Erin go braugh and the luck of the Irish. I'm not Irish (and certainly not very lucky), but the Dog is pure-bred. He says, if you catch a leprechaun, they will take you to their pot-of-gold, which the leprechaun will offer as a bribe in exchange for its release. Deal.
What happens when the Kung Fu master meets the battle-hardened street-fighter? Likewise, what happens when you pit the programming skills of a (classically trained) MIT grad with those of a self-taught code warrior (aka über-hacker)?
Found a fascinating article that adresses these very comparisons. (Thanks, Nigel.) Written by Dr. Mark, it's titled » Hackers & Fighters.
It's one of the best pieces I've ever read on the Internet. Single page. I've always heard the best programmers were (are) self-taught.
Saw The Hurt Locker last night. [ You know when you're in it.
] Won 6 Oscars, including Best Picture. Historic flick in that it was the first-time a WOMAN was ever nominated (much less won) an Oscar for Best Director.
I like to see ALL the films that get nominated for Best Picture, cuz I feel they give us an insight into our CULTURE, it's state, and maybe even where it's headed.
I mean, movies become part of our culture. And these films are those the Film industry itself holds up as THE BEST for a given year.
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I enjoyed the Hurt Locker, but feel my expectations might've been too high. Rarely does a film for which I have high expectations exceed them.
I felt it started slowly, tho improved as the movie progressed. Some things didn't ring true for me. Not worth mentioning here.
Also saw Inglorious Bastards (a few nights ago). The subtitles threw me. Wasn't expecting that. Tarantino is always full of surprises. His films are never boring, tho he relies heavily on violence. I gave it an 'okay'.
I told the Bug that 'Up' won the Oscar for 'Best Animation.' He said, No, dad. Dawn of the Dinosaurs is way better than Up.
There you have it. The expert-critics have spoken.
Lastly, one of my supporters cancelled his monthly donation after I posted the piece on » Cirque du Soleil. It's not like I haven't offended readers before. But I never want to offend those who support us.
But life is more than technology. And I need to write what I feel is appropriate, timely, and most interesting. If I always write what I feel will generate the most donations, the site will quickly become boring or make you vomit.
If nothing else, visitors will be receive an honest, thoughtful appraisal of things here in Rad-land (as I see them). Normally I can't be concerned if the things I write might offend someone, lest the site become a fake. And if I can't keep it real, then what's the point? But I regret offending a supporter.
Apropos of the Oscars, you should read "Oscar and Me". Humorous and insightful.
While I'm unlikely to end up with that particular award (not working at Weta Workshop, the local hub of recipients), the point Mr. Scalzi notes about how such things become mundane I can attest to as well: this award I received a few years ago (not quite the normal corporate "attaboy") is now coated in about 2mm of dust. What do our trophies mean?
In light of that, I'd submit this on top of Mr. Scalzi's observation: we use ourselves as our standard of comparison (and as Cal notes, this leads to all kinds of unusual effects).
It's sobering to contemplate how that affects individual human being's ideas of their own "specialness"; both those who relentlessly puff themselves up *and* those who despair of their own existence. Our yardsticks are planted in shifting sands; at times it seems as though they are set by spinning blindfolded.
That preface is justification for a few words of support: sharing the truth of your own experience is a good thing. One of the benefits of an age of (nearly, modulo repressive regimes) universal communication - even if that potential is infrequently realized - is that we can in fact finally put ourselves in context.
Even though our intuitions of the novelty of our experiences may well be wrong, human experience is so incredibly diverse that what is new to us is always worth sharing. Only by sharing and receiving in response can we really locate our contribution to the tapestry of human experience - and the beauty of a tapestry is not in a single stitch, nor the uniqueness of the colour that stitch displays.