Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Spondylosis Play Guitar
Logicomix (1): Bad and good news.
Logicomix read. I saw him yesterday at the bookstore and I endured. I was not disappointed but not surprised me. It is a book well done, has an interesting structure, play at various levels, attempts to explore themes that are usually neglected in literature and does so in a polite way, say. The crisis of the foundations of mathematics is a great story, full of interesting characters, all with huge egos, which they embarked, each in its own way the task of solving a problem that had been around forever but everyone had overlooked: what are the foundations that support math standing? Are they solid? Are they resilient? "There!? For a long time, no one doubted the strength of the system. This is what happens when things go and bear fruit: it creates trust in tradition and over time that trust is confused with the certainty that nothing can happen and everything will remain as it always has been. It is assumed that the crisis was a product of non-Euclidean geometries but others say the work (great) of Cantor on the nature of infinity also contributed. I think it was something had to happen sooner rather than later. When in a game of Jenga tower doubt grows too is inevitable: there is something down? In the late 19 had sufficient overlapping pieces (enough geometry, algebra enough, enough analysis) to start looking down gently and make sure there is more than air. Something that I really liked the Logicomix is that manages to convey how the journey from Hilbert's problems to the incompleteness theorem was a feat which concluded initially caused great consternation among the protagonists. For a moment the epic drama morphed into tragedy. Many were defeated. Many understand the results Gödel as an unacceptable failure prevented us regain confidence in the old toy. However this did not happen. Gödel's theorems, eventually, convinced us that mathematics were not sentenced to automation. That was his true meaning. The theorems are not talking about the inability of the system but about our importance in the game. Mathematics was not a diversion program that could walk away and leave the machines. That was good news. Many great things have happened since then. Logicomix finish, perhaps, too soon. 
Logicomix read. I saw him yesterday at the bookstore and I endured. I was not disappointed but not surprised me. It is a book well done, has an interesting structure, play at various levels, attempts to explore themes that are usually neglected in literature and does so in a polite way, say. The crisis of the foundations of mathematics is a great story, full of interesting characters, all with huge egos, which they embarked, each in its own way the task of solving a problem that had been around forever but everyone had overlooked: what are the foundations that support math standing? Are they solid? Are they resilient? "There!? For a long time, no one doubted the strength of the system. This is what happens when things go and bear fruit: it creates trust in tradition and over time that trust is confused with the certainty that nothing can happen and everything will remain as it always has been. It is assumed that the crisis was a product of non-Euclidean geometries but others say the work (great) of Cantor on the nature of infinity also contributed. I think it was something had to happen sooner rather than later. When in a game of Jenga tower doubt grows too is inevitable: there is something down? In the late 19 had sufficient overlapping pieces (enough geometry, algebra enough, enough analysis) to start looking down gently and make sure there is more than air. Something that I really liked the Logicomix is that manages to convey how the journey from Hilbert's problems to the incompleteness theorem was a feat which concluded initially caused great consternation among the protagonists. For a moment the epic drama morphed into tragedy. Many were defeated. Many understand the results Gödel as an unacceptable failure prevented us regain confidence in the old toy. However this did not happen. Gödel's theorems, eventually, convinced us that mathematics were not sentenced to automation. That was his true meaning. The theorems are not talking about the inability of the system but about our importance in the game. Mathematics was not a diversion program that could walk away and leave the machines. That was good news. Many great things have happened since then. Logicomix finish, perhaps, too soon.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
How To Install Thermostat Honeywell Rth2310
The price of chicken
Following is a phenomenon for which no explanation meeting:
few days ago we went to a big supermarket and supposedly cheaper to make the first major purchase of supplies for the home. For this purpose we set up our shopping we bought at Walmart and walked the twenty minutes that separate us from the supermarket (called No Frills). In our usual list of ingredients never fail chicken breasts because they are versatile. The chicken breast is the tofu of carnivores. Unfortunately, the chicken costing thirteen U.S. dollars a kilo. The price seemed outrageous and not buy. To compensate Portugal got sausage. We did it on Monday with potatoes and apples.
Two days ago we went to Valumart which is two blocks away (but supposedly not as cheap as No Frills) and, out of curiosity, I checked the prices of chicken, still blazed on my honor that price for insulting the other day. Valumart, however, offered a kilo of chicken breast eighteen dollars. I gulped.
sad truth is, I said to Monica, the chicken will become a luxury. The chicken should never be a luxury. Luckily
beef liver is always given. Yesterday we
Valumart to buy the baking powder to make a banana bread. Again we cross the area of meat and again, out of curiosity, I checked chicken prices. Chicken breasts cost seven dollars a kilo. Among surprised and excited to buy fourteen breasts and went into the freezer.
I wonder what the reason for these fluctuations. 
Following is a phenomenon for which no explanation meeting:
few days ago we went to a big supermarket and supposedly cheaper to make the first major purchase of supplies for the home. For this purpose we set up our shopping we bought at Walmart and walked the twenty minutes that separate us from the supermarket (called No Frills). In our usual list of ingredients never fail chicken breasts because they are versatile. The chicken breast is the tofu of carnivores. Unfortunately, the chicken costing thirteen U.S. dollars a kilo. The price seemed outrageous and not buy. To compensate Portugal got sausage. We did it on Monday with potatoes and apples.
Two days ago we went to Valumart which is two blocks away (but supposedly not as cheap as No Frills) and, out of curiosity, I checked the prices of chicken, still blazed on my honor that price for insulting the other day. Valumart, however, offered a kilo of chicken breast eighteen dollars. I gulped.
sad truth is, I said to Monica, the chicken will become a luxury. The chicken should never be a luxury. Luckily
beef liver is always given. Yesterday we
Valumart to buy the baking powder to make a banana bread. Again we cross the area of meat and again, out of curiosity, I checked chicken prices. Chicken breasts cost seven dollars a kilo. Among surprised and excited to buy fourteen breasts and went into the freezer.
I wonder what the reason for these fluctuations.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Low Income Dentist In Tampa
Although Atlas is not a machine built to handle textual materials, he uses the dead hours of the night to get it to print out thousands of lines in the style of Pablo Neruda, using as a lexicon a list of the most powerful words in The Height of Macchu Picchu , in Nathaniel Tarn's translation. He brings the thick wad of paper back to the Royal Hotel and pores over it. 'The nostalgia of teapots.' 'The ardour of shutters.' 'Furious horsemen.' If he cannot, for the present, write poetry that comes from the heart, if his heart is not in the right state to generate poetry of its own, can he at least string together pseudo-poems made up of phrases generated by a machine, and thus, by going through the motions of writing, learn again to write? Is it fair to be using mechanical aids to writing — fair to other poets, fair to the dead masters? The Surrealists wrote words on slips of paper and shook them up in a hat and drew words at random to make up lines. William Burroughs cuts up pages and shuffles them and puts the bits together. Is he not doing the same kind of thing? Or do his huge resources — what other poet in England, in the world, has a machine of this size at his command — turn quantity into quality? Yet might it not be argued that the invention of computers has changed the nature of art, by making the author and the condition of the author's heart irrelevant? On the Third Programme he has heard music from the studios of Radio Cologne, music spliced together from electronic whoops and crackles and street noise and snippets of old recordings and fragments of speech. Is it not time for poetry to catch up with music?
He sends a selection of his Neruda poems to a friend in Cape Town, who publishes them in a magazine he edits. A local newspaper reprints one of the computer poems with a derisive commentary. For a day or two, back in Cape Town, he is notorious as the barbarian who wants to replace Shakespeare with a machine.J.M. Coetzee, Youth
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Terrasil Facial Warts
Gonta
El sábado adoptamos a Gonta. Eight weeks old, about a kilo, innate ability for climbing (of people) and several energy MegaJules. It is also a ninja. Following the narrative tradition of offering ads online abandoned cats, Gonta is the only survivor of a litter of seven that the rescue group found in a dumpster in a bag. Gonta and Pliny, after overcoming their initial territorial disputes, have become brothers and (thus) irreconcilable enemies, despite the mutual hatred, sleep together and embrace each other when nobody is looking. My grandmother, who always hated that my grandfather had dogs, but was she who would take care of them play, tells me to say that I am not fond of them. That is idle beloved animals. Animals to die. What to keep tears for the things that matter. My mom says you never can / should love animals and want to people because people well, are people. I can not believe that anyone could measure and differentiate the love for the things you want depending on the (ephemeral) nature. So far I think I have never failed to give affection. Is it because I want some.
El sábado adoptamos a Gonta. Eight weeks old, about a kilo, innate ability for climbing (of people) and several energy MegaJules. It is also a ninja. Following the narrative tradition of offering ads online abandoned cats, Gonta is the only survivor of a litter of seven that the rescue group found in a dumpster in a bag. Gonta and Pliny, after overcoming their initial territorial disputes, have become brothers and (thus) irreconcilable enemies, despite the mutual hatred, sleep together and embrace each other when nobody is looking. My grandmother, who always hated that my grandfather had dogs, but was she who would take care of them play, tells me to say that I am not fond of them. That is idle beloved animals. Animals to die. What to keep tears for the things that matter. My mom says you never can / should love animals and want to people because people well, are people. I can not believe that anyone could measure and differentiate the love for the things you want depending on the (ephemeral) nature. So far I think I have never failed to give affection. Is it because I want some.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Unknown Number Unknown Name
No
I will say more: dogs should not die because they are machines to give love. While people are mean and selfish, dogs are sincere friends who trust in us and appreciate any gesture of affection that we give. They live for these actions and to reward them handsomely. No one loves us more than a dog who we love. 
I will say more: dogs should not die because they are machines to give love. While people are mean and selfish, dogs are sincere friends who trust in us and appreciate any gesture of affection that we give. They live for these actions and to reward them handsomely. No one loves us more than a dog who we love.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Salon That Does Mens Waxing In Brampton
I wish I had a daughter named Adelaide
few days ago we went downtown to see District 9. After leaving the theater we walked along the Dundas Street east until you reach Adelaide Street. Those who know the city have warned us that we must never cross the Adelaide street because the other side of Adelaide Street, well, bad things happen. Monica was in a bad mood when we left the cinema, so had to walk. The film decompensation a bit, me too. This is one of those films that shows slightly veiled versions of real events whose reality you know or think you know but either way, seeing them on screen, whether in sci-veiled versions, with teasing. It's not because you forget or need to verify this because. The film does not establish anything. The film simply arouses indignation that you always have saved between the ribs, the out of the lethargy and says hey, do you remember?, And indeed the thing between the ribs and hit agree and generates the usual empty the brain turns physical (I'm pretty liberal with the physiological and neural mechanisms here, apologies) in anger or frustration or helplessness, or another one of those things that if he is caught on a bad day do mourn and / or resist the urge to give something solid fists to at least hurt. It's kind of sad to have to watch movies to think about such things.
The walk to the Adelaide street comes to mind because District 9 is a film about segregation. Some say the fundamental reference is the Apartheid, because, of course, is filmed in Johannesburg, but I think District 9 segregation we're talking about more current and perhaps more subtle. Segregation as evidence that our walk to the Adelaide street where, from a certain point, the urban landscape change dramatically and we are no longer in the center of the city to be in a low brick buildings (some sealed, some not) and dinners for breakfast (coffee, bacon, egg, bread) for four dollars and gentlemen left in the street smoking cigarettes and tiny pieces of women in dirty pajamas morbidly obese rabbits littered the sidewalks roll their electric chairs while hugging a giant package of pretzels as his only true friend. Society, like the city, changes across Adelaide. Adelaide is a portal. Half a block to the east is a library mystical red walls and black curtains with pictures of Anton LaVey in the window, and against this library an abandoned shopping center that survives only an outdoor bar filled with shirtless bearded gentlemen. In one corner is a refuge for addicts with a notice board on the door saying that there are no quotas and many people in the front yard stops drinking coffee in paper cups. Barely speak. The area has several used furniture stores. Everything smells like flea market, incubated old dirt and dust, fungus. People look at us in passing. I think we had never felt so outsiders like walking there. Hard to believe it is only twenty minutes from here. 
few days ago we went downtown to see District 9. After leaving the theater we walked along the Dundas Street east until you reach Adelaide Street. Those who know the city have warned us that we must never cross the Adelaide street because the other side of Adelaide Street, well, bad things happen. Monica was in a bad mood when we left the cinema, so had to walk. The film decompensation a bit, me too. This is one of those films that shows slightly veiled versions of real events whose reality you know or think you know but either way, seeing them on screen, whether in sci-veiled versions, with teasing. It's not because you forget or need to verify this because. The film does not establish anything. The film simply arouses indignation that you always have saved between the ribs, the out of the lethargy and says hey, do you remember?, And indeed the thing between the ribs and hit agree and generates the usual empty the brain turns physical (I'm pretty liberal with the physiological and neural mechanisms here, apologies) in anger or frustration or helplessness, or another one of those things that if he is caught on a bad day do mourn and / or resist the urge to give something solid fists to at least hurt. It's kind of sad to have to watch movies to think about such things.
The walk to the Adelaide street comes to mind because District 9 is a film about segregation. Some say the fundamental reference is the Apartheid, because, of course, is filmed in Johannesburg, but I think District 9 segregation we're talking about more current and perhaps more subtle. Segregation as evidence that our walk to the Adelaide street where, from a certain point, the urban landscape change dramatically and we are no longer in the center of the city to be in a low brick buildings (some sealed, some not) and dinners for breakfast (coffee, bacon, egg, bread) for four dollars and gentlemen left in the street smoking cigarettes and tiny pieces of women in dirty pajamas morbidly obese rabbits littered the sidewalks roll their electric chairs while hugging a giant package of pretzels as his only true friend. Society, like the city, changes across Adelaide. Adelaide is a portal. Half a block to the east is a library mystical red walls and black curtains with pictures of Anton LaVey in the window, and against this library an abandoned shopping center that survives only an outdoor bar filled with shirtless bearded gentlemen. In one corner is a refuge for addicts with a notice board on the door saying that there are no quotas and many people in the front yard stops drinking coffee in paper cups. Barely speak. The area has several used furniture stores. Everything smells like flea market, incubated old dirt and dust, fungus. People look at us in passing. I think we had never felt so outsiders like walking there. Hard to believe it is only twenty minutes from here.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
Religious Welcome Greetings
Sometimes I get afraid when you forget you have to talk more simply to me
Build Your Own Wwe Southcharacter Free
Ladies and gentlemen!
You've read about it in the newspapers ! Now, shudder as you observe, before your very eyes , that most rare and tragic of nature's mistakes!
I give you... The average man .
Physically unremarkable , it has instead a deformed set of values.
Notice the hideously bloated sense of humanity's importance . The club footed social conscience and the withered optimism .
It's certainly not for the squeamish , is it?
Most repulsive of all, are its frail and useless notions of order and sanity . If too much weight is placed upon them...
...they snap .
How does it live , I hear you ask?
How does this poor, pathetic specimen survive in today's harsh and irrational world?
The sad answer is "not very well ."
Faced with the inescapable fact that human existence is mad , random and pointless , one in eight of them crack up and go stark slavering buggo !
Who can blame them? In a world as psychotic as this...
...any other response would be crazy !
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