Nuptials of Catan

requiem333: I'm surprised he got married before you. I always thought you'd be the first.
jerm9x: He got a lot of things before me.



oh just like that, mr. jenkins

the last few days have given me greater appreciation for my rusty armada laptop, thanks in no small part to the nightmare of recovering from emerge -auk world gone awry [on two machines]. i have a proven track record of summoning obscure hardware/kernel failures whenever i reboot my gentoo desktops. things started with a harmless nvidia driver upgrade on saturday night, which escalated into a borked xorg-x11-6.8.0 installation, and climaxed in a frightening bios post screen listing my ide primary master as "wdc wd600bb-00bsa0!!! !!" (take note of the ambiguous exclamation points). this most recent experience was but another motivating factor suggesting i run out and buy a mac. i actually had the pleasure of playing with lynn's spiffy, new powerbook last friday while i was over configuring her sister's 802.11g router. on the surface, the entire machine looks like a novelty item (and it may very well be), but i've never been able to shake the longing desire to test-drive osx as my primary operating system, if only to determine its functional viability in fulfilling that role.

an all too common confession of many linux converts is: "linux is my main os, but i still keep a machine with windows for {games | photoshop | office | misc-application}." i suppose the argument of emulation versus native support could debated for an endless eternity in hell, but i've never accepted wine (or cedega, for that matter) as an be-all, end-all solution. granted, i'm also unwilling to endure the lengthy configuration process that might yield a be-all, end-all solution through emulation. i'm sensing two independent topics fighting for focus in this entry: laptops appeal to me; macs appeal to me. and i don't want, by any stretch of the imagination, to suggest that i'd consider a windows desktop to be a solution to my 'problem' of recurring, poor experiences in computing. what do laptops and macs have in common?

  1. you can only futz with their insides so much
  2. they're intricately designed and clean (see: 1)
  3. they generally just work (also see: 1)
  4. they're overpriced for what they do (a postive from a bling-bling standpoint)
  5. they look nice

in general, the more i'm allowed to dig into an atx case, pull cables, and route live electricity through expensive hardware, the greater the chance of disaster. i'm not even considering my experience (or lack of) in computer hardware; i'm just talking about the negative effects of versatile configurability. for this very reason, an x86 port of osx has long been perceived as a pipe dream (close-mindedness breeds perfection), while windows xp has largely gained a whore's reputation in the realm of hardware compatibility (promiscuity breeds ubiquity). laptops, and macs to a greater extent, exist in a fantasy world of closed hardware. a mac laptop, by sheer mathematical logic, would be the most direct path into the bubble of third-party ignorance; furthermore, it is my contention that this path is paved with very shiny, pleasant things. should one decide to enlist in the journey to such a magical place, one will abandon old concerns of the pc enthusiast and relish the blessed union of usability and stability. take note of how i ignore all the bad things about macs (keyword: ignore). pretending problems aren't there is the first step to recovery.

another great thing about the mac is upgrades. on a pc, you have to open up your case, swap out your video card, change jumpers... on a mac, when it's time to upgrade, you just pick it up, throw it away, and go buy another one. now that's convenience.

despite the fact that some people have actually upgraded their g4 systems and reports of mac gamers now having options when it comes to titles and video cards, games and hardware tinkering are both temptations i can do without. so on the ludicrously off chance that i follow through in the coming months and purchase a powerbook, i expect productivity to increase two-fold. of course, i'm the same person that passively researched purchasing an ipod for 12-months before jumping on an iriver. along those lines, i suppose i'm theoretically more likely to nab a pda/handheld than a powerbook.

complete non sequitur: the forecastfox extension has simultaneously contributed to the killer-app status of firefox and filled an outstanding hole in my heart. bravo.

all of this discussion was slightly prompted by my realization that i haven't made any significant hardware purchases since the summer of freshman year. my two desktops are still running on dual-933's and an overclocked 1.6a pentium4. the vast majority of all my upgrading over the last three years has been hard drives. just last night, i tossed my twelfth drive into \\suicidal, bringing the total up to 1.5+ terabytes. i'll apologize ahead of time, but like a cheap motel on prom night, there's no longer any vacancies.

sometimes jokes are so bad they just kill an entire paragraph... a sort of godwin's law if you will. anyway, amit does not lie in his recent blurb about my aspirations to turn wiki-formatting and blogging into a creamy frappuccino of xhtml goodness. i've been working with trac, a wiki-enabled project management tool, for our gameboy gps senior design project, and i'm quite impressed with its seamless blending of content management, source control, and ticket handling. specifically, you can write something like "#13" in a wiki page and have the system automatically link it to trouble ticket #13. this draws obvious parallels to my frequent references to old entries and fake error pages that have since assumed the place of my ex-girlfriends (^^;;).

i presently find myself writing each entry out in raw html using a text-editor (webform data retention + accidentally pressing the back button = sad face). the idea of plugging a rendering filter (i.e. textile) into my backend has been on my mind for a while, but the closest i came to actually implementing something of this nature was trying out a textpattern in a sandboxed public_html directory. i have grown accustomed to the no-frills method of blogging, and it's hard to forget that all of my previous attempts to turn .ars into some fancypants, modular backend suitable for public release have failed miserably. so we have the other option, of which i'm sure krupnick is in full-fledge support: wikify the comments page. eager jew that he is, mike has [rather blatantly] been using wiki code in his comment posts for the past few weeks. while i can't guarantee that some new feature will instantly bring his old comments to life, i will affirm that the wheels are in motion. whatever the hell that means is anyone's guess.


senor ayala

dude, just buy the dam thing already. Lord knows, i would if i had your green.


Is this thing on?
*[[Sexual Chochlate]]
*[[Randy Watson]]: That boy good!


high rollers, double sixes, and point-fives

today's riddle: what do i have in common with ross geller?

so, my original plan was to churn out five weblog updates as fast as humanly possible and knock 149 off the front page before kitu had a chance of reading it. to my credit, this plan was conceived before that entry ignited (in flame war fashion) a twenty-comment free-for-all on the degradation of my moral character. to fate's credit, dev solved everything by forwarding kitu a link to the article. on the one hand, i could look back and acknowledge the mistake of writing vague personal confessions in a public forum, or i could assess the outcome, tally the number of people entertained at my expense, and brand the whole debacle a wild success. consider it an unfortunate reality of this breed of weblog: the blurred boundary between private thought and public sport.

maria recently told me how she wanted to create an anonymous livejournal account to write down all of her personal confessions. that's fine and dandy, until someone you know comes along and makes the connection that you're really indiegrl84. at this very moment, maria is spending the night at her grandparents with some broad from cornell and refuses to give me a definitive answer as to the year of her birth; therefore, i must assume it is 1984. it true that we here at arsjerm put dozens time more effort into researching and crafting these posts than it takes our most uneducated readers to interpret. anyway, the other end of the weblog spectrum is to write impersonal commentary, which can range from credit card woes to the price of admission at the franklin institute.

i'll be the first to agree that writing down one's most intimate feelings is a liberating experience, that is until you misplace your diary in the school cafeteria. clearly, there are things not intended for public knowledge, but i'd be hard-pressed to recall a particular secret of mine that hasn't been shared with at least one person in my life. this stems out of an innate desire to confide in people and confess myself (ala james 5:16). in deciding who gets to hear what, there's often a sound basis for my discernment, such as refusing to indulge senor ayala (or pratik, for that matter) with lascivious details about each and every romantic encounter. now, my rationale for public revelation via weblog is to maintain sincerity under a veil of ambiguity. i give jay credit for pinpointing the crux of my failure, and dev for confirming it ("i'd be insulted if i had any idea what you were referring to"). i document my thoughts with such obscurity that misinterpretation is inevitable; moreover, i seldom consider the negative consequences. irresponsible yes, but it's what i do best.

i had a slew of things to do over this glorious five-day thanksgiving weekend, but the rest of this sentence goes without saying. wednesday night was spent dancing with carolyn to the live and incredibly loud tunes of big orange cone at a boardwalk/beach club in point pleasant. thursday began with me waking up dead-tired and stricken with a headache/loss-of-hearing, with my father asking me if i got wasted the night prior (oh, the irony). i proceeded to whip up a dish of stuffed mushrooms to take to my aunt's home for dinner that afternoon, and later spent a wonderful hour in conversation (no, seriously) with my uncle while driving over to her house. so wonderful, in fact, that i obliviously overshot her exit on the highway and got lost. the friday that was tonight consisted of going out for drinks with ayala and pratik to celebrate my newfound post-graduation employment opportunity. more irony: had adriana not decided to leave work early, we actually would have [purposely] ran into her. i go to such great lengths to prove that i'm not avoiding her, and in the end, i spend $15 on a pint of yeungling and a milkshake.

this last paragraph will be the culmination of my promise to ayala: to have an update waiting for his perusal by the time he got up for work the next day. and my second promise still stands. the fictional narrative known only as "rich black youths" (in paraphrase) will happen one way or another. if i have to run myself over to the jersey city heights and prod jay's lifeless fingers across his clicky keyboard, godforbid, i will make this pending work of literature a reality. i end on a quote of extraordinary truth:

pdemarco: i know, and i agree; it's to our advantage to tilt things at times in our favor


The War Veteran

yo ayala, you know i would've burned you if we weren't going up a hill, causing a vast decrease in visibility which hindered my ability to ascertain whether an on-coming vehicle was going to slam into me or not; till next time King, hehe.

senor ayala

i dont think so. you attempted to pass me on the side, only to get blinded by rear lights as i drove off.

to leave with vin diesel's words in the fast and the furious:

vin: "had me?? you never had your car!!"
crowd: "OOOHHH!!!"

The War Veteran

you lying bastard! you know full well that if i continued going (thus winning) some old guy in a cadillac would've managed to accomplish what rpg-waving iraqis couldn't for a year.


Oh yes...lets just post whatever we feel like and totally ignore jeremy's post. That will surely tick jeremy off more than the poor spelling in my post.
As for jeremy's post i have to say: "Jeremy, you use you tounge prettier than a two dollar whore"
*[[Blazing Saddles]]

As for posting your most personal feelings to be viewed by all, it is quite entertaining a sort of [[Jeremy's Emotional Spectator Sport]] as you imply.
More to come


yesterday in renaissance studies

mr. andrew numa, winner of the 2004 most-corrupted-nincompoop award, recently introduced me to an acquaintance of his by the name of ashley. i must confess that i first met the young lass in september when numa invited her to some campus event; however, at the time, mr. numa was courting a handful of ladies, and i knew her only as number three. my conversations with ms. ashley have, among other things, revealed the possibilities of human interaction when there isn't a pervading tension of trying to impress the other person. likewise, i find myself talking to her as a person, and not under the label of dude or chick. all in all, it's very liberating... much the same way as walking around the house in my boxers.

enter dev ramudit, project manager for group 9 and a potential roommate for next semester. i tend to look at him as a makeshift replica of jay, who's now livin' large in the heights of jersey city with mooney (pinballer and all-a-round high roller). i should mention that, to date, jay has been the only roommate i've thoroughly enjoyed the company of. but regarding dev: wherever he goes, a cloud of coolness seems to follow in his path; maybe it's his dignified sense of fashion or the fact that he's always on. in any event, i've recently been testing his patience (read: inciting wrath) in certain matters along the lines of, "i hate the way you act around your girlfriend... it's so not the dev i know and love." in doing so, i've either wrongfully assumed that dev was incapable of anger or simply lack the ability to sense when he's kidding around with me. the only definitive thing about his raging outbursts towards my comments has been my fearful contemplation over [idle?] threats that he would drop out of senior design to spite us all. a man of junior standing, dev certainly has the option of taking his senior design during his next, final year... but the effects of such a rash abandonment would surely be devastating for our present team.

not that much of this will make sense to the outside reader, but it's really not my intention to insult his girlfriend at all. i frankly don't know the girl, and i'm consistently stricken with guilt each time i use her as a scapegoat for dev being off. i suppose (to me, at least) she's nothing more than a comic gag that i employ in my lamentations over dev's poor behavior. to her credit, much of my negative criticisms of dev are rooted in his moments of flavored-malt-induced inebriation. i could go on, but dev has already yelled at me for breaking his "brother's confidence" (holy silly greek tradition, batman!), and until i can discern if it was motivated by alcohol or legitimate emotion, i'd rather not discuss the matter.

i'm once again compelled to brand myself an attention whore. a better man would not even find himself in these situations. i have nothing significant to gain by hanging around dev and his friends, but i do so for the sake of entertaining people. i seriously can't help it sometimes, and the guilt that follows never fails to destroy my self-esteem. one can only imagine the outcome when dev recruited the positively enchanting indo-russian connection, affectionately known as kitu and maria. i had met maria earlier in the semester at a franz ferdinand concert, and have actually spoken to her for some months, knowing her only as the girl that uploaded episodes of daria to \\suicidal. anywho, it took me one night at that concert to burst her bubble about the 'impeccable' reputation of mr. suicidal, and i quickly earned the nickname "chuggalicious" for reasons i'd rather not get into.

i met kitu some time later, thanks in part to the novelty of smoking a hookah during a four-day stint in krupnick's room. our first impression was amusing, and it was clear that she was toting some lofty expectations about the gentleman behind the 1.4-terabyte mask. over the course of her visits to the house in the company of maria and dev, as well as several spontaneous trips to china town, i was able to dissuade many of her conjectures about my character. nevertheless, i could not prevent certain reactions to our first meeting:

tukiperson: guess what?
tukiperson: i met suicidal
satya haereticus: what
tukiperson: \\suicidal
satya haereticus: NO WAY
tukiperson: YES WAY
satya haereticus: whoaaaa
tukiperson: seriously
satya haereticus: you have met the lord... wow
satya haereticus: you're more lucky than the kids who got a golden ticket to willy wonka's factory!

i have a logical basis to say that i shouldn't read transcripts of this nature, as it only feeds my lust for attention. in any sane state of mind, i can affirm that egotism is vile and undesirable. unfortunately, temptation is not without its indulgences, which is precisely why ~70 t-shirts were sold and another order is on the way. in one conversation with kitu, attempting to further lower her respect for me, i analogized myself to the wizard of oz, whereby the shock and awe surrounding \\suicidal was merely the result of some no-frills nitwit in a dark room pulling levers. sadly, i sometimes come to question my own humility as a feeble attempt to procure more attention for myself. as immature as it may sound, i look to nate as this image of perfection (much to dev's chagrin). i hardly knew him enough to infer what went through his mind during the golden days, but from my external vantage point, he did everything right, kept a low profile, and played it safe when everything came crashing down; his reign of anonymity earned him infamy.

jmikola: kitu is perhaps the largest example of how i've failed as suicidal

it's true. the fact that people exist with a notion that i'm some great hero is absolutely preposterous, regardless of how easily that notion dissolves upon meeting me in person. "so jeremy, tell me about kitu." i must admit that i orginally took the young lady for a fob while playing a game of foursquare (noun) outside the library a few weeks ago. i've since adjusted my analysis after witnessing kitu's remarkable command of the english language firsthand; her speech truly is impeccable. furthermore, i can't help but be intrigued by her personality. i find it both intimidating and alluring at the same time. it's baffling, really. and frustrating that i like her, because i can't bring myself to reiterate past mistakes with some false sense of optimism that things would be different this time around. sigh. she gives such nice hugs.

while we're on the subject of women i've seen in the past week and a half, i was quite pleased by the recent encounters i've had with carolyn. funny story: last wednesday, i came deathly close to having kitu, ashley, carolyn, and adriana in the same room together (not by my own free will, of course), along with krupnick, dev, and myself, among others. my apprehension toward the meeting alerted me to some subliminal concerns i was harboring about seeing carolyn again for the first time since last spring. oddly enough, and for the benefit of all involved, i found myself to be quite uninhibited and relaxed in her presence. now, maybe it was the malibu talking, but this could very well be the first step into becoming a fully-functioning human being. she's stopped by a few times since and i've yet to find myself in an uncomfortable situation. good times.

before the editorial staff rips me a new one, i should confess that the word impeccable was employed twice prior in this update, and that i used capital letters in select locations. i would like to apologize for both offenses, and leave on this wonderful bit of seinfeldian commentary:

men, as an organization, are getting more women than any other group, working anywhere in the world, today. wherever women are, we have men looking into the situation, right now.



there was no bubble, no thought to your reputation (no idea that you even had a reputation), and no preconceived notions concerning the nature and/or appearance of your character. and you know that, so shut up.

senor ayala

in the immortal words of Nelson The Bully: HA-HA!!


i think we've already established i'm an attention whore; therefore, along those lines, i think it's entirely reasonable for me to have made brash assumptions. mayhaps a quote from a post-entry discussion on the matter will help resolve things:

jmikola: if you didn't think of me, you wouldn't have given me daria episodes, so there
mkrasnov: i owed you one cause i def raped the server... and i didn't give you daria for you... i gave you daria so everyone else could watch it...
mkrasnov: i mean for you too
mkrasnov: but
jmikola: nevertheless, you cannot claim that you never recognized suicidal as an actual person
jmikola: AHA!
mkrasnov: i did, i just didn't think anything of it
mkrasnov: i thought oh this kid seems nice, end of story
jmikola: AHA!
jmikola: 'nice'... that's close to impeccable

senor ayala

the quote is from Jerry Seinfeld "Im Telling You For The Last Time". watch the dvd if you can, its on \\suicidal.

and jeremy, nice = overdelicate + fastidious (


nice try bullfrog. that was an opportune place to cut off the convo log, but creative journalism only goes so far...nice isn't remotely close to impeccable and your mom knows it.


"it's baffling, really. and frustrating that i like her, because i can't bring myself to reiterate past mistakes"

Past mistakes? To put this most eloquently, that's fucked up, Jeremy. No one should regret their past experiences...especially those kind involving relationships of two years or more [if my memory serves me correctly].

If I were the person you were referring to in that statement, I'd be very hurt. Was that one of your intentions by writing that statement?


hey jeremy...just wanted to say i think the FOB mistake comment is not nice. i am sure i know who you are referring to as a mistake, and even tho things didnt work out, you shouldnt make yourself believe it was a worthless experience. plus, why open up the wounds?


uh oh; it looks like jeremy is in trouble for being stupid again...

if you're going to be vague about things, its better not to put them up at all; if your writings are to be an insiders only message to yourself and perhaps another, ala my 171, and especially involving women who generally cannot deduce tone from diction, its better to either shelf it or can the pussyfooting.

being mean and abject about life and others and actually getting away with it socially is a difficult thing to master; it took me years. you broke rule 1. please leave it to the professionals.

(post in accordance with arsjerm capitalization standards)


it my understanding of your comment system and links has been greatly exagerrated

senor ayala

snoop: if a ni99a getta attitude...
pharrell: pop'em like its hot,
pop'em like its hot,
pop'em like its hot...

looks like jere's ready to get popped ;)


how to do this without being defensive. rule 1 be damned.

in all my arguments with dev and the other half of campus that already knows about the situation, i was told that the new actors are not the old actors and that old experiences didn't apply here. on the other hand, i reply that the actors themselves are irrelevant; it's the origin scenario that's identical, where i ask: is a long-term relationship possible the way things are now?

on three past accounts, my err in judgment was wrongfully convincing myself 'yes' (point a). i consider the 'point a' experiences necessary to realize what factors imply 'no'. so far, relevant to [only] myself: incongruent faith; emotional disconnection; conflict of personality. the ensuant 'point b' is the inevitable culmination of awareness that the answer was 'no'. and my mistake each time: dragging things out along a miserable downward spiral.

starting a relationship could never be considered a mistake until now, because ignorance/inexperience is no longer an excuse and i'm aware of the consequences. as such, the preceding consideration cannot be retroactive. sometime between then and now, the context of 36.5 shifted from dhara to the impersonal difference of faith. perhaps it's because i'm finally being presented with an opportunity to apply that experience. to that effect, the concept of mistakes and experiences has little or nothing to do with people and much to do with education.


You completely forgot to write about Plucky and the duck book incident... I thought we were pals!?


don't you think its about time your actions were in accordance with your beliefs? i realize that this is kind of your point in your obfuscated diatribe below... of course, which ones (actions or professed thoughts) are true is anyone's guess, because you have the remarkable ability to say one thing, do another, say you maintain the former, and repeat the latter. try avoiding the latter this time, and see if you don't learn it might be time to revise the former.


dev suggested i shut down and move to canada... perhaps start things over with

ashley: you already covered it in your journal, and i forgot what format of citations i use.

as amit will appreciate the relevance of this: "for what i want to do i do not do, but what i hate i do." i can't come close to claiming infallibility in synchronizing my actions and ideals, but it's clearly the actions that need revising. i'm still waiting for dev to drop his rant about this... it'd really help pour the cement over the little hole i've dug myself into.

Capt. Jean-Luc Pikachu

I prefer blockquote w/ the cite attribute set and a p tag inside the blockquote.

I'm sure w/ a little effort, I could come up w/ the appropriate Naruto analogy...


I will cement Jeremy later, for now I quote:

Art thou a man? Thy form cries out thou art;
Thy tears are womanish

Unseemly woman in a seeming man!

Why railest thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?
Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit,
Misshapen in the conduct of them all

So for what I was actually going to refer to (NOTE: I CAPITALIZE IN DEFIANCE OF THEE)

Your last comment to your post is nigh incoherent to anyone reading it except those who understand the situation from all angles.

So in essence, you've basically confused and possibly angered those who do not know you on a personal level, as the whole comment makes little to no sense grammatically and even less sense to those who do not understand the intricacies of what you're actually referring to.

Not that these are horribly complicated subjects or anything so just spit it out and get it over with already. You're pulling the bandaid off slow enough to kill the child.

As far as your reputation as suicidal is concerned, first, who cares? and second, what the hell?

As far as "i have nothing significant to gain by hanging around dev and his friends", I'd be insulted if I had any idea what you were referring to. If social interaction is completely pointless, why do you go out so often? Another point, if interacting with people in general is distasteful to you, why have a website proclaiming to the world your thoughts with a handy comment section for them to lash out at you from?

Another case of your words not coinciding with what you actually do. Introspection is important to an individual, but I'm not sure if you're underdoing it or killing yourself with it.

As a final note, none of us are getting pies. Congratulations.


God forbid i should not post and be a part of all these sheniganigans. But to be honest i thought i knew what was going on, till i read your WHOLE post. Now i am just confused, and the comments do me not much better. Damn you people and your <sp>eloquince</sp> and big ass [[mother fucking]] words.
As for jays comment which i partially understood, i have to agree with his assesment of your two headedness(esk?). I often wonder to myself if perhaps this [[whole religion thing]] is just a mask you wear to shield you from the real world?
Anyway how ever it shall end out for you, i sure will enjoy continuing to watching your agony, and edging you on to more stupid shit. Man i need to get a woman, or a hobby.

senor ayala

lmao. thats a great essay. funny shit.

as fore the 2-faced-ness (is that a word?), i knew of this all along. jere can testify to it. however, it seems now i am not the only one speaking out against it.

good luck friend, and remember....regression is inevitable.


Man, people stoped posting, and my enjoyment has ceased. What is up with that.
Dood, just bang the broad already, then goto confessional and ask for forgivness. ooh...even better yet bang the broad in the confessional booth.
: )


Krup is right... if only we could all make problems go away by banging in a confessional. Life would be better as we know it.

senor ayala

yeah we should all just keep banging each other in confessionals, this way we can also take care of any racial issues by eventually looking like each other. ^_^


bob, lady's dry

once again we have an entry two weeks in the making. october 22: senor ayala's return from his 3-week trip to ecuador could not have come sooner. i had stories to tell and sentiments to confess. he had tales to tell of his amazing travels through the homeland. a conversation over a dimly lit table at applebee's was the only remedy for the situation. he wants to abandon his title of "king" and invest his time in courting a darling little pre-med in ecuador. meanwhile on the home front, penance is due for some past promiscuity and i'm giving an audience to the chatter of romantic pundits. i certainly don't need their advice, but i know hearing them perpetually restate the obvious decision will make me less likely to bend like a twig when the time comes to seek absolution for this one moment of passion.

ayala has a knack for rummaging through the indie film scene and finding gold. apropos, he came across two films dissecting the elements of romantic relationships. in tadpole, we have a cultured, young sophomore from high school seeking love among women three times his age. it prompted me to draw some parallels to the futility of relationships held by so many of my peers. for every long-term relationship with sincere emotional connection and consideration for a future, a dozen more are merely examples of young adults seizing their sexual prime by the gonads [and strife] and running with it. recently, my social interaction with females has been steadily on the rise and i've acknowledged several opportunities to venture into a new relationship, much along the lines of a retro game show with prizes hiding behind big, white doors. but faux-gay persona aside, i'm convinced that none of these paths/doors are worth investigating/opening. my conscience is already burdened with the thought that 2.1 relationships on my record is 1.1 too many. i'd like to think that 36.5 was significant enough to instill some resolve toward starting things off with the wrong motives.

rodger dodger, the second film, took no stops in illustrating the hedonistic approach that some take to relationships. at first, i made rampant person-to-character identifications: krupnick to the womanizing roger swanson and myself to roger's n00b, virgin nephew, among others. i would like to clarify that, following a personal conversation i had with mr. krupnick two nights ago, i consider him less of a whore than when i first watched the film two weeks ago. likewise, i may pale in comparison to his antics but i'm hardly innocent. [another awkward sentence about the movie's portrayal of insatiable lust has been removed — i really need to find another word to use in place of relationship].

there's no reason i should have waited two weeks to write this. i'd be lying if i said more didn't happen. but sleepiness and hallucinations are starting to set in. frankly, it took about 24 minutes just to write these last three sentences (as if that's never happened before). if its any consolation, the title for my next entry is already waiting atop a new weblog draft, and there's an epic slice of contemporary american literature on its way as soon as jmoiron gets his affairs in order. i'll most likely be spending tomorrow night (which, coincidentally, is only 15 hours away) in the company of senor ayala and pratik, so it's anyone's guess if i'll actually come through with the unabridged account of the last two weeks. [jmikola proceeds to pass out accordingly].


senor ayala

"ayala has a knack for rummaging through the indie film scene and finding gold."

HAHA, thats a great sentence! thanks for that one and im glad you enjoyed the films, i do recommend everyone to watch them as soon as jere makes them available on \\suicidal.


black market flu shots, now in color

in an attempt not to start another post with the conjunction i'm, i will instead utilize the word in. that was easy. the frame of my senior year at snevets is coming into focus. projects are aligning themselves, career options are being investigated, research is progressing steadily, and fall semester courses have already hit their climax. i'd much like to say it was downhill from here, but that might imply i have time to sleep more than five hours a night... and sleep is not a luxury i can presently afford. on the one hand, i've got a slightly better outlook on things now than two days ago. i've been consistent in getting stuff done by the absolute last minute, and i haven't had to give up any of my questionable free time activities. i say questionable because one could ask what i actually do and i wouldn't have an answer. i move files around and sort 0-day goodies. i read news and comic strips. i watch tv shows that aren't on hiatus. i talk with people. collectively, these activities amount to a substantial amount of time; however, they're all essentially nothing. so when people ask what i'm doing besides work, the answer irrevocably defaults to: nothing.

i must admit that if i've had trouble with anything, it's been balancing the ta duties and research work under ddig. i'm a good week behind on grading (hw3 and hw4 are currently pending my review) and i've still be gliding by on the research work. if i remember anything from undergrad cs courses, it was wondering why it takes the ta so damn long to grade a stupid assignment. allow me to answer that question by saying, "i'm too busy doing nothing." but in all seriousness, i'm constantly worrying about accidentally offending duchamp in some way. for example, i kind of didn't show up for a research meeting this afternoon due to some time discrepancy between our respective day planners. furthermore, jay reported seeing a despondent duchamp walking out of the cs department between the time of our real meeting and the imaginary meeting i thought was taking place at 2pm. i swear i felt like doing penance for this. as the next best thing, i composed a lengthy email in two chapters and sent it to him immediately upon returning to the house. it's quite obvious that i think he's a swell professor, so it's only natural that i wouldn't want to disappoint him in the slightest... especially considering all the talks he gave me about past assistants taking on too much work and failing miserably and how he's happy to see i'm still forging ahead. the man's got a heart of gold (*tear*). also, his sincere encouragement might as well be a necessary ingredient in the recipe involving me and a graduate thesis come may.

tuesday's selection of teams for the final project in senior design, which will span the remainder of the school year, was surprising, to say the least. now, when i refer to our, i mean tom lutz and myself, and when i say project, i mean a gps mapping application running on the gameboy advance handheld (think in-dash trip planner). our cs team originally had 13 applicants, which i had to reduce to the top seven (exluding myself). clearly, the project had considerable sex appeal among a plethora of web-based, business applications. but the day of team selection, a real game was added to the list of available projects and a substantial chunk of top-notch applicants disappeared. frankly, i myself was ready to drop my own project and sign up with these other guys. so, as funny stories go, i now have a team of seven (one below the intended minimum), including the infamous ymalik and two guys from alphasig that i originally dropped in the pre-selection (they, of course, know i wanted to pass on them). if it's any consolation, mr. lutz and his sidekick brian creswick (representing the comp-eng team) are hard at work on the project's hardware, which consists of wiring a gps and flash memory reader to a gameboy cartridge. at the very least, working with this smaller team will actually give me a chance to touch the code, and while i can't help but see two-sevenths of the team as a burden, i'm simultaneously relieved that the spontaneous team exodus calmed my agita about the prospect of working with some schmucks for the rest of this year.

to finish things up with a stirring conclusion, i'm quite satisfied with my recent purchase of the iriver h120. i tried dilligently to haggle several bestbuy stores down to the rumored $214 clearance price everyone has been talking about, but was consistently given the runaround about local markets and how people in levittstown, new york live in a bubble uninfluenced by our national economy. the entire 5-hour ordeal was almost worth it to see the floor clerks piss themselves with anger at the prospect of losing their spiff to a cash-loaded white boy. if i didn't have so much evidence about the corruption that goes on at these electronics whorehouses, i'd be capable of respecting their business. the commentary i've heard surrounding senor ayala's stint at electronics expo makes it sound as if the entire job is a 40-hour-per-week guilt trip. it's also interesting to note that many of the older (age 35+) clerks are very nice people who could care less about pimping warranties, while the younger twenty-somethings are generally overzealous pricks (this excludes alex at the bestbuy in west paterson, new jersey, whose service i found both refreshing and delightful — he actually would have offered me the $214 price had they not been out of stock). and to think i once considered taking a position in sales.



I was instructed that from now on in order for you to update, you must recieve 24 hour notice in a prior comment that an update is requested. Consider yourself duly noted. The events/'wasting of time' of the last two nights should provide ample stories of which to share with the world (Me, jay, and ayala).
Oh yeah, and you need a preview system for your comments. And wiki's would be nice too.
*[ Stevens]


I would like to formally request that you allow [ wiki]'s in your comments.


profanity has no discourse

i'm not writing this entry out of interest or desire, but out of obligation and empty, little promises. some will argue that this post should have been preceded by 145.5, an action tantamount to me personally announcing the start or end of some relationship. i'm in no mood to comment about it. krupnick can spread all the salacious gossip he likes, grzyb can hang wild party photos of me on the chapter room window to his heart's content, and mr. mavani (aka the peanut gallery) can give me romantic advice until his mouth runs dry. against the instincts afforded me by male hormones and the blind encouragement from colleagues, i'm merely praying for clarity and the maturity to own up to my convictions. choice exists for the purpose of employing it, not to make us regret the past for never having made a decision.

there has been too much accumulating in my head over the past five weeks. it was stuff i wanted to write down so i could read it again in a few months and reminisce. keyword: was. now i'm locked into a cyclic playlist of manson and nine inch nails, compressing my emotion in a state of borderline melancholia. it'd be too easy to blame this on my living situation: i'm surrounded by religious bigotry and monochromatic personalities. as for the frat itself, "to better the man" is a joke compared to what happened here last friday. considering one very special andrew numa, i find it hard to argue how the fraternal establishment can make claims of promoting character while simultaneously providing a rebellious, home-schooled sunday school kid the outlet to every sin.

senor ayala, this is not the update you wanted. jason moiron, this is not the update you stayed up for, waiting to read. amit jain... irev has less bandwidth than your fifth testicle. the burdens of academia are suffocating me, such that my todo list will never be empty. still, my theory of never missing a deadline, whatever the circumstances, has yet to be disproved. things have a way of getting done, whether i try or not. and updates have a way of getting written, whether i care or not.


Michael Krupnick

I was at first going to write to you about how much you missed and be my usual self, but i find myself obliged to comment on a serious nature hence the lack of use of nicknames. What happened last friday was certianly not something anyone should be proud of, and it certianly is not. People within the house are very angry as to its ocourance, myself included. Certian people should know better, others are young an stupid. We are angry, but this act occouring under our noses does not mean that our purpose "to better the man" is a joke. I take offence to this. It is human nature to make mistakes and as a house we have a moral obligation to discuss this particular mistake and "better the man". One would expect these mistakes to be made by young people...but the important thing is that they learn from it, not only learn to not do it again, but furthermore why it was wrong.
Anyway i felt this needed to be said, i apologize for the rambleing way in which it came out. I wish i was more elegant in my writings as you or jay, and perhaps one of you will translate with another post.


from what i picked up during a recent brother meetings, we don't promote morals, just 'character'. i would question the moral judgement of the house on the very prospect of hosting a bachelor party for a married man, and some justifying it on the fact that his mail-order bride from india wasn't in the country yet. beyond that, the entire ordeal of going from strippers to an escort service is just icy on the cake as far as i'm concerned. i realize that these events were indulged in by a fraction of the 'brotherhood', with the limit approaching zero as the illicitness increased, but i still stand by my observation that this house has made available every vice short of hard drugs to mr. numa.

furthermore, a portion of my sentiment is rooted in the commentary of certain innocents in the house not wishing to chastise the older gentleman who "should have known better" because he's our super-hero alumni figure who dropped time and money on us like it's hot. although, i frankly don't see what any of you can possibly say to the jons themselves, as i'm sure (in their presently sober states) they're fully aware that it was a mistake. likewise, had they been sober then, i'm sure such shenanigans would never have occurred.

btw, i removed your duplicate post (for the second time). stop tapping the submit butten when you write a comment, as if you're competing to get "f1r5t p0st!"... this isn't slashdot. good night sir.


Two quips, both borrowed from the same genius:

The surest way to corrupt a youth is to instruct him to hold in higher esteem those who think alike than those who think differently.

Morality is herd instinct in the individual.

Michael Krupnick

I think we do promote morals. I think the mere fact that this is stirring up such a fuss withing the brotherhood is exactly that. Now as to whose definition of morals we should uphold... that is left to interpretation. But i assure you no ones morals here would include what occurred. Come to the house meeting, and i can assure you that quite a few people intend to bring it up.

Now for something completely different:
You need times and dates on these posts, cause the bottom up convention of posting is confusing to my feeble mind.
As for the duplicate post... well i hit back and yeah... sorry.


the update i seek can only be told over half-price appetizers...


leave it to jay so say some sh!t like that. morality is within the f%$k what you heard.


i will never concede that morality exists only in the subjective sense of each person. it's reasonable to say that each person shapes their morals accordingly, but i consider it foolish not to acknowledge a basic mold of morals that we all innately possess. how we develop off that initial mold is merely evolution as a product of our psychological environments, and all that crap. now hypothetically, if some retard wants to defend his stance on prostitution or cheating on your girlfriend as something morally acceptable, i'm going to say this has nothing to do with morality and everything to do with his ability to suppress morals under his own hedonistic desires. why are we even discussing this?

and senor ayala, you're absolutely right. everything i refused to discuss about the last 40 days can only be delivered in a personal conversation. and you shall have it.


programming for poets

despite some rumors that i've forfeited my individualism and hopped aboard the textpattern bandwagon, the facts do assert that i'm still sloppily posting this dribble from the poorly acclaimed dot ars backend, which is little more than a batch of homemade cookies gone awry. it's certainly true that i was dabbling with mr. allen's creation all through august. i likewise had planned to give senor ayala his own account to post with (on this site), but i never got around to finalizing either and ayala has since moved on with a real livejournal. he appears to be wasting no time filling it with traditional livejournal-esque musings. at the moment, i've no idea why the computer he had last week is now ripped to pieces; however, i'm sure that will be revealed in due time. there's also the possibility that it was already revealed and my mind is skipping, perhaps because there's a week of exciting events floating around in my head just dying to be put to words.

a few posts back, i went through the names of some old white friends (obviously from out of town) i had in middle school. i remember thinking that those were good times. multiply that by a fixed constant greater than two and you'd have last sunday, which i spent out with three former classmates from my grade school years. ron loverdi, formerly known as ronald dorkowski and one of an elite few best friends during my seven-year stint at jefferson school #1, sent me a completely random instant message last sunday "just for the hell of it" (as some would say). our conversation continued for some time, covering all the bases about what was up, down, and in-between. he then happened to mention that sean faulkner, a mutual friend of ours from back then, was back in town on summer break and that the two of them had gone out the night before for a bite to eat. since sean would be heading back to california in a few days for the fall semester, i seized the opportunity at hand and set up a meeting for us three the following night, not hesitating to add pratik mavani, war hero at large, to the guest list for this spontaneous reunion of old chums. it was at this time that i received another, equally random instant message from sean regarding the previous night's dinner with ron:

sean faulkner: did ron also mention a certain lil adriana character?

time for a story. a long time ago, when we were all little kids, and i had glasses and bushy hair, and ron was a little bit chubby, and sean had a big head full of freckles, we were in the sixth grade. those that remember this time would tell me that i was quite a character back then, and i suppose i would have to agree with them. just for the record, the other guys in the class once distracted karen (the karen that's still not talking to me for a completely different reason than the one i'm about to divulge) while i ran up, tackled, and kissed her on the cheek. this practice was not uncommon with other girls in my class. teehee. but anyway, it was the sixth grade and there were a few new people in our class for that year, that had transferred in to enroll in the school's honors level class (only one or two schools offered had an honors program at the time). one of these new people was adriana. the most vivid memory i have of adriana was sitting with her and one of the other new students, angela, at the lunch table with pratik. each day, pratik and i would insult each other to no end, employing each and every crude "your mamma" or "you're so [adjective]" joke that came to mind. i believe this practice was called dissing in some circles. pratik and i elicited laughter from both adriana and angela for many months, until one day we were called to the principal's office and lectured by then-principal mr. werling about inappropriate behavior in the presence of angela and her really tall, menacing father. needless to say, our popular lunchtime performances were discontinued after that.

continuing the story, i must confess that in the sixth grade, i was rather short for my age. also, despite my reputation as a social butterfly, comedian, and intellectual in my youth, i was damn bashful in the midst of girls i found stunningly attractive and/or cute. adriana was one such girl, and while i never hesitated to entertain her at the lunch table, i would not in a thousand years ever had summoned the courage to flirt with her. this may seem to conflict with the aforementioned behavior of kiss-and-run tactics, but those were merely a combination of mob mentality, careless fun, and annoyance rather than romantic interest. i will now continue this story from a second point of view. granted, i have no solid recollection of this, but i was assured that the events unfolded as so. it was often the case with grade school holiday's that each child's mother would send their son/daughter to school with cards and/or gifts for the other students. on valentine's day of my sixth grade year, adriana gave everyone but me a valentine's day card. she apparently lost my valentine's day card that day, and found it two years later, long after she had gone on to a private school for seventh and eight grade. now i will forever have my doubts as to what was written in that card, but as the story goes... had i received that card, which was unique from all the others adriana handed out that day, it would have made for a much happier ending than me never talking to her again for the next nine years.

a very short time after sean brought up her name, ron had set up some amazingly impromptu meeting for the four of us: ron, sean, adriana and myself. they had bumped into her the night before at dinner, whereby it was discovered that she had been living one block away from sean's house for the last decade. none of them seemed to had known this, although i, for some reason, have been completely aware of it since the seventh grade. go figure. now, when ron asked me to meet up with them at applebee's (honestly, where else?), i gave some calm, laid-back answer like, "ok, sounds good," or "that's cool." to be quite honest, i was anything but that which my response inferred; giddy, dizzy, faint, dumbfounded, amazed... all come to mind. this all happened within a time span of two hours.

applebee's was a bit of a blur. it was there that i heard the latter half of the previous story about the valentine's day card and everything. my initial impression was certainly one of being blown away, or trapped in a state of disbelief. i was so caught up on the whole "i was such a dork back then" train of thought that i had a hard time swallowing her story/confession, irregardless of the fact that i'm still a dork at this current point in time and that her level of cuteness has risen exponentially since grade school. sean headed home after applebee's, and i tagged along with those remaining (ron, adriana, and her friend) for a drive up to clinton road in west milford. the prospect of visiting a 'haunted' road as "something to do" had never occurred to me in all my years of driving a car, but i imagine it's somewhat of a popular pastime for a fair number of high school students. it took us a good hour to drive along that eight-mile road in the dark with my black pickup truck. ron was in the rear of the cab keeping it real with all sorts of colorful commentary; meanwhile, i couldn't figure out if the two girls in the front seat were screaming just to set the atmosphere and scare the crap out of me, or if they were actually frightened. case in point, i'm a ninny that got scared several times while driving along clinton road.

i refused to turn around once we got to the end of the road, which was still in west milford, believing that there had to be some way of getting back onto the highway from that side of town. by this time, it was after 2am, we were somewhat lost in the rural/super-suburban section of west milford, and ron and i had to pee. while ron and i were along the roadside, i decided to wave down a passing car for directions. the ladies, still in the truck with the doors locked (perhaps they were a bit scared after all), got scared as hell when i did this, as if the car that slowed down was filled with some combination of klansmen, anarchists, and your everyday, vanilla serial killers, all waiting to leave us dead in the woods. no one died, but i happened to forget the directions before getting back to the car, so we had to drive back through clinton road to find route 23. after we got through, i stopped at a gas station and remembered that the fuel dial in the truck's dash didn't quite work, and that we were actually so low on gas that we could have run out while driving through the woods. good things.

i dropped everyone off at home after that, after inviting both ron and adriana up to my campus the next time there's a party going on. this particular arrangement actually gives me a reason to persuade others in the house to organize a party as soon as humanly possible, which varies somewhat from my prior level of interest in the goings-on of the social committee. as this all happened on a sunday, the following night saw a gathering of the same crowd, with the addition of pratik, and some more gallivanting around northern jersey. that night was also very enjoyable, but not much unlike many of the subtle details of sunday evening, i will choose not to elaborate for any of several vaque reasons. although, just to demonstrate and prove that i am still, in fact, a dork... i sat in my chair after returning sunday night and pondered for a good hour whether or not i should send a text message to adriana's cell phone. granted, i could not call senor ayala to give me advice in this situation, and i was having a great deal of trouble balancing the unwanted evil of initiating post-event correspondence too soon against the fact that i gave her an absolutely horrible good-bye after dropping everyone off that night. some hugs were exchanged, but i was involved in none of them. alas, what sheer pain it was to watch myself in the third person [from memory] sitting in my truck while everyone was exchanging huggy good-byes. sadly, these are the issues that most tax my mind.

at 5:33am, dead tired and with six hours until my first class of the fall semester, i sent her a text message and collapsed into bed. after re-reading the three sentences of that message the following morning, i spent the greater half of that day hitting myself over the head for it. my name is jeremy mikola. i am a dork.



what was the text message?


"he appears to be wasting no time filling it with traditional livejournal-esque musings."

i figured i had to keep it up, i wasnt gonna post quality entries.


u'r a ninny! and last i saw, the fuel dial worked


it hurts so much to type this out again:

thank you for dragging ron out tonight. it was great seeing you (plural and/or singular) again. and btw, you still owe me a valentine's day card =)


i wonder if you find writing about your experiences in this way somewhat therapeutic, since you undoubtedly know that posting your feelings on the web and specifically on your site gives them a *chance* of reaching the appropriate people, if not immediately than at least eventually. you certainly have things mixed up though; you fear extending your actions beyond what you think might be acceptable, and then you regret not doing so.. marvelous!

by the way, konqueror chooses to outline its forms however it damn well pleases, and as a result these forms are outlined in a most delightful periwinkle blue, i could send you a screenshot if you want to venture into the light and try some color sometime.


ugh, where the f$%k is the update, you piece of sh!t. LMAO


Where the F*$k is the next update you whore....Its been like 36 days and there is so much to comment on...least of which is the whole picture on the window of you downstairs....or how about you comming up to my room last night drunk off your ass and falling over....

Included in that update of course will be the un-commenting of the link to my website of course....


irish car bombs, and the protestant uprising

clocking in just shy of 23 days comes the second update in the highly acclaimed automotive-centric title series. this entry will be the accumulated result of five individual promises made over the last two weeks... two weeks which have been filled with a record level of social outings, academic blunders, and senseless interpersonal drama. the 21st birthday came and went on the 16th. i spent the evening in my software architecture class trying to keep my head up and eyes straight for lecture's duration. for purposes of coherency, which will later become most apparent, please remember this class as cs565.

pratik, the veteran war hero that he is, came over for a few nights last week, arriving just hours before my scheduled cs565 final. his presence in my room provided an impetus for procrastination, which in turn lead to approximately 35 minutes devoted to studying six lecture slides out of an allocated 3-hour timeblock. by the good graces of robin ying, visiting professor, i escaped with an a. surely, the curve must have been astonishing in that class... or there was some minor clerical error made during grade calculation. nevertheless, at this point i'd settle for either. as for the other course i was taking, analysis of algorithms, bloom decided to extend the deadline by a few days for the take-home final, without which i wouldn't have even had time to attempt completing the test. bender, amit and i will most likely be heading out for sushi sometime next week to and/or drag bloom along to court st. bar for some celebratory drinks over lunch. following these excursions, i will begin making headway on designing the "bloom for president" t-shirts.

continuing the topic of t-shirts, i'm being encouraged to produce a design for a suicidal-branded clothing line. phil suggested i offer shirts in linux and windows flavors, //suicidal and \\suicidal, respectively. at present, there's well over 20 individuals on the "sure, i'll buy one list," although i'm told that might increase with the pending interest of the ita staff (undergraduates) in the computer service department. to make an analogy, their demonstration of these shirts would be moderately comparable to guest speakers at the republican national convention wearing one of these. if these actually get printed, this will shape up to be a very interesting semester, indeed. at the very least, there should be some good competition with \\minkus, who topped himself to 1.74 terabytes over the summer. phil's getting a new 160gb from maxtor in a few weeks to replace a drive that died over the summer, no longer needs, so that should find a lovely new home in the black tower.

but perhaps the most ill-timed event of the last few weeks had to do with i2hub. there was some article in the wall street journal in mid-july about a reporter that hopped onto the hub and helped himself to a slew of copyrighted materials. in early august, the it department here must have caught wind and decided to investigate for whatever reason, probably assuming stevens was one of the universities accessing the network. lo and behold, my name pops up third from the top on the i2hub staff page: jeremy mikola — assistant executive of research and development. to be fair, i was only writing small php scripts for them, which, i must say, could have been written in my sleep with my right pinky finger dangling off my bed and sliding across my keyboard. such was the insignificance of my contribution. however, as jay could certainly attest, wayne change possesses an unstoppable entrepreneurial spirit, and a penchant for conjuring up job titles (buzzwords not included). so anyway, some higher-ups on campus came across my 'position' at i2hub, and word trickled down to me, through a grapevine of underground communication. by the night's end, i had severed my ties to i2hub, since this wasn't something worth standing up for, regardless of the legitimacy of my work with mr. chang. i politely refused chang's offer to deploy a legal team in my defense (/me chuckles) and that was that. the it department was evidently pleased to have resolved things under the table, i continue not to exist in their eyes, and gasoline prices are reasonable. all is well with the world.

and then last week i received a wonderful little item in the mail: my i2hub corporate id card, complete with embossed name and job title. in fact, it might as well be a credit card sans the magnetic strip. as for functionality, the fact that i'm no longer involved with the hub means this is nothing more than a ridiculous souvenir. it has just about as much shock value as my new license, which includes a stellar photo of me in the suit. a new passport with the same photo will be due out in six weeks. once again, the suit has proven itself a trivial $21 investment that has yielded returns beyond my wildest imagination.

but by this point, it must seem that the past weeks have been filled to the brim with classes and business cards. that simply isn't so. let's start with the interesting stuff; enter senseless interpersonal drama. i was intending to drive senor ayala and karen down to florida this weekend, but threw in the towel one week ago citing scheduling conflicts. now i have no business in florida, unlike their disney internships, so the original motivation was that we'd all be in the same car cruising along for 20 hours and having a gay ol' time. then came the suggestions of an extra car, and splitting the three of us up, and possibly bringing along another person with no business in florida. by this point, the bubble of idealism had popped, there was no longer a 'fun' reason to be going, and i elected to uphold other various commitments made for the past weekend. senor ayala, the nice chap that he is, willingly stood by and listened to karen curse me out in all matters and means in a phone call made last monday. the offices of jmikola were unavailable for comment; however, we do have confirmation that she's safely arrived in the orlando area, so all praise be to allah. as for ayala, he decided last minute to back out of the internship and stay at home for the semester for some personal reasons, which unfortunately means my plan to avoid applebee's for four months failed before it began.

moving on to other topics of amusement, i enlisted the fashion consultant services of ayala last weekend to enhance my wardrobe with a day-long shopping trip. slowly but surely, i'll ween myself off of 36-inch wide raver pants and bondage straps. although, i am reminded that new clothes are only half of the equation; i still have to put in a serious effort to get in shape. sadly, this cannot be solved with something so very simple as anorexia. god forbid, but i may have to start exercising (egads).

saturday night, i accompanied a certain mike krupnick on a trip home to south jersey. pgengler and gene trog, the most uber-est, 1337-est d00d on the block, were in attendance, and it was one of those nights that make the fraternity thing worthwhile. it had nothing to do with the frat, just a handful of guys out for a drive, talking about all the ways i'm going to get arrested in the next year. at some point, before or after visiting the local tavern, the following conversation took place:

mkrupnic: if we keep going straight, we'll get there...
jmikola: that's how i ended up a homosexual

as much as i may like to confuse andrew numa (p lem dude) about my position on the mcgreevy-meter, i'm quite sure the above statement was nothing more than conversational humor. and while i'm not one to condone, i'm a good distance away from the notorious bigotry of george "would you like to buy a vowel" grzyb. but honestly, this explanation serves little purpose. google will simply cache the preceeding phrase, ignore this article, and return my page for a search on "homosexual fashion consultants." so back to that local tavern. i was treated to an irish car bomb, which, in agreement with prior reports, tasted very much like chocolate milk. at the time, i was unaware of the curdling action, and had wrongfully elected to finish the remainder of gene's car bomb, minutes after it had been poured. closing comments? it's been added to my list of things to order when at rogos.

this update will now end abruptly so that i may score some sleep hours. i apoglize for the inconvenience; i'll pick things up in another 23 days... or sooner, for you optimists out there.


undeserved car insurance rates

l0cke updated. i've been waiting for 14 months. thank you mr. josh gainsbrugh. i haven't touched my wacom in months. i was sitting in my software architecture class monday trying to stay awake, and began doodling on a piece of paper. naturally, it took a considerable amount of time to even think of something to draw. the end result was wasted ink, in my opinion. the following day, tuesday, i was sitting with amit in rogo's waiting for the cutest waitress on willow ave to bring us our wings. we discussed the gabe rule: draw every day, no matter what. of course, we all know the gabe rule, but seldom to we practice it. i have empty sketchbooks/drives i should be filling with art. religion and art would appear to have some parallels.

picking things up from rogo's, i tried my first pint of harp lager that night. i'm looking forward to sampling a black and tan on my next visit. monday's birthday would be a good time to do so... in moderation. i've already assured greg that there will be no sloshing of any kind. i was at tom's 21st last friday, and i have no desire to be the focus of such malarkey. although, i have no objections to being a guest at such events, especially when absinth is being delivered down a block of carved ice straight directly from the czech republic. the 5am drive home from that party had be lost somewhere in long island, where my only source of direction was the rising sun in my rear-view mirror. thankfully, all roads lead to the queens midtown tunnel.

more entertainment: ayala and i watched harold and kumar the night it came out (probably about two weeks ago). like countless others, we enjoyed the movie and vowed that night to hit up a white castle. like a few other people, we eventually found out that there was no white castle in cherry hill, new jersey. like two fools acting on a whim, we chose the farthest white castle in new jersey and set out for a road trip. we blazed down the turnpike (aka i-95, 95 as in mph. j/k, but seriously folks) to tom's river, finally arriving around 2:45 am. i'm dunno if it was the sheer number of energy drinks we had been guzzling on the drive down, but we came nowhere close to finishing that 30-burger crave case. i don't remember much about the drive back up to passaic, and to the best of my knowledge, i slept in that saturday morning.

i do recall promising him i'd post an update on that road trip as soon as i got home. he even agreed to write an entry on it, and i was going to try out my backend's support for multiple authors. indeed, that was the plan. then i found the following:

[jmikola@pluto admin]$ cat .htpasswd
[jmikola@pluto admin]$ cat .htgroup
admin: jmikola hacker
[jmikola@pluto admin]$

a well-placed "wtf" could not even properly express what i was thinking when i saw that... an extra account lying hidden in my backend's authentication files. i immediately fired an instant message to demarco somewhere along the lines of "wtf. wtf? wtf!" i saved a log of my ssh session in a file called wtf.txt. when i gave thought to the fact that i could think of nothing more to say than "wtf", i angrily questioned, "wtf not?" wtf proved the limit of my expression. such is the nature of profanity. it is a useless device which has so saturated our society that it has no effect when used as an authentic tool for expressing angst. this can easily be proven by observing a verbal clash between two young females of dominican descent. being an alumnus of an urban, public school, i can attest to having witnessed such clashes, and i must say that they're equally asinine and highfalutin, with a dash of borderline hilarious. i hereby conclude that words are stupid. qed.

but i digress. the password thing put my in a bit of a tizzy and i went to sleep. paul confessed the following day that he had made the account some months ago after needing to log into my backend and steal its web layout. furthermore, he was quite amused that it took me so long to find it. i closed his im window and did not speak to him again that day. by the time this all resolved, my attention span had expired and i gave up writing that update, much less making ayala an account. he came to sleep over the following week, but i remember so few details because these kind of visits of become (a) so frequent and (b) so fruitless. it's probably safe to say that (a) implies (b), which goes to say: ¬b ∧ a.

i've been downright confused about the concept of friends as of late. quantitatively, there's people who've put up with me long enough to deserve that title, but these are some of the people i'm either purposely or naturally withdrawing from (ending a sentence with a preposition. tsk, tsk). it wouldn't be farfetched to extend this to family members as well. i can have a good time with someone, but it stops there. there's no mutual character development or betterment. it's just two idiots having a good time. likewise, i can share blood with someone and feel no relation to them, nor have any interest in developing that relation. to honestly evaluate myself at this point, i'd reason that i need persons to be accountable to. i'm not saying this under the pretense of desiring to better myself to a point where i won't need an accountability figure; it's nice to have goals but it's nicer to be realistic. the root of my dilemma goes back to morals, purpose, and other private matters that have no place being discussed in a public forum. needless to say, i'm currently living in a glass house, trying to hide from people in the corners. whatever that means.

before the summer ends and he goes back to texas, i'd like to have mentioned (in moderate detail) my 'other' roommate for the summer, steve. contrary to the definitive nature of greg's caucasianality, and to the nature of the word caucasianality itself, steve is chinese. the nature of his stay in room three has to do with some internship he has in new york. but every week or so, steve invites one or more friends from texas to come and stay a night (or two) between their travels along the eastern seaboard, for whatever their respective reasons (e.g. drug trafficking). i don't recall all of their names, but carlos was a swell guy. we played a few hands of magic together, and steve joined in for a round. at one point, i woke up on a saturday afternoon to find steve's parents below my bed. i said hello, we exchanged mutual apologies, and i went back to bed. yet, i must confess that yesterday's visitor took the cake. mandy (granted, that may very well be nothing more than her pseudonym) arrived in the black of night and left in the light of morning. she will henceforth be impressed upon my mind as the girl who was sitting cross-legged on our kitchen counter while talking to steve, who was in his bathrobe and drinking milk from a coffee mug. that was all i saw of her.

i only recently found out that steve is no older than myself, a senior in college come fall. he was introduced to me in june as a friend of our frat's alumni, so i merely assumed him to be in their age bracket of early to mid-twenties. his physical appearance obviously gave no insight to his real age, him being asian and all. while that may sound like a blatant stereotype, steve sympathized with me when i broke down and said, "well, you all look so young," when trying to guess his age. and, i mean, it's not just steve i'm talking about. the asian dude from harold and kumar, john cho, is freakin' 32. pardon the pun in the following segue, but this current train of thought has nothing to do with the price of tea in china, so i'm just going to move on from here.

somewhere in new brunswick, within the rutgers campus and a hundred yards from the alpha sig chapter there, are the grease trucks. tonight, i had a cheese steak stuffed with french fries, chicken tenders, and mozzarella sticks (net cost: $4.50, no tax... unbelievable). on the drive home, my chest felt like styrofoam was rubbing against my lungs. while this meal was undoubtedly a poor choice nutritionally, it remains to be seen if it was a worse choice than the entire medium deep dish domino's pizza i had for lunch. suffice to say, i've been reneging on my anorexic one-meal-a-day policy, and it feels great. i'm indulging in all sorts of tasty treats, and wasting more money than ever before. and the cost of such gluttony: i can never again enter a swimming pool in the precense of a third party.

[insert 5 hour road trip around northern new jersey with mike bianchi]

i used my secret agent h4x0r (and/or 5cr1p7 k1dd13) skills to infiltrate the cpa dorms and deploy myself directly into bianchi's room. i woke the poor bugger up and dragged him off to ihop. we could have hit up the ihop in union city, a scant 5 minutes from hoboken, but i insisted on a 25 minute drive through rush hour traffic back to my hometown. at approximately 9:17 am, over a cup of coffee, i attempted to use the word legitimicize in conversation. if i had gotten any sleep at all last night, i might be able to remember the context of its usage, but... right. i then lead a blind journey through wayne and neighboring townships in search of a comic/card shop. i regret to report that top draft, an old hangout of my middle school era white posse, is now a hair salon. my voyage ended at zapp comics. in hindsight, $64 was clearly an impulse buy. the cost of such stupidity: $20 in burned fuel, overdue research, and a sleepy thursday.

more textual dribble will continue tomorrow, or saturday... or 23 days from now. there's homework to complete, koreans to dream about, and things to pray about. i part with an email transcript, which bloom (@see 138) sent to all four of us in his theory of algorithms class. the man's sheer genius, coupled with unintended comic relief, baffles me.

re: assignment3 path compression

it seems no one used path compression: when executing findset[x] to find the root, r, of the tree containing x, you should change the value of parent[y] to r, for each y found on the path from x up to r.

i won't take off for this egregious lapse, since i was successful in spelling 'egregious'.



I feel obliged to mention that Google has now archived that .htpasswd output, thus giving the entire script kiddie community (of which Jeremy is part) the ability to see (and attempt to crack) said information.