Green Day y U2 nos cuentan lo que les hubiese gustado que pasase. Tener el ejercito más poderoso del mundo debería servir para hacer cosas así.
31 de octubre de 2006
Goggles: The Google Maps Flight Sim
Parece que no paran de aparecer todo tipo de inventos alrededor de Google Earth, los últimos edificios en 3D que he visto son impresionantes
Goggles: The Google Maps Flight Sim
Via email
Goggles: The Google Maps Flight Sim
Via email
Rubik's Cube Solver
Me acaban de enviar un enlace a un programa que me ha hecho mucha gracia: le describes el estado de tu Rubik y te lista los pasos para resolverlo....
Rubik Cube Solver
Via email
Rubik Cube Solver
Via email
30 de octubre de 2006
27 de octubre de 2006
26 de octubre de 2006
25 de octubre de 2006
24 de octubre de 2006
Como evitar que te roben la moto?
Hasta ahora ha sido facil, pero creo que voy a echar de menos South Ken
Goldberg variations
Glen Gould tocando las variaciones Goldberg de J.S. Bach. Quien me lo ha enviado lo describe como Una de las cimas de la historia de la música
Via email
Via email
22 de octubre de 2006
21 de octubre de 2006
Dear Cretins...
I have been an NTL customer since 9th July 2001, when I signed up for your 3-in-one deal for cable TV, cable modem, and telephone. During this three-month period I have encountered inadequacy of service which I had not previously considered possible, as well as ignorance and stupidity of monolithic proportions. Please allow me to provide specific details, so that you can either pursue your professional perogative, and seek to rectify these difficulties - or more likely (I suspect) so that you can have some entertaining reading material as you while away the working day smoking B&H and drinking vendor-coffee on the bog in your office: My initial installation was cancelled without warning, resulting in my spending an entire Saturday sitting on my fat arse waiting for your technician to arrive. When he did not arrive, I spent a further 57 minutes listening to your infuriating hold music, and the even more annoying Scottish robot woman telling me to look at your helpful website....HOW? I alleviated the boredom by playing with my testicles for a few minutes - an activity at which you are no-doubt both familiar and highly adept.
The rescheduled installation then took place some two weeks later, although the technician did forget to bring a number of vital tools - such as a drill-bit, and his cerebrum. Two weeks later, my cable modem had still not arrived. After 15 telephone calls over 4 weeks my modem arrived... six weeks after I had requested it, and begun to pay for it. I estimate your internet server's downtime is roughly 35%... hours between about 6pm -midnight, Mon-Fri, and most of the weekend. I am still waiting for my telephone connection. I have made 9 calls on my mobile to your no-help line, and have been unhelpfully transferred to a variety of disinterested individuals, who are it seems also highly skilled bollock jugglers. I have been informed that a telephone line is available (and someone will call me back); that no telephone line is available (and someone will call me back); that I will be transferred to someone who knows whether or not a telephone line is available (and then been cut off); that I will be transferred to someone (and then been redirected to an answer machine informing me that your office is closed); that I will be transferred to someone and then been redirected to the irritating Scottish robot woman...and several other variations on this theme.
Doubtless you are no longer reading this letter, as you have at least a thousand other dissatisfied customers to ignore, and also another one of those crucially important testicle-moments to attend to. Frankly I don't care, it's far more satisfying as a customer to voice my frustration's in print than to shout them at your unending hold music. Forgive me, therefore, if I continue.
I thought BT were shit, that they had attained the holy piss-pot of godawful customer relations, that no-one, anywhere, ever, could be more disinterested, less helpful or more obstructive to delivering service to their customers. That's why I chose NTL, and because, well, there isn't anyone else is there? How surprised I therefore was, when I discovered to my considerable dissatisfaction and disappointment what a useless shower of bastards you truly are. You are sputum-filled pieces of distended rectum incompetents of the highest order. British Telecom - wankers though they are - shine like brilliant beacons of success, in the filthy puss-filled mire of your seemingly limitless inadequacy. Suffice to say that I have now given up on my futile and foolhardy quest to receive any kind of service from you. I suggest that you cease any potential future attempts to extort payment from me for the services which you have so pointedly and catastrophically failed to deliver - any such activity will be greeted initially with hilarity and disbelief quickly be replaced by derision, and even perhaps bemused rage. I enclose two small deposits, selected with great care from my cats litter tray, as an expression of my utter and complete contempt for both you and your pointless company. I sincerely hope that they have not become desiccated during transit - they were satisfyingly moist at the time of posting, and I would feel considerable disappointment if you did not experience both their rich aroma and delicate texture. Consider them the very embodiment of my feelings towards NTL, and its worthless employees.
Have a nice day - may it be the last in you miserable short life, you irritatingly incompetent and infuriatingly unhelpful bunch of twats.
John
Via email
The rescheduled installation then took place some two weeks later, although the technician did forget to bring a number of vital tools - such as a drill-bit, and his cerebrum. Two weeks later, my cable modem had still not arrived. After 15 telephone calls over 4 weeks my modem arrived... six weeks after I had requested it, and begun to pay for it. I estimate your internet server's downtime is roughly 35%... hours between about 6pm -midnight, Mon-Fri, and most of the weekend. I am still waiting for my telephone connection. I have made 9 calls on my mobile to your no-help line, and have been unhelpfully transferred to a variety of disinterested individuals, who are it seems also highly skilled bollock jugglers. I have been informed that a telephone line is available (and someone will call me back); that no telephone line is available (and someone will call me back); that I will be transferred to someone who knows whether or not a telephone line is available (and then been cut off); that I will be transferred to someone (and then been redirected to an answer machine informing me that your office is closed); that I will be transferred to someone and then been redirected to the irritating Scottish robot woman...and several other variations on this theme.
Doubtless you are no longer reading this letter, as you have at least a thousand other dissatisfied customers to ignore, and also another one of those crucially important testicle-moments to attend to. Frankly I don't care, it's far more satisfying as a customer to voice my frustration's in print than to shout them at your unending hold music. Forgive me, therefore, if I continue.
I thought BT were shit, that they had attained the holy piss-pot of godawful customer relations, that no-one, anywhere, ever, could be more disinterested, less helpful or more obstructive to delivering service to their customers. That's why I chose NTL, and because, well, there isn't anyone else is there? How surprised I therefore was, when I discovered to my considerable dissatisfaction and disappointment what a useless shower of bastards you truly are. You are sputum-filled pieces of distended rectum incompetents of the highest order. British Telecom - wankers though they are - shine like brilliant beacons of success, in the filthy puss-filled mire of your seemingly limitless inadequacy. Suffice to say that I have now given up on my futile and foolhardy quest to receive any kind of service from you. I suggest that you cease any potential future attempts to extort payment from me for the services which you have so pointedly and catastrophically failed to deliver - any such activity will be greeted initially with hilarity and disbelief quickly be replaced by derision, and even perhaps bemused rage. I enclose two small deposits, selected with great care from my cats litter tray, as an expression of my utter and complete contempt for both you and your pointless company. I sincerely hope that they have not become desiccated during transit - they were satisfyingly moist at the time of posting, and I would feel considerable disappointment if you did not experience both their rich aroma and delicate texture. Consider them the very embodiment of my feelings towards NTL, and its worthless employees.
Have a nice day - may it be the last in you miserable short life, you irritatingly incompetent and infuriatingly unhelpful bunch of twats.
John
Via email
20 de octubre de 2006
25 años de casados
Después de estar casados durante 25 años, un día miré a mi esposa y le dije:
- Querida, ¿Te das cuenta que hace 25 años yo tenía un apartamento barato, un coche barato, dormía en un sofá cama barato, tenía una televisión de 10 pulgadas en blanco y negro, pero dormía todas las noches con una despampanante rubia de 25 años?
Ahora tengo una hermosa casa, un coche último modelo, una cama grande, un televisor enorme de plasma, pero duermo todas las noches con una mujer de 50 años con un poco de sobrepeso.
Mi esposa, una persona muy razonable, me dijo:
- "Mi amor, sal y busca una despampanante rubia de 25 años, súper delgada para que te acuestes con ella y yo me aseguraré de que vuelvas a vivir en un apartamento barato, tengas un coche barato y duermas en un sofá cama barato, para que no extrañes esos "buenos y viejos tiempos" ...
Bueno, entonces me callé y saqué la basura....
Via email
- Querida, ¿Te das cuenta que hace 25 años yo tenía un apartamento barato, un coche barato, dormía en un sofá cama barato, tenía una televisión de 10 pulgadas en blanco y negro, pero dormía todas las noches con una despampanante rubia de 25 años?
Ahora tengo una hermosa casa, un coche último modelo, una cama grande, un televisor enorme de plasma, pero duermo todas las noches con una mujer de 50 años con un poco de sobrepeso.
Mi esposa, una persona muy razonable, me dijo:
- "Mi amor, sal y busca una despampanante rubia de 25 años, súper delgada para que te acuestes con ella y yo me aseguraré de que vuelvas a vivir en un apartamento barato, tengas un coche barato y duermas en un sofá cama barato, para que no extrañes esos "buenos y viejos tiempos" ...
Bueno, entonces me callé y saqué la basura....
Via email
19 de octubre de 2006
18 de octubre de 2006
When is a rock not a rock?
Hace ya un par de meses que volar desde Inglaterra es un cancer, victoria por la que debemos felicitar a los terroristas (ni siquiera se acercaron a un aeropuerto pero muchos llevamos perdiendo una hora adicional en los chequeos desde entonces). Por no revisar mis desventuras una a una comento la última: El jueves pasado a un amigo le quitaron la colonia que le había regalado su madre por navidad, sin duda un peligro para la seguridad pública, pero yo me sentí muy orgulloso de haber conseguido colar mi líquido de lentillas y un mechero a bordo, un minipunto en la lucha por nuestros derechos fundamentales que debería ser la base de nuestra política "antiterrorista"
Bueno, a lo que iba. Acabo de retomar la costumbre de leer alguna historia sobre lo malo que es volar antes de ir al aeropuerto, habito que me permite gestionar expectativas y tomarmelo con filosofía. En el blog teneis varios posts al respecto, aprovecho para recomendar de nuevo mi libro favorito de Mintzberg, Tales from the Tormented traveler. El miercoles pasado mi amigo y yo volvimos a nuestra infancia con la moto de Chuck Norris en Delta Force, (BTW necesito instalar unos lanzacohetes de esos en mi Sachs) hoy lo mejor que he encontrado es este artículo (creo que llegué a él a traves del blog de Schneir pero no me acuerdo)
Enjoy
When is a rock not a rock? When you pass through airport security. Then it becomes a potential weapon, one capable of bringing an airplane down.
I'm mad. I can think of a better way to combat terrorism than taking mineral specimens away from geologists traveling to their conferences. I suggest we get U.S. forces out of Iraq, where our blundering entry and lingering occupation are inflaming anti-American sentiment throughout the world.
There are two versions of what happened to my specimen at Bradley International Airport, Hartford. In the first version, I was completely at fault. Out of ignorance, I broke some unwritten rule. Then, in the name of homeland security, the Transportation Security Administration took my rock away.
In the second version, the federal government is at fault for not listing mineral specimens as prohibited items and for creating a climate so fearful of terrorism that it's compromising our economic efficiency, personal freedom and instinct to trust one another.
I was traveling to Hood River, Ore., to attend the annual meeting of the Stone Foundation, an international organization of architects, sculptors, stonemasons, geologists, engravers and engineers united by their love of stone.
To enhance my speech, I nestled one of my favorite specimens between my underwear and shirts in a carry-on bag because I never check luggage on business trips. My banded chunk of the Hebron Gneiss (pronounced "nice") resembled a broken slice of layer cake composed of licorice and cream cheese.
In retrospect, I suppose I could have put the grapefruit-sized specimen inside my sock, swung it around my head like a mace, charged the cabin and attempted to hijack the flight. This, of course, never occurred to me until the zealous inspector declared my rock a "dual-use" item.
"What, pray tell, is a dual-use item?" I asked. I'm afraid I chucked just a little, causing her to glare, withhold a satisfactory answer and call her supervisor. He hefted my rock, scrutinized it for a moment, and agreed that my specimen was indeed a dual-use item, meaning a potential low-tech weapon. During those uneasy moments when I thought I would be detained, I wondered if a doctor's stethoscope would also be declared a dual-use item, since it could be used to strangle a pilot.
The inspectors did give me the option of returning to the ticket counter to check my specimen as baggage. However, having waited more than half an hour for my security clearance, I decided that I didn't have enough time. "Can I claim the rock when I return?" I asked. Their answer, a resounding "no," forced me to choose between possibly missing my flight, and abandoning my rock forever.
I capitulated, surrendering it to that great unmarked graveyard where confiscated items will spend eternity. If rocks had feelings, my beautiful specimen would have been crying as it was hauled away.
My gneiss was not without sentimental value. It has been my traveling companion for three years, and a touchstone for thousands of people who have attended my talks. And though my rock is gone for good, what worries me is that some analyst - perplexed by the usual nature of my dual-use object - will write a report to be sent up the bureaucratic food chain.
Who knows? Perhaps your tax dollars will be used by an internal think tank of agency hire-ups to ponder why on earth a geologist would travel with a rock. Who knows? Perhaps the government will wiretap my phone or check my library records to see whether I have checked out a Koran or a book about stone-age warfare.
I'm a middle-aged, balding, blond and blue-eyed Scandinavian-American. If the gauntlet of untrusting looks at airport security intimidates me, then how much worse would it be for an Arab American? Would the threshold weight for rock confiscation be lower?
After my conference, I brought back a specimen of rhyolitic ignimbrite (welded volcanic ash) to mitigate the loss of my nice gneiss. This time, I took no chances. I put it in my carry-on bag and checked it as luggage to ensure that my new rock would make it home, which it did.
What's next for airport screening? My dual-use laptop?
Robert M. Thorson is a professor of geology at the University of Connecticut and a member of The Courant's Place Board of Contributors. His column appears every Thursday. He can be reached at profthorson@hotmail.com.
Artículo en Conneticut Opinion
E-mail: robert.thorson@uconn.edu
Bueno, a lo que iba. Acabo de retomar la costumbre de leer alguna historia sobre lo malo que es volar antes de ir al aeropuerto, habito que me permite gestionar expectativas y tomarmelo con filosofía. En el blog teneis varios posts al respecto, aprovecho para recomendar de nuevo mi libro favorito de Mintzberg, Tales from the Tormented traveler. El miercoles pasado mi amigo y yo volvimos a nuestra infancia con la moto de Chuck Norris en Delta Force, (BTW necesito instalar unos lanzacohetes de esos en mi Sachs) hoy lo mejor que he encontrado es este artículo (creo que llegué a él a traves del blog de Schneir pero no me acuerdo)
Enjoy
When is a rock not a rock? When you pass through airport security. Then it becomes a potential weapon, one capable of bringing an airplane down.
I'm mad. I can think of a better way to combat terrorism than taking mineral specimens away from geologists traveling to their conferences. I suggest we get U.S. forces out of Iraq, where our blundering entry and lingering occupation are inflaming anti-American sentiment throughout the world.
There are two versions of what happened to my specimen at Bradley International Airport, Hartford. In the first version, I was completely at fault. Out of ignorance, I broke some unwritten rule. Then, in the name of homeland security, the Transportation Security Administration took my rock away.
In the second version, the federal government is at fault for not listing mineral specimens as prohibited items and for creating a climate so fearful of terrorism that it's compromising our economic efficiency, personal freedom and instinct to trust one another.
I was traveling to Hood River, Ore., to attend the annual meeting of the Stone Foundation, an international organization of architects, sculptors, stonemasons, geologists, engravers and engineers united by their love of stone.
To enhance my speech, I nestled one of my favorite specimens between my underwear and shirts in a carry-on bag because I never check luggage on business trips. My banded chunk of the Hebron Gneiss (pronounced "nice") resembled a broken slice of layer cake composed of licorice and cream cheese.
In retrospect, I suppose I could have put the grapefruit-sized specimen inside my sock, swung it around my head like a mace, charged the cabin and attempted to hijack the flight. This, of course, never occurred to me until the zealous inspector declared my rock a "dual-use" item.
"What, pray tell, is a dual-use item?" I asked. I'm afraid I chucked just a little, causing her to glare, withhold a satisfactory answer and call her supervisor. He hefted my rock, scrutinized it for a moment, and agreed that my specimen was indeed a dual-use item, meaning a potential low-tech weapon. During those uneasy moments when I thought I would be detained, I wondered if a doctor's stethoscope would also be declared a dual-use item, since it could be used to strangle a pilot.
The inspectors did give me the option of returning to the ticket counter to check my specimen as baggage. However, having waited more than half an hour for my security clearance, I decided that I didn't have enough time. "Can I claim the rock when I return?" I asked. Their answer, a resounding "no," forced me to choose between possibly missing my flight, and abandoning my rock forever.
I capitulated, surrendering it to that great unmarked graveyard where confiscated items will spend eternity. If rocks had feelings, my beautiful specimen would have been crying as it was hauled away.
My gneiss was not without sentimental value. It has been my traveling companion for three years, and a touchstone for thousands of people who have attended my talks. And though my rock is gone for good, what worries me is that some analyst - perplexed by the usual nature of my dual-use object - will write a report to be sent up the bureaucratic food chain.
Who knows? Perhaps your tax dollars will be used by an internal think tank of agency hire-ups to ponder why on earth a geologist would travel with a rock. Who knows? Perhaps the government will wiretap my phone or check my library records to see whether I have checked out a Koran or a book about stone-age warfare.
I'm a middle-aged, balding, blond and blue-eyed Scandinavian-American. If the gauntlet of untrusting looks at airport security intimidates me, then how much worse would it be for an Arab American? Would the threshold weight for rock confiscation be lower?
After my conference, I brought back a specimen of rhyolitic ignimbrite (welded volcanic ash) to mitigate the loss of my nice gneiss. This time, I took no chances. I put it in my carry-on bag and checked it as luggage to ensure that my new rock would make it home, which it did.
What's next for airport screening? My dual-use laptop?
Robert M. Thorson is a professor of geology at the University of Connecticut and a member of The Courant's Place Board of Contributors. His column appears every Thursday. He can be reached at profthorson@hotmail.com.
Artículo en Conneticut Opinion
E-mail: robert.thorson@uconn.edu
16 de octubre de 2006
Si la humanidad desapareciera
* Inmediatamente: La mayoría de las especies en peligro empezarían a recuperarse.
* 24-48 horas: La contaminación lumínica se acabaría.
* 3 meses: La polución atmosférica (nitrógeno y óxidos de azufre) se va reduciendo.
* En 10 años: Desaparecería el metano de la atmósfera.
* En 20 años: Las carreteras rurales y pueblos quedarían cubiertos por la vegetación. Desaparecen las cosechas genéticamente modificadas.
* En 50 años: Se recupera la población de especies marinas. Desaparecen los nitratos y fosfatos del agua.
* Entre 50 y 100 años: Las calles y edificios de las ciudades quedan cubiertos por la vegetación.
* 100 años: Los edificios de madera se desmoronan.
* 100 a 200 años: Los puentes se caen.
* En 200 años: Los edificios de metal y cristal se desmoronan; el cinturón de grano de los Estados Unidos vuelve a ser una pradera.
* En 250 años: Las presas se derrumban.
* En 500 años: Los corales se regeneran.
* Entre 500 y 1.000 años: la mayoría del contenido orgánico de los vertederos se descompone.
* 1.000 años: La mayoría de los edificios de ladrillo, piedra y cemento han desaparecido; el dióxido de carbono en la atmósfera vuelve a sus niveles pre-industriales.
* 50.000 años: La mayoría de los plásticos y cristales se descomponen.
* Después de 50.000 años la existencia de la humanidad queda marcada básicamente por sólo algunos restos arqueológicos…
* Pero algunos productos químicos fabricados por el hombre sólo desaparecerían después de 200.000 años y la basura radiactiva puede seguir siendo mortal durante hasta dos millones de años.
Visto en Microsiervos
* 24-48 horas: La contaminación lumínica se acabaría.
* 3 meses: La polución atmosférica (nitrógeno y óxidos de azufre) se va reduciendo.
* En 10 años: Desaparecería el metano de la atmósfera.
* En 20 años: Las carreteras rurales y pueblos quedarían cubiertos por la vegetación. Desaparecen las cosechas genéticamente modificadas.
* En 50 años: Se recupera la población de especies marinas. Desaparecen los nitratos y fosfatos del agua.
* Entre 50 y 100 años: Las calles y edificios de las ciudades quedan cubiertos por la vegetación.
* 100 años: Los edificios de madera se desmoronan.
* 100 a 200 años: Los puentes se caen.
* En 200 años: Los edificios de metal y cristal se desmoronan; el cinturón de grano de los Estados Unidos vuelve a ser una pradera.
* En 250 años: Las presas se derrumban.
* En 500 años: Los corales se regeneran.
* Entre 500 y 1.000 años: la mayoría del contenido orgánico de los vertederos se descompone.
* 1.000 años: La mayoría de los edificios de ladrillo, piedra y cemento han desaparecido; el dióxido de carbono en la atmósfera vuelve a sus niveles pre-industriales.
* 50.000 años: La mayoría de los plásticos y cristales se descomponen.
* Después de 50.000 años la existencia de la humanidad queda marcada básicamente por sólo algunos restos arqueológicos…
* Pero algunos productos químicos fabricados por el hombre sólo desaparecerían después de 200.000 años y la basura radiactiva puede seguir siendo mortal durante hasta dos millones de años.
Visto en Microsiervos
Domino de discos duros
No tengo tiempo de ponerme a bucear en busqueda de los varios post sobre discos duros pero creo este merece un puesto en la colección
Via email
Post en Xataca
Via email
Post en Xataca
11 de octubre de 2006
Google eclipses its rivals again with YouTube acquisition
Pues si GoogleVideos no es lo que queríamos, cargamos 1.65b$ a la visa y nos compramos youtube.
¿Esta gente no descansa nunca?
Espero ansioso a ver cómo los integran
¿Esta gente no descansa nunca?
Espero ansioso a ver cómo los integran
6 de octubre de 2006
4 de octubre de 2006
Cocinar un huevo con la radiación del móvil...
Ojito a lo que me han enviado por mail, a ver si este finde tengo un rato para hacer el experimento...
Cocinar un huevo con la radiación del móvil...
Necesitamos:
•1 huevo
•2 móviles
•65 minutos para llamar de un teléfono a otro.
Montamos algo parecido a lo de la imagen:
Iniciamos una llamada entre los 2 móviles y los dejamos 65 minutos aproximadamente...
Los primeros 15 minutos no pasa nada......
A los 25 minutos el huevo comienza a calentarse....
A los 45 ya esta caliente.....
Y a los 65 ya estará cocinado
Conclusión: La radiación emitida por los móviles es capaz de modificar las proteínas del huevo... imagínate que puede hacer con las proteínas de cerebro cuando hablamos por él.
Cocinar un huevo con la radiación del móvil...
Necesitamos:
•1 huevo
•2 móviles
•65 minutos para llamar de un teléfono a otro.
Montamos algo parecido a lo de la imagen:
Iniciamos una llamada entre los 2 móviles y los dejamos 65 minutos aproximadamente...
Los primeros 15 minutos no pasa nada......
A los 25 minutos el huevo comienza a calentarse....
A los 45 ya esta caliente.....
Y a los 65 ya estará cocinado
Conclusión: La radiación emitida por los móviles es capaz de modificar las proteínas del huevo... imagínate que puede hacer con las proteínas de cerebro cuando hablamos por él.
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