Awesome iTunes Addon
Recently stumbled across this, which does a nice job showing the lyrics of the currently playing song in iTunes on your desktop.
[A Duck]
The night closed in
Upon the withering pen
And as it wrote
It was smote
The tree could do no more
Quick Look CSV
Why doesn’t Quick Look support CSV natively? Oh, well: http://code.google.com/p/quicklook-csv/
iPhone Apps Without Objective C?
This looks interesting: http://building-iphone-apps.labs.oreilly.com/
$50? Really?
$50 is way too much for the Wolfram Alpha iPhone app.
Prowling for Windows Live Mail
I finally had a bit of time off, so I spent a couple hours setting up a small PHP script to query my Windows Live Mail (junk mail) account for new messages and send me a Prowl notification when new mail is received. The script runs as a cron job on my web host and nicely accomplishes the otherwise impossible – since Microsoft still doesn’t provide POP or IMAP access for Windows Live Mail.
A Short, Though Incomplete, Story
A short story written (though not yet completed) by Andrew Ahles, Hannah Chupp, James Frank, and Sarah Yates:
It was not so much a long time ago that my troubles began. In fact, it was relatively recently. But fate has chosen to pile upon me in so short a time as has elapsed so great a number of difficulties that the devastating effect of my recent tribulations on my health is immense. Perhaps it would be prudent to explain the causes of my great trouble, and since I have not the slightest hope of my own personal recovery, I have written this account in the hopes that I may by some miracle render assistance to those who may in future years read my humble story.
Exactly a week ago it began, when I awakened to the sound of the birds chirping outside of my window. ‘Twas a lovely morning, and slowly I strolled to find my morning paper. Lo and behold! My paper was not there, it did not appear to be anywhere. “Perhaps,” I thought to myself, “the paperboy is running a bit late today. I shall sit upon my porch and await his arrival.” However, within a few minutes of sitting down in my rocking chair that swayed backwards and forwards ever so slightly in the wind, my stomach began proclaiming its extreme hunger, demanding that I get up and fill its emptiness.
But when I walked back into my humble abode, I found a sight not pleasing to my eyes. In fact, I found no sight whatsoever. For my kitchen had disappeared! “How odd,” I said to myself. The paper had disappeared. Then my kitchen had. What was next? The sun? Oxygen? My toes? My very soul? The thought disturbed me. It shot its barbed arrows into my heart and latched itself there. It would not let go. I could not shake it free. It had me in its shackles and was taunting me, spitting in my face.
Being the sensible and calm sort of person that I have become since the end of my folly more than a decade ago, I immediately began to think on and consider the strange occurrences which had already greeted me on that innocent morning. However, it seemed that my wits were somewhat slow at the time, for try as I might, I could not piece together a reasonable and logical solution to this conundrum. So of course, I saw had but one choice left. There was an avenue for regaining my wit which had never failed me, a quick and painless trip back to bed to slumber a bit longer. Little did I know what would awaken me when I set myself down to return to sleep.
I had lain in my bed for no more then 5.427 seconds when I heard a thud upon my window. I became quite excited, believing that my paper had at last arrived, and that perhaps I had simply imagined the disappearance of my kitchen. Quickly I put on my slippers and robe, excited at this chance to begin the day anew. However, when I opened my door, the paper was still nowhere to be found. I decided to search my garden, in the hopes that it had bounced at an odd angle off of the window and landed where I would not at all expect it. After searching for over half an hour, my paper was still unaccounted for, so I thought I would check to see if my kitchen had arrived. It still had not, although I now had a wonderful view of a neighboring meadow and the grazing sheep that I had not had before.
It was at that very moment in space and time that I realized the reason I had not seen said meadow before. It simply had not been there. I walked across the street (still clad in my robe and house shoes) and feasted my eyes upon the blooming flowers, the grazing sheep, and the grass waving in the wind. One lamb saw me, and ran bleating back to its mother as if I had been a spectre. Then it dashed back to where I was standing, grabbed my slippers and took them as a trophy to the king of the sheep. King? What was this? Had my mine played tricks on me? Why had I had this thought of a king of the sheep? Why did the imbecilic sheep have a king? Then it occured to me…
This supposed “sheep” was really nothing of the kind. Over the years, I had grown into what some may call a naturalist. I still know not why or how such natural scientific tendencies grew in my fertile mind, but such things are not for me to know. For it were these very tendencies that saved my life. As the small lamb retreated away with my slippers, I noticed a patch of gray fur at the bottom of the sheep’s right posterior limb. At first I thought nothing of it…but then I saw the King. The King, a terrifying king he was. For he was no sheep…but rather a wolf in sheep’s clothing. It was indeed his nose that betrayed his identity. Yet as I turned to run for my life, the disguised wolf spoke to me. This perhaps surprised me above all else, for with words as clear as my former kitchen window, he said…
“Stop, strange creature and hearken to me! Why hast thou entered my domain, frightened my subjects, and given me this gift of soft material apparently used to cover the ends of posterior limbs? Answer me!” I don’t know why I stopped, maybe it was because I was shocked that the sheep/wolf could speak, maybe it was because the sheep/wolf had a very demanding voice, maybe it was because I had not eaten breakfast and thus had not the strength to run. At any rate, I turned and faced the creature and, with a shaky voice said, “I know not why I am here, indeed I do not know where here is. All I want is my paper and my kitchen, if you have those things, please give them back.”
“You strange boy! Whatever has gotten into your head? What is a kitchen, and a paper? You want a sheet of paper? What is so special about a sheet of paper? You are turning out to be much more deranged than I had first expected.” At that I was forced to stare blankly at the sheep king. What was this place? The thought entered my head that I might still be dreaming. Surely that would be the cause of these strange happenings. Quickly I pinched my lower forearm, desperately hoping that I felt nothing. Alas, I pinched myself so hard that I yelped, further startling the creature before me.
Alas, my efforts to wake myself up proved worthless, and I began to lose a little of my normally calm and collected demeanor as I realized that there seemed no way to escape from my present situation. However, I slowly gathered my wits about me and, doing my best to appear calm, asked the great creature before me, “Could you tell me where exactly I am and who you are? For I am very confused and would like to know how I might return to my home.” The creature looked at me strangely for a moment, and then, in a peaceful, almost eerie, tone it said, “I’m am sorry strange friend, I appear to have misjudged you, for you seem to come from a very confusing situation. Allow me to welcome you to this great land of peace and liberty, a land where anyone may live without fear of another ruling their life. You will find that you have no need for such strange pieces of material for your posterior limbs here, so I will do you the honor of destroying your gift to me using paper weights and the assistance of very courteous small squirrels. If you will follow the road through those trees behind you, you will come to a town after about an hours walk, there you will find answers for your troubled soul.” I had a strange feeling of distrust for the wolf, especially since he was disguised as a sheep, and was not altogether pleased with his kind offer to destroy my slippers, but since I had no other way to discover where I was, I heeded his advice and turned to follow the road. As I started for the opening amongst the trees, the wolf cried to me, “God bless you.” Then he turned to leave.
What kind of answers I should find in this town I did not know. And the creature was right, I did not need my slippers. The road was soft and cool to my feet, there was nary a pebble to be found that could stab me in the heel. As I walked, I saw a strange thing: there was a beautiful tall grey mountain that rustled in the wind. Rustled in the wind? “Wait,” I realized, “mountains don’t rustle in the wind.” What could this be? As I got closer I began to realize that this mountain was not a mountain at all, rather an extremely large pile of…newspapers?
Newspapers. Now I knew my mind was playing tricks on me. I wanted my newspaper back and voila! I had now an abundance. Because of my intense human nature, I began to think of other things that I desperately wanted, just as I had desperately wanted my newspaper. My kitchen! And … there was not a mountain of kitchens. Then it occurred to me that I had wished for my newspaper back at my humble abode, and had had to journey far until I reached the mountainous newspapers. It was at that time, the very witching time of night (except for the small detail that it was day), that Ichabod, heavy hearted and bedrooped (or was it crestfallen?) … Actually that is the wrong story. But the point is, I decided I now had to go on a journey – to retrieve my kitchen!
Deciding that I may as well start looking for my kitchen at the town the wolf spoke of, I continued down the road. I took two steps before I realized that as long as there was a mountain of newspapers, I might as well take one. This however, proved harder than I anticipated. I tugged, I jerked, I yanked, I pulled, all to no avail. Finally, I planted my feet, rubbed my hands together, and pulled at the closest paper with all the strength I could muster. SUCCESS!!! I held a morning paper in my hands. Joyously I turned to read the funny pages, but before I read the first panel my world went dark under a flurry of falling newspapers.
Well, now I had definitely had my fill of newspapers. The mountain of newspapers had been quite exciting, even more so when I realized that I had found the specific paper that had eluded me all morning. Now, however, laying in the dark under this incredibly heavy pile of newspapers that greatly labored my breathing, I wondered why the newspaper had been so important to me. Had I not insisted upon pulling that paper out of the mountain of them, I could still be walking down the road looking for the town, and my kitchen that is by far more important than the paper.
I lay there for quite some time. I would like to say I was contemplating the meaning of life but that was quite untrue. In fact of facts, I was in reality sleeping. You see, the newspapers burdened upon me, and caused me to fall into a deep sleep. And there I had the most wondrous dream … I was in a field of green flowers, with orange grass and a fuschia sky. I was greatly disturbed at this, and pinched myself in hopes to wake up, for I knew it was indeed a dream. However, I felt the pain and was greatly even disturbed more. What could it be? And why me? Why hadn’t this happened to my uncle?
The bright colors of this new world were quite dizzying, nauseating in fact. I was beginning to wonder if perhaps someone had spiked my coffee that morning, of course then it occurred to me that no-one had spiked my coffee, because my kitchen had disappeared! Why the disappearance of my kitchen made quite as much sense as it did I am unsure of, but when the sky is bright pink and hanging over you, things that you never would have contemplated before seem like an everyday occurrence.
Since I was dreaming, I was no longer hindered by the newspapers and began to explore this new pink sky dream world. At first, I wondered if perhaps I could have stumbled into a giant girls bedroom, for pink was such a predominant color that it seemed to cover the entire world. Just as I made this conclusion however, the color of the sky, and many other things instantly began to change into a bright flourescant green. Where was I??? What kind of world was this??? What is derivative of 3??? While all these questions were running through my mind I suddenly fell down into a…sink???
“A sink?” thought I. Suddenly, it hit me, this was MY sink! My KITCHEN sink, more specifically.I recognized these pipes, why, there were the cheerios I poured down the drain only yesterday morning, and, ewww, the milk that was now most definitely sour. Oh! That smell! What could it be? Oh, Lou, the goldfish. I suppose I should have listened to my mother and flushed him down the toilet, but the sink seemed so much more humane, until now. Ugh.