2) Likewise I need to make a quick vector text graphic to go on my shirt for Lup and I used to be able to just throw some fonts together real quick and be pleased with the result and now it's taking me forever? Like this is basically the equivalent of a website header text graphic and it's just not working for me.
3) That said, I missed the widespread adoption of flexbox and just found it this week and it's basically amazing. Like, solves most of the problems I had with CSS, honestly.
Alright, back to banging my head against design.
Listening: I just listened to the first of the David Tennant and Catherine Tate Big Finish audios which I enjoyed more than I expected to - although they paired Donna up with another London temp and I actually, on audio, found them quite hard to tell apart.
Watching: A mixture of Wallander, Killjoys, Yuri on Ice and classic Doctor Who. We're doing quite well for choice of viewing options at the moment.
I don't actually know what kind of job I want next. I spend a lot of time writing code, scripts and tools that either keep things running automagically or help automate some of the fixes. There's usually something else higher priority though, which is frustrating. Word is that a new position may be 'invented' that's all the code parts of my job and none of the other stuff. I don't know if I'll enjoy writing code /all/ day, but I do know the only reason I haven't applied to join the dev team is the dullness of the products they work on. So t
This was the much bigger cousin of the holiday barges that pootle up and down our Worcestershire canal. The main bulk of the hull served as the home of the bloke who ran the B&B. We were in the wheelhouse, overlooking the canal. The docks seem to serve as pretty much permanent moorings for the barges in this area. Each one had a small garden, and there was even a floating children’s play area.
It was surprisingly quiet given that the location is a mere 15 minute walk from Centraal Station. We could hear a distant roar of traffic, but mostly we heard the hangry cheeping of two adolescent coots and the occasional quack of a duck. We also found a great crested grebe nesting a few boats down. It was definitely brooding, as we never saw the nest unoccupied.
The nest itself was a rather wonderful construction, being a mix of urban rubbish and plant detritus, with a few hollyhocks artfully arranged around the edges. The grebe had two female mallard bodyguards, who immediately came to circle the nest at a careful distance, giving me the side-eye when I hopped down on to the dock from the pavement to take photos.
The barge proprietor tiptoed in every morning to leave us breakfast on the table next to the wheelhouse. It included a bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice, muesli, yoghurt, and hardboiled eggs nested in knitted cosies. Much as I wanted to sleep in, the prospect of getting that into my belly when I heard his footsteps got me out of bed pretty early both mornings. We received so much food at breakfast that we were able to make sandwiches from the bread and cheese to squirrel away for later. We ate these in the Vondelpark on the first day, and for supper on the second after the lunch at Rijks.
Apart from the sheer pleasure of walking around Amsterdam, we also indulged in a trip to a Michelin-starred restaurant for a very belated birthday treat for me. We spent three and a half hours eating lunch at Rijks, which is next to the Rijksmuseum. The bloke had mentioned that it was my birthday when he made the booking. As a result, in addition to our pudding, I got a white chocolate candle with sorbet and a little message inside. We sampled both white and red wines, all by Dutch winemakers “from everywhere in the world” (e.g. New Zealand and South Africa).
Photos from Rijks behind the cut.
( +++ )
You are 18-50 years old and live in the United States.
You have access to a desktop or laptop computer; smartphones and tablets will not work with this study.
You have been diagnosed with major depressive disorder or bipolar disorder.
You have been prescribed medication to treat major depressive disorder or bipolar disorder.
You are willing to provide a saliva sample for DNA testing.
You are willing to complete online study sessions over the course of nine months. Each study session takes between 10-30 minutes and may include surveys and a series of cognitive tests online.
If you have been diagnosed with major depression, or bipolar disorder I, or bipolar disorder II by a medical professional and you meet the other criteria listed above, you may be eligible to participate in this study.
What you get:
If you are new to 23andMe, when you participate in this study, not only will you contribute to this first-of-its-kind research and help us take a step toward learning more about the genetics of depression and bipolar, but you will also experience 23andMe for yourself and receive over 70 personalized genetic reports online about your health, ancestry and traits.
Mirrored from Juliet Kemp.
I went to a panel at Worldcon on the morality of generation ships, and have been thinking about it since.
(I’m also going to take this opportunity to recommend this Jo Walton story set on a generation ship, which is great and has something to say about choice and decisions.)
So, the question under discussion at the panel was: is it morally acceptable to board a generation ship (i.e. a ship that people will live on for multiple generations on their way to another planet), given that you are not just making a decision for yourself, but for your future children, grandchildren, etc etc. The two main categories of moral problem that the panel identified were:
- the risk of the voyage itself;
- the lack of choice for every generation after the one that gets on the ship in the first place.
The ‘risk’ issue seems reasonably strong. It’s very unlikely that anyone would have a really clear idea of what the planet was like that they were going to. If you’re using a generation ship at all, then you probably don’t have any other form of fast travel, so any information that exists about the planet will be scanty, very out of date, or most likely both. (See Kim Stanley Robinson’s Aurora, which is also great.) So it’s not at all a reliable bet that your descendants will truly be able to settle where they’re headed to, even if it looks good from here.
There are also the risks of the voyage itself, including but not limited to radiation issues, the possibility of running into something else, and the likelihood that the ship will genuinely be able to maintain a workable ecological system. We don’t have good on-Earth comparisons for small closed systems; what experiments have been conducted have been very short-term and not terribly promising. What about the social dynamics? What are the risks of, say, a totalitarian system arising? If the risks on Earth are very high, or humans on Earth are facing imminent disaster, then this might be an acceptable trade-off, but how high is ‘very high’ and how disastrous does a disaster have to be? Does it need to be Earth-wide? If your current home is, for example, sinking under rising waters, and you know that any alternative will mean becoming a refugee in poor circumstances — how much risk is ‘reasonable’ to accept then?
Which brings us on to the issue of ‘choice’. One could argue that a kid living in a refugee camp without enough food or warm clothes has, notionally, some future ‘choice’ or ‘opportunity’ to escape that. A child on a generation ship is stuck there.
But why is “can’t leave generation ship” morally different from “can’t leave Earth”? Which is of course a situation into which all children are currently born and which we do not consider morally problematic. And how realistic is the ‘choice’ that the average Earth-born child has? This was where I thought that the Worldcon panel fell down a bit. They threw the word “choice” around a lot but didn’t at all interrogate what realistic “choice” is available to which children in which situation on Earth. There are many kids born without very many realistic ‘choices’; children who are unlikely to go more than a few miles beyond where they were born, children whose projected lifespan is short, children whose lives are likely to be very difficult. How different is that, in reality, from a generation ship? In fact, if the generation ship does work, it might be a better life than on Earth: guaranteed food, shelter, and useful work (making the ship run).
The panel talked about limiting the choices of children born on the moon, because they might not be able to go back and live on Earth — but why is Earth necessarily better than the moon, or Mars, or the asteroid belt? Why isn’t it immoral of us to have children who are stuck down here in the gravity well?
More generally: we’re constantly making choices for our children, and through them for generations beyond; we’re constantly giving them some chances and removing other options, every decision we make. Is that immoral? It’s not avoidable, however much privilege you have, although most certainly more privilege generally means more options.
Would I get on a generation ship? Well. Not without a really good perusal of the specs. But I’m not convinced that it’s immoral to do so.
Broadcast message from root@raspberrypi (somewhere):
BCM 4 held low, system shutdown in 5 minutes
Broadcast message from root@raspberrypi:
The system is going down for power-off!
And yes, the pi would turn off. Every single time.
I don't know why the Explorer pHAT seems to pull BCM 4 low upon exit, when none of my other pHATs do. But I do know why that was triggering a shutdown.
I had also installed (though not in use) the Zero LiPo SHIM and the OnOff SHIM. They both install the clean-shutdown library that does just what it says, shuts down your pi when BCM 4 is held low.
It installs the
cleanshutdservice, but it didn't respond to my attempts to stop it, so I had to disable it.
In /boot/config.txt add;
Save, exit, reboot. Then you can play around with your Explorer pHAT in peace.
"I woke up this morning [...] and decided to kick them off the Internet." -Matthew Prince, CEO of CloudFlare
You've helped maintain their internet presence for months or even years, despite hating everything they stand for. We all acknowledge and accept this as part of working for any company without a morality clause in the terms of service. But being legal doesn't make it moral, and isn't it better when there's less objectionable content out there? Even the most permissive terms include room for interpretation. WordPress previously claimed to "not censor, period", but its not censorship if they're saying the wrong things. What customers does your company have that should be 'reconsidered'?
Each day at work we're making the choice to keep those voices out there, helping the enemy. Have you developed conscientious objections? Isn't it time to take a stand? Your employer's policies don't have to tie your hands. Delete the bad websites. Route the objectionable emails to the trash. Those people don't belong on your servers, only the right kind of people do.
You work hard every day to keep the internet running like a well-oiled machine. This as just a bit more trash to clean up.