Silicon Soapware #239
Jun. 4th, 2014 12:06 amSilicon Soapware #239 is out. Look in
http://www.well.com/~bubbles/SS0239.txt
or check out my main page at
http://www.well.com/~bubbles/
http://www.well.com/~bubbles/SS0239.txt
or check out my main page at
http://www.well.com/~bubbles/
SILICON SOAPWARE
wafting your way along the slipstreams of the Info Highway
from Bubbles = Tom Digby
= bubbles@well.com
http://www.well.com/~bubbles/
Issue #239
New Moon of May 28, 2014
Contents copyright 2014 by Thomas G. Digby, and licensed under a Creative
Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License. See the Creative
Commons site at http://creativecommons.org/ for details.
Silicon Soapware is available via email with or without reader feedback.
Details of how to sign up are at the end.
*********************
May has given way to June. Back when I was young that meant we were
within a day or two one way or the other of the end of the school year.
It was a time to look forward to being able to relax and enjoy
unstructured time.
Now I tend to think of spring as more of a time when the world sort of
wakes up.
For the past few months days have been getting longer and longer. We're
now at a time when the days will still get a little bit longer before
they start getting shorter again, but they're almost as long as they're
ever going to get.
It has also been a time of gradually noticing that I was no longer having
to deal with cold weather. Just a couple of weeks ago it finally felt
like it was time to turn my heater pilot off for the summer.
Now I'm thinking about how it's going to start getting hot soon. Being
too hot can be worse than being cold. I like the evening light, even if
I don't like the heat, but I won't really be rid of the heat until the
days have gotten significantly shorter again.
I go through this every year. I'm reminded of that Sixties rock song
"The Beat Goes On" (Sonny & Cher).
*********************
"The hotel our convention was at is doing some kind of weird art exhibit.
I don't know what it's called but it's some kind of surrealistic
installation that looks like random furniture and such floating overhead
in the atrium."
"That's just random furniture and such."
"I would think they could have come up with a better title than that."
"It's not really art. It's storage."
"Huh?"
"You know how some conventions fill up the hotel's exhibit space and end
up having parties and such in regular sleeping rooms? Many of those
party hosts would like to take the beds out of their rooms so they can
have more room for people to stand around at their parties."
"Yes, but hotels seem reluctant to do that for some reason."
"One big reason is that they don't have space to store the stuff they
take out of the rooms. Or at least they didn't, until recently."
"So what happened?"
"Our convention hotel had a UFO convention, and someone managed to get a
bunch of anti-gravity stickers from some advanced civilization or other.
Even though they're beyond Earth technology, they're quite common on
quite a few planets so the hotel was able to get several hundred of them
for just a few bucks."
"Anti-gravity stickers?"
"Yes. You stick one on an object and it neutralizes the effect of
gravity on that object, so you can put it up in the air and it will just
stay there. So now they're using all that previously wasted overhead
space in the atrium for storage."
"How do they get the things back? They're too high to reach."
"There are a couple of hotel employees who are into fishing, and are
pretty good with a rod and reel. They just cast a hook (unbaited, so the
furniture doesn't end up smelling like worms or rotten shrimp or
whatever), snag the piece they want, and reel it in."
"Does anything ever go wrong?"
"One time they were moving a piano from one wing of the hotel to the
other. That normally takes two or three people or a fork lift or
something, but someone thought that with a couple of those anti-gravity
stickers one person would be able to handle it. It went OK until he had
to cross a courtyard, and a gust of wind came up at just the wrong time
and the piano got away. They still haven't found it."
"How far could it have gone?"
"Quite a ways. Those stickers don't wear out the way helium leaks out of
balloons, and since they don't depend on air density for lift there's no
altitude limit like there is with balloons. That piano could be halfway
to the Moon by now."
"So posting LOST PIANO posters around the neighborhood probably won't do
much good."
"Probably not. And if this comes to the attention of the FAA or NASA or
some other such agency the hotel could get in trouble. So they've been
keeping it quiet."
"That makes sense, even though I think it would be safer to put out
warnings to airlines and people launching space missions and such to be
on the lookout for it."
*********************
I recently bought an electric fan, and it came with a card to fill in and
mail back to register the warranty. One thing I noticed about the form
is that it had a space to put your date of birth, and then farther down
it had a set of boxes to check for your age group (18-24, 25-39, and so
on).
So why do they need to ask your age if they already know your date of
birth? Can't they just calculate it?
Then the thought hit me: Time travelers. Once you get into time travel
there's no longer a simple relationship between your birth date and your
age.
I don't know why time travelers would be especially likely to buy
electric fans, but then maybe the company makes other things I'm not
aware of that are of more interest to time travelers than electric fans
are. I don't recall seeing anything unusual in the store, but maybe the
time travel stuff is in the back and you have to ask for it, using secret
words only time travelers and store employees know.
So the next time you're in one of those big-box hardware stores, be on
the lookout for customers asking weird questions full of seemingly
nonsensical words or phrases. They might be time travelers.
*********************
One of the suggestions I hear for saving water is to not flush the toilet
for Number One: "If it's yellow, let it mellow. If it's brown, flush it
down."
That has a problem in that if too long a time goes by with nobody doing
poo-poo, the accumulated pee can get rather unattractive.
A possible solution is to flip a coin: Heads you flush, tails you don't
(always flushing for doo-doo). That cuts down the average time stuff is
likely to sit there without getting flushed, while still achieving about
half the savings of the original proposal.
If you want to realize greater savings you can get fancy by throwing a D4
or D6 and flushing only if it comes up a 1. Anything beyond that gets
into diminishing returns.
*********************
People on one social networking site who want to keep their real-world
personal information private have taken to listing their location as
Antarctica. Those who don't want their age generally known (management
doesn't seem to care as long as they're over 18) have been claiming the
earliest birth date the software allows, which currently puts them in
their mid-nineties. That led me to thoughts of establishing old-age
homes at the South Pole.
And then I got to thinking about zombies.
I would think that zombies wouldn't rot in Antarctica because of the
cold. So do they stay functional longer there? Or has rotting flesh
never been a problem? Do they need actual muscle tissue to move, or is
some other mechanism involved?
Zombies in the movies often look like their flesh is rotting away, but it
doesn't seem to stop them from functioning. So maybe moving them to the
South Pole wouldn't make much difference.
On the other hand, a zombie with most of the tissues around its joints
intact might freeze solid and be too stiff to move. Has anyone done any
tests on this? Even if that doesn't immobilize them, freezing them in a
block of ice should. Either way, being able to freeze zombies may be
useful.
Maybe people who don't want to become zombies after they die should go to
Antarctica while they're still alive. That way when they die they can be
set outside to freeze and it won't matter if they become zombies or not
because they won't be able to go around doing zombie-type stuff.
The only danger is global warming. The first thing that will happen
after the climate in Antarctica turns warm is that all those old-age
homes full of people in their nineties will get too hot because they
don't have air conditioning, and many residents will die sooner than they
otherwise would. Then when they stack the dead bodies outside they won't
freeze. They'll become active zombies. And don't forget all those
previously frozen zombies that will thaw and become active.
Meanwhile the ice cap will have melted, which will raise the sea level,
and everybody everywhere else will be too busy dealing with that to worry
about reports of zombies at the South Pole. So once Antarctica has been
warm long enough to grow trees the zombies will make canoes and sail
north and ravage what's left of the rest of the world.
So if you're in any position where you may need to deal with global
warming, put this on your list of things to check before you get canoes
full of rotting zombies paddling in through your upstairs windows.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!
*********************
Incident Along Fantasy Way
Convention Report
For a time I thought my Muse had deserted me.
But no, she had only gone to their convention
And she gave me a partial report.
The days were taken up with the official program:
Panels and seminars and papers
On
"Estimating the Connectivity of Disparate Ideas"
And
"New Techniques for the Management of Fertile Minds"
And
"The Topology of the Subconscious in Spaces of N Dimensions"
And so on, on and on and on,
Until at last,
The late evening social sessions.
Here were the constant arguments between the Muses
Of Crime
And of Punishment,
Juicy tidbits from the Muse of Gossip,
Rumors of parties hosted by the Muses of Sex
(Gay and straight and what-have-you),
The Muse of Animated Cartooning crying about hard times
And Saturday morning TV
And being promised help by the Muses
Of Electronic Design
And of Computer Programming.
Crowds held spellbound by the Muse of Witty Conversation,
And the bright child-fantasies of Muses
Of arts not yet invented.
And, over and through all,
The Eternal Question,
About which even the gods can only speculate:
"Who inspires the Muses?"
-- Thomas G. Digby
written 0055 hr 9/09/74
entered 2200 hr 2/08/92
*********************
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