Random Thursday: Random Squeefuls

Random Thursday (ˈrandəm ˈTHərzdā): the day on which Sarah plunks down all the odd bits and pieces she’s been sent by friends or has otherwise stumbled upon this week in an effort to avoid writing a real post, the assembly of which usually ends up taking twice as much time as sitting down and creating actual content.

Once again, we were reminded that the Calendar Spring is not Weather Spring, as the first robin was encased in ice during Monday’s snow infestation.

But there is still squee to be found, if you look.  Or your friends do and send it to you.

Thanks, guys.

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Introducing:  My Spirit Animal

Manatee Hug

Now giving free hugs!

(Thanks, liligriff!)

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SQUEE.

That is all.

Baby Hedgies

My husband sent me this, presumably because he thought the high pitch of my reaction would knock something loose in my sinuses.

Thanks, honey.

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Watch This

And then watch it again and mark the time
when you said, “Wait. Whoa.”
and report it in the comments, please.

Mine was about 18 seconds in.

And then 46.

And at 1:03.

And 1:56.

I love this so, so much.

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Octovengers

Sunny called them Squidvengers, which is even better.

Octovengers

Me: I wonder how easy these are to assemble?

Kev:  Well, they are filled with glorious polyfiber.

(Thanks, Watson!  You’re right, these are two of my favorite thiiiiiings!)

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“There’s No Way to Outsquee Baby Hedgies.”

Cumberbatch Tiggie

Your argument is invalid.

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Literal Time Suck

Jane introduced me to a series of trailers on YouTube which hilariously describe every single thing that’s going on in them–including the production symbols—not only with subtitles, but a sort of Gregorian Chant that isn’t half bad.

She started me on one for Assassin’s Creed IV: Black Flag, which I loved
(“Colonial Running Shoe Commercial . . . “),
even though I had no prior knowledge of the game, but I decided to show one for a movie that I’ve actually seen.  Twice.

Trust me and stop at 1:50—the video are good, but the junk at the end is annoying for anyone not of a certain demographic.

 The Hobbit is good, too.  Or Harry Potter.

Or, you know, all of them . . .

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Random Thursday: Faulty Memories, Weird Truths, and Good GNUs

Random Thursday (ˈrandəm ˈTHərzdā): the day on which Sarah plunks down all the odd bits and pieces she’s been sent by friends or has otherwise stumbled upon this week in an effort to avoid writing a real post, the assembly of which usually ends up taking twice as much time as sitting down and creating actual content.

Hey, you writer people out there—check out last Tuesday’s post!

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When my BP drops, I have a latte.

Coffee Type

Actually, mine is Coffee Positive.

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I Hope So . . .

Mediation Remediation

I’d suggest adding a little blood to our caffeine streams,
but that’s just crazy talk.

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Let’s Take a Vote!

At first, this seems like an awesome live-action  memory game . . . but it isn’t.

It’s better.

Don’t bother clicking—I’ve posted the solution at the end.

No peeking!

ooooooooooooooOOOOOoooooooooooooo
GNUs for Terry Pratchett

Terry Pratchett

“You know they’ll never really die while the Trunk is alive[…] It lives while the code is shifted, and they live with it, always Going Home.”

— Lipwig von Moist, Going Postal, Chapter 13

I was first introduced to Terry Pratchett’s imagination when I chose The Colour of Magic as one of the twelve books I bought for a penny way back when Book of the Month Clubs were a Big Thing and my mother wasn’t watching.

For that story alone it was the best scam I ever fell for—I read everything Terry Pratchett ever wrote and have been a devotee of the magical Discworld and its different sort of sanity ever since.

So when I learned last week that he had passed away, I told myself that his characters and worlds and sharp wit were so loved that somewhere, it has all become real.

This didn’t help as much as I’d hoped.

But then my husband, who is as big a fan as I, showed me an article that did.

In Going Postal, readers are introduced to “the clacks”, a series of semaphore towers that stand in for the telegraph for the Discworld, which has no electricity. The towers that make up “the Trunk”, can send messages “at the speed of light” using standardized codes.

In the book, three of these codes are central to the plot:

G: send the message on
N: do not log the message
U: turn the message around at the end of the line and send it back again

The people who operate the Towers—half coders, half mechanics, half crazy—have a special way of honoring those who died in service:  The names of the dead are sent in code from Tower to Tower, never logged and never ending, always remembered while the towers still stand.

And now, some Reddit fans of Sir Terry have created a way to send him name through our world’s version of the clacks—the Internet—in the form of a code called the XClacksOverhead, which sets a header reading “GNU Terry Pratchett” in the coding of one’s website or blog.

If you’re interested in honoring Terry Pratchett in this way, or are interested in passing this idea on to fans who are technologically savvy enough to do this, the various codes and instructions are here.

No one will be able to see his name unless they look for it in the coding, but it will be there, sent on and ever circling, and always Going Home.

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The Battle-Cry of my Demographic

Memory Stump

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The Verdict?

It’s totally doable, as long as you can get 100 people to follow the same, simple process.

So, no.  Never take this bet.

Instead, we should run the bet, and make a boatload of cash of those 100 people.

Who’s with me?

Random Thursday: Eternal Random of a Spotty Mind

Random Thursday (ˈrandəm ˈTHərzdā): the day on which Sarah plunks down all the odd bits and pieces she’s been sent by friends or has otherwise stumbled upon this week in an effort to avoid writing a real post, the assembly of which usually ends up taking twice as much time as sitting down and creating actual content.

If you want coherent awesomeness, back up to yesterday’s post and read what people who are capable of coherent awesomeness have to say.

You want a look at the bits and pieces that shuffled themselves to the surface of my aching brain in time to be tossed into a post while I squinted balefully at the screen through one of my ever-delightful sinus headaches, read on.

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She Trifectaed that Verbiage

Word(s).

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For the Knitters who Cook

Or vice versa.

Please note that this doesn’t work quite so well
if your household includes a gerbil,
as the gerbil will hold prior claim to every, single cardboard tube
in the house during the course of its lifetime.

Just ask my kid.

(My husband sent me this—I think he may be warming up to my stash, if you know what I mean.)

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It’s a Con!  It’s  Trap!  It’s a Time Suck!

Physicsgames.net is a great place to
lose a few hours
learn about the valuable, practical applications of physics in a fun way,
like popping little gluey guys  as they slide into a series of distillation beakers
(Yeah, I don’t know either—must be a physicist thing).

Or building Fantastic Contraptions.

In this game, you take wheels, rods, magnets, and other objects from the top of the screen . . .

Fantastic Contraption

to build a contraption in the blue workspace that will deliver the pink ball to the goal space . . .

Fantastic Contraption1

Like so:

Fantastic Contraption2

Sometimes you can even keep your contraption from falling over.

And I do mean you—I never managed it.
But it was a lot of fun trying!
Let me know which level has you cursing my name.
That’s how I like to keep score.
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But then again . . .
At first, I was bouncing in my seat saying,
“YES!!! Tolkien, Prachett, Lewis, Doyle!”
 Infinite nonfiction
But then I thought, “Stephen King. Clive Barker . . .  Anne Coulter.”
And then I had to go lie down with the covers over my head,
clutching a copy of Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle’s Magic.
Any thoughts?
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Similar Enough
A few people I know (Hi, John!  Hi, Katya!  Hi, liligriff!)
are currently tackling the Silmarillion,
which may be a book I’d want to live in
(see above)
but not necessarily read again
(unless insomnia becomes a problem).
But my friends are made of sterner stuff,
and to help them along their epic . . . Epic . . .
I’m offering them someone else’s cheat sheet.
You’re welcome!

Random Thursday: Random Relaxations

Random Thursday (ˈrandəm ˈTHərzdā): the day on which Sarah plunks down all the odd bits and pieces she’s been sent by friends or has otherwise stumbled upon this week in an effort to avoid writing a real post, the assembly of which usually ends up taking twice as much time as sitting down and creating actual content.

 I’m thinking that the Universe wants me to take more naps—and far be it from me to argue with the Universe.

Okay, yeah, but this time, I agree with it, so . . .

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 I’m Dreeeeaaamiiing . . .

  . . . of mooooooore bookshelves.

photo

Then again,
just think of the opportunities for osmosis learning!

(From Watson , who sent this to me just hours after I donated half my writing space bookhoard to the library.
Guess I’d better start accumulating again.
Like I needed the excuse.)

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Revolutionary

I dare you to watch this only once.

Told you.

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Fully Stuffed and Operational

As if millions of people suddenly yawned in exhaustion . . .

Operational PIllow

  . . . and were suddenly silent.

Because in space . . . no one can hear you snore.

(From my husband, who is either finally getting into the spirit of Random Thursdays, or needs to lay off YouTube)

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Committing Sudoku

Tetris became just a tad too nerve-wracking for me,
so I succumbed to the lure of a free Sudoku app,
hoping for a little relaxing brain exercise.

Turns out, the games on this thing are timed.
And shockingly addictive.

Naturally, I can quit any time I want.

I’m just gonna get my top time under four minutes, first . . .

(Mom, this is all your fault—nature and nurture)

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Perfect is Not Approximate

It is this.

Told you.

Random Thursday: Dubious Accomplishments, Librarianisms, and Fuzzy Eyeballs

Random Thursday (ˈrandəm ˈTHərzdā): the day on which Sarah plunks down all the odd bits and pieces she’s been sent by friends or has otherwise stumbled upon this week in an effort to avoid writing a real post, the assembly of which usually ends up taking twice as much time as sitting down and creating actual content.

I had Labor Day off Monday, so Tuesday was Monday with a T, and then I was home sick yesterday (and probably should be today, guh) so today is sort of the new Wednesday, except isn’t raining cats and dogs and salamanders and lungfish out there and I have back-to-back meeting all day, so it’s actually Monday with a W.

Or a Th?

I’ve lost track . . .

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Oh, $#!%—Someone Noticed

Library Gangs

I don’t know whether to laugh at the grammar
or be annoyed that the sign maker wasn’t severely hushed
before s/he let the cat out of the bag.

(Thanks to Watson, for bringing this to our attention . . . )

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 Inspiration Is Where You Find it

I was going to share a fantastic video my husband found,
featuring a 74-year old woman playing blues guitar
in a way that would make Albert “Ice Man” Collins sit up and notice.

But in the end, I had to go with my artistic integrity
and personal knowledge
about what kinds of accomplishments
truly inspire me:

 

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Prehistoric Googling

Tuesday, I was covering the Reference desk
when our system software went down
and we lost the online catalog for a hectic forty minutes.

I would now like to officially apologize to Dr. Linh
on behalf of my cataloging class
for all the nasty things we called him
when he forced us to memorize the general classification schedules
for both the Dewey and LC systems.

But I think we all stand by what we called him after the final.

Jerk.

(I can’t remember who sent me this—Watson? Caitlin?—but thanks!)

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Tetrismare

Did you know that the 30th Anniversary edition of  Tetris®
(remember Tetris®?)
is currently being offered as a free Android app
at the Google Play store?

It’s true!

All it’ll cost you is most of your time
and a significant chunk of your sanity.

Trust me on this.

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Fuzzy Logic

Those little silver squiggles have been circling my vision again, so I’ve decided to lighten up on caffeine, find some work to do at the library that doesn’t require me to stare at pixels for hours at a time, and also give myself two days without contacts to give the ol’ eyeballs some fresh air.

Since my unenhanced vision is perfectly adequate at distances of up to five inches, I’ll naturally be wearing my glasses, the lenses of which are exactly as thick and heavy as you might imagine they would be for anyone with five inches worth of distance vision.

This means that once or twice during my work day, I’m going to have to remove my black plastic nerd glasses—if they’re good enough for Clark Kent and Adam Savage, they’re good enough for me—for a while to rub some feeling back into my nose.

The problem, of course, is that when I take off my glasses, I’ll either have to stop reading, or bring the pages within five inches of my eyes, which will interfere with effective nose rubbing.

Luckily, MinutePhysics is here to save the day!

With SCIENCE!
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