Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Matasano Chargen » Blog Archive » Matasano PFI (as seen on TV!)

Security dude's written a Port Forwarding Interceptor that lets you modify a raw TCP stream on the fly. I know it's wrong, but this guy makes me grin. Don't worry, my coat's just here.
Luctus temporalis

Luctus temporalis
One of the things that annoys me about the fact that in all probability I won't live for ever is that it means I won't get to see all the crazy shit those space-age futuristas will come up with. Mostly the time machines. Example: only yesterday, a moment of genuine sadness overcame me when, while warming up some nice thick pea and ham soup, I glanced at my cooker and felt a real pang of regret that I might never be able to pop back to a carefully-tended Palæolithic fireside, wrest a caveman's attention from the dancing shadows cast by its oh-so-hard-won flames, zap him back to my futuristic lair and show him a god-damned GAS HOB. I mean, imagine the look on his face while I'm just standing there, switching it on, and off, and on, and off. Maybe casually scorching some paper, a candle, a sabre-tooth steak; you know, just making the point. On, again; once more, off. And hey! Look! I switched it on again! Yeah! How'd you like them apples, Cavey? He'd go batshit, I'm telling you.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Jacob's Ladder

Jacob's Ladder
Strolling down from Goodge Street towards a restaurant on Rathbone Street, I cut through Charlotte Place and discovered The Blackfoot Butchers, apparently opened in November last year by the team behind The Salt Yard just over the road. Haven't sampled the wares yet, but if you can make out the Jacob's Ladder through the reflection in the photo (apparently the same cut as an American "short rib"), then you're probably as keen to give it a go as I am. You know, if you're a weird meat obsessive like me.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Nikos Kazantzakis' "Askitiki": The Saviors of God

Holidaying in America, I took myself to a small town in Vermont, described intriguingly in guides as an artists' colony. My lodging seemed a fairytale house in the woods; I explored its environs, and took the advice of its proprietress to visit a restaurant in the centre of the town, where I met a trio of boisterous septuagenarians - Princeton professor, psychologist poet, and salty seadog - who regaled me each with tales from his own experience, alternately impressively erudite, unobtrusively insightful, and strikingly swashbuckling, before dragging me on to the bar over the road for beers and cheesy lines to local ladies. The poet-philosopher saw something in me, I know not what, but which moved him to share this piece of Kazantzakis' wisdom with me: "we come from a dark abyss, we end in a dark abyss, and we call the luminous interval life". It hit the spot; it helped me through some dark moments, and I’m in some way forever indebted both to the author and his representative.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Wolfram|Alpha

I registered early and so got to see the Wolfram Alpha webinar presentation on Friday evening. The depth of the analysis and the breadth of the scope Alpha was apparently able to apply to any given field made me reel at the possibilities; the coherence with which the four key components of "curated data; computational algorithms; linguistic processing; automated presentation" (Wolfram's categorisation) had been married gave the impression of a genuinely capable successor to Google, not in the form of a better search engine, but of a more likely first port of call for genuine information. On seeing the demo myself, I realised not only why the questions Mr. W. addressed in the webinar painted a slightly disappointing picture of the actual information stored in Alpha - it relies on curated data, and obviously they've not got round to curating all of it yet, so it didn't know all the answers - but also why whether it knew about a particular topic was the wrong question. It will.
Check *ME* out.

Check *ME* out.
I'm a special police car, see. I'm City of London Po-lice. That means I'm not your normal, common-or-garden Metropolitan (big or small 'm') police car. No. Not me. I'm dark blue and I've got big day-glo yellow letters. I'm *special*.

Outside City of London police station, Bishopsgate, London, UK.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Nati Shalom's Blog: Designing a Scalable Twitter

Article about using a 'spaces'-based architectural approach to building a Twitter-like pub-sub/db hybrid system

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Early birds

Early birds
Stopped a group of folks on the side of the road, early one spring morning.

Downham Road, London, UK

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Oh yes, this was a good one.

Oh yes, this was a good one.
So I'm sitting in a taxi, hot-footing it over to Victoria - or at this stage, cold-footing it, as the police management of the Tamil demonstrations in Trafalgar Square has reduced the traffic to fewer lanes than usual, and we're just sitting there. Eagle-eyed as ever, I take the opportunity to snap these three chaps standing chatting on the edge of the pavement, and of course exactly as I do so, the fellow on the left looks over and watches me do it. Perhaps my insufficiently cautious window-opening attracted his attention. He walks in a measured manner over to the cab and straight towards me, and, leaning down to look through the window, initiates a short conversation:

PC: Take a good photo of us, then, did you?
Me: [deciding to brazen it out] Yes thanks!
PC: Good and clear, was it?
Me: Yes, came out really well thanks, here, see [shows photo to copper]
PC: [disgruntled expression]
Me + taxi driver: [Exeunt, pursued neither by bear nor, apparently, police]

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Looking on

Looking on
Standing to attention outside the Palacio Municipal de Congresos where the W3C WWW2009 conference was held

Campo de las Naciones, Madrid, España