basis
> The long and convoluted discourse that I carry on with myself on a worryingly frequent basis
My favorite books, movies, music, and food
Books - Anything Ada Hargrave is tops, naturally.
Movies - Though I hate to mar it, I made a handy flipbook in the margins of my copy of "Useful Machine Movements". It's about a man that finds a pair of lift planes for his airmotor and lofts himself safely into the heavens. I could watch it every day.
Music - The gentle breeze blowing across an open plain in the early morning, before the larger predators are active.
Food - Whatever I can find.
Movies - Though I hate to mar it, I made a handy flipbook in the margins of my copy of "Useful Machine Movements". It's about a man that finds a pair of lift planes for his airmotor and lofts himself safely into the heavens. I could watch it every day.
Music - The gentle breeze blowing across an open plain in the early morning, before the larger predators are active.
Food - Whatever I can find.
The six things I could never do without
> A standard-issue Mechanologist's Guild Toolkit - valuable beyond words
> 100 meters of natural-fibre rope - a little mold-eaten at this point, sadly
> Ada Hargrave's Book of Useful Machine Movements (3rd Edition) - I have kept this with me since my school days.
> Ruger-Bellwether "Ifrit" Repeater Pistol - There are only three psychokinetic rounds left in the magazine.
> Canvas tarp - My new, hopefully temporary, living quarters
> A worn journal - Even if I don't make it, maybe someone out there can learn from my mistakes.
> 100 meters of natural-fibre rope - a little mold-eaten at this point, sadly
> Ada Hargrave's Book of Useful Machine Movements (3rd Edition) - I have kept this with me since my school days.
> Ruger-Bellwether "Ifrit" Repeater Pistol - There are only three psychokinetic rounds left in the magazine.
> Canvas tarp - My new, hopefully temporary, living quarters
> A worn journal - Even if I don't make it, maybe someone out there can learn from my mistakes.
I spend a lot of time thinking about
Every few days I cross a stretch of ground that has been cut, ravaged by Flynn-knows-what. Something has left a swath of desolation approximately 12 metres wide, where tree branches are snapped and the earth has been scorched by extreme heat. It leaves a track pattern unlike any sort of machine I have ever seen, and it makes impossibly sharp turns. Sometimes the tracks inexplicably end with no evidence left as to where the blasted thing departed.
This morning I found a set of such tracks not a dozen paces from my camp. I did not hear a thing all last night. I freely admit to you here that this frightens me to the very core.
This morning I found a set of such tracks not a dozen paces from my camp. I did not hear a thing all last night. I freely admit to you here that this frightens me to the very core.
On a typical Friday night I am
-leaving more voxagraph spindles for someone to find. I hope this message finds you in a better state of affairs than myself. Please exk\/5e the po0r out//////put quality, I think the r3cording he4d is 4bout to g1ve o
[-- Unknown DATATYPE was received. Please contact an authorized Blue Heron Voxagraph service centre. --]
[-- Unknown DATATYPE was received. Please contact an authorized Blue Heron Voxagraph service centre. --]
The most private thing I’m willing to admit here
It fills me with profound joy to have found another voxagraph recording head. What excellent luck! I pried it from the death-grip of some chap not so lucky as I. May his soul find peace.
It is my private shame that I never learned to properly calibrate a magnetocollider. I always asked Mr. Druthers to do that for me, and he always graciously agreed. He was my dearest friend amongst all the Guild members.
It is my private shame that I never learned to properly calibrate a magnetocollider. I always asked Mr. Druthers to do that for me, and he always graciously agreed. He was my dearest friend amongst all the Guild members.
You should message me if
You found my recording. I can scarcely believe it! Now, you should see a set of narrow wheel tracks leading into a copse of haberdasher trees. Follow that, and keep to the southern shore of the lake, then continue across the field toward the hills. I'm going to try to leave trail markers as long as I have energy to spare.
For the love of all that is good, do not attempt to cross the plains at night! This cannot be stressed enough.
For the love of all that is good, do not attempt to cross the plains at night! This cannot be stressed enough.
[--ATCH TEXTFILE STOP --]
[-- DIRECTAPHONE TEXT FULLSTOP--]
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[-- SEND: ADDR#479302.t.925 RECEIVE:ADDR#479302.t.ALL DATETIME: 1924-10-16,16:12 DIRECTAPHONE TEXT BEGIN--]
FROM: Ms. Francine Grendel, Archivist
State Information Directorate - Mail Department
#479302.t.925
TO: &AllStaff_SID
State Information Directorate
#479302.t.ALL
SUBJECT: Preventable Fatalities in the Shipping Department
Dear Fellow Staff,
I am writing to inform you of an unfortunate incident that needlessly claimed the lives of 7 employees in the 4th sub-basement of the SID this afternoon. It appears that some stray ticks of data from upstairs were received by the Industrial Manipulator Arm (known to the mail staff as "Lanky Linda") in the Oversize Parcel Sorting Room. This caused her to go on something of a rampage, rending 6 employees to bits before an intern selflessly threw himself into the works to stop her. Even though the stray data had every appearance of a valid manipulator program, it proved to be poorly written and also more fatal than was perhaps necessary.
In the future, please do take care that such data is correctly routed and meets proper safety standards.
The families of the departed will each be sent a Condolence Assortment of Fruit Jams in memory of service given to the SID.
Respectfully,
F. Grendel
P.S. Linda was returned to service after minor repairs and a good wash.
State Information Directorate - Mail Department
#479302.t.925
TO: &AllStaff_SID
State Information Directorate
#479302.t.ALL
SUBJECT: Preventable Fatalities in the Shipping Department
Dear Fellow Staff,
I am writing to inform you of an unfortunate incident that needlessly claimed the lives of 7 employees in the 4th sub-basement of the SID this afternoon. It appears that some stray ticks of data from upstairs were received by the Industrial Manipulator Arm (known to the mail staff as "Lanky Linda") in the Oversize Parcel Sorting Room. This caused her to go on something of a rampage, rending 6 employees to bits before an intern selflessly threw himself into the works to stop her. Even though the stray data had every appearance of a valid manipulator program, it proved to be poorly written and also more fatal than was perhaps necessary.
In the future, please do take care that such data is correctly routed and meets proper safety standards.
The families of the departed will each be sent a Condolence Assortment of Fruit Jams in memory of service given to the SID.
Respectfully,
F. Grendel
P.S. Linda was returned to service after minor repairs and a good wash.
[-- DIRECTAPHONE TEXT FULLSTOP--]
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
You are not supposed to do that.
You are not supposed to get less than 6 hours of sleep for some days.
James, your head is full of crap and I do not know what you want.
James, your head is full of crap and I do not know what you want.
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