|
| |
|
| |
|
|
|
|
TCHS 4O 2000 [4o's nonsense] alvinny [2] - csq - edchong jenming - joseph - law meepok - mingqi - pea pengkian [2] - qwergopot - woof xinghao - zhengyu HCJC 01S60 [understated sixzero] andy - edwin - jack jiaqi - peter - rex serena SAF 21SA khenghui - jiaming - jinrui [2] ritchie - vicknesh - zhenhao Others Lwei [2] - shaowei - website links - Alien Loves Predator BloggerSG Cute Overload! Cyanide and Happiness Daily Bunny Hamleto Hattrick Magic: The Gathering The Onion The Order of the Stick Perry Bible Fellowship PvP Online Soccernet Sluggy Freelance The Students' Sketchpad Talk Rock Talking Cock.com Tom the Dancing Bug Wikipedia Wulffmorgenthaler       |
|
bert's blog v1.21 Powered by glolg Programmed with Perl 5.6.1 on Apache/1.3.27 (Red Hat Linux) best viewed at 1024 x 768 resolution on Internet Explorer 6.0+ or Mozilla Firefox 1.5+ entry views: 1148 today's page views: 501 (20 mobile) all-time page views: 3247721 most viewed entry: 18739 views most commented entry: 14 comments number of entries: 1214 page created Sat Apr 19, 2025 14:22:17 |
|
- tagcloud - academics [70] art [8] changelog [49] current events [36] cute stuff [12] gaming [11] music [8] outings [16] philosophy [10] poetry [4] programming [15] rants [5] reviews [8] sport [37] travel [19] work [3] miscellaneous [75] |
|
- category tags - academics art changelog current events cute stuff gaming miscellaneous music outings philosophy poetry programming rants reviews sport travel work tags in total: 386 |
| ||
|
when all through the house; Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse... Mr. Ham: *shakes head* Now, see, this is exactly what's wrong with society today. Me: The crass commercialism attached to another forcibly appropriated pagan festival? I'm not sure about this one, "A Visit from St. Nicholas" is a classic, after all... Mr. Ham: Nah, I'm not talking about that. The problem's mice. Mice again! What do us true hamsters have to do to enter the public consciousness? Here we are, wearing ourselves down doing outreach and publicity, while they've been riding on that Mickey's coattails for the heavens know how long! It's a damn shame, human. Damn shame. Me: Er... Mr. Ham: But let's not waste the holiday cheer. *rummages in cheek pouch* Here, human, merry Christmas! It's a certificate granting you honorary hamstership status. I hope I don't have to tell you how prestigious a commendation this is, especially since you're still unable to master any of the basic hamster arts, such as petting yourself with your foot. Me: Gee, thanks, I guess. Just put it in the second drawer, together with the eight others you've seen fit to award me, most usually in moments of temporary financial distress. So, let's see what my parents got me... "The Battle for Merger" by LKY, and published by The State's Times. Ah, it's good to hear all sides, I suppose, especially in light of the recent allegation that the 1963 crackdown was more political purge than security struggle, coming as it does in the wake of the erection of a memorial marker to the event. And what's this? More Ferrero Rocher? Nice of my former labmate. Mr. Robo: Merry Christmas, human! I've corrected some of your equations for you! Me: Oh, uh, thanks, Mr. Robo! Um, this is for you. Mr. Robo: Oooh, two rubber bands, a shiny paperclip and a broken USB cable, all nicely crumpled up in a large quantity of two-ply toilet paper! Human, you shouldn't have! Me: I'm glad you like it, it was at pretty short notice. Enjoy the tissue, I know you like it for your bedding. And, Mr. Ham, I definitely haven't forgotten you. Here you go. Mr. Ham: I say! An authentic chunk of valuable Precambrian fossil fuel, the patient handiwork of Nature herself over countless millenia in a secret foundry shielded from the sight of mere mortals such as us, from the same raw material as diamonds, with its glorious history chronicled by each and every of its unique obsidian folds? Human, it's fabulous! Mr. Robo: I want one too! Me: ...I think this did not have the intended chastening effect. Mr. Ham: Well, human, let it not be said that Mr. Ham is ungrateful. I was just joking about the certificate. Behold, your actual Xmas gift! *whips cloth off previously-unnoticed large blocky object standing in the corner* *total silence* Me: Wow. Erm, what is... Mr. Ham: *draws puff on cigar* Nice, eh? It's a honest-to-goodness special edition 9K37BV "Buk-S" surface-to-air missile system, never entered mass production like the common stock. I was on official business in a small former Soviet satellite state the other day, when my contact, who was slightly cash-strapped due to the ongoing ruble panic, offered it in part consideration of the monies owed. I wasn't about to let him off that easily, but his hired goons were getting restless, and they didn't look all that smart. Here, just have a look at that beaut at the warehouse:  It pains me to give up this staunch defender of the Motherland, my friend, but the missus *really* wants an extension to our dacha. Mr. Robo: *aghast* You're dealing with an arms merchant?! Mr. Ham: Watch your tongue, Mr. Robo, Comrade Colonel Gospodin Aleksei Mstislav Goldabearkov is a very respectable gentleham specializing in surplus items of self-defence significance - and purely as a hobby, mind you! They're really polite fellows if you pay the proper homage. Me: Ah, yes, but customs clearance... Mr. Ham: *waves paw* Oh, we have ways. Not that the heavy-duty stuff's that unknown here, mind. It's a bit bulkier than our usual shipments, but nothing some good ol' shoulder grease can't fix. The boys carelessly dropped the ammo a few times en route, by the way, so it's probably safe. Mr. Robo: What logic is this?!?! Mr. Ham: Anyway, it was either this or the wrist-mounted flamethrower, and this turned out to be cheaper - you wouldn't believe the black market exchange rate for Hamerican dollars in Mahilyow now. So, like it? Me: ...I don't know what to say. Mr. Ham: Eloquent as always. Well, knock yourself out, human. I've important matters to attend to. *some time later* Mr. Ham: Ah, occupying yourselves with my thoughtful present, I see. Carry on. Mr. Robo: Fire!  Optimized by gfycat, 0.125x original speed Mr. Ham: I observe that you have been familiarizing yourselves with the armour-piercing sabot. An excellent choice, if I may say so. *lowers voice* Don't tell Colonel Goldabearkov, but I've got a handle on top-grade munitions from a delightful Bedouin chieftain I met on sabbatical in Tehran. He's got a load of the good Sverdlovsk warheads the Russkies hurriedly stashed away in the mountain caves of Afghanistan. Maybe slightly dated, but two kilotons is still two kilotons, yes? I trust that you two can keep it quiet, and not make too loud of a splash over these little trades. Me: Alright, let's introduce the real targets. Mr. Ham: And about time. Wha...  Not your usual nativity scene. Mr. Ham: What is the meaning of this, human?! Why do they all look like me? This... this is outrageous! There will be repercussions! You're not gonna get away with this in broad daylight, like the Hamerican police! Me: Hey, we're kinda thick-skinned about such things here. And anyway, the selection was made only after extensive consultation with Mr. Robo. Mr. Ham: *towards cowering Mr. Robo* You species traitor! Me: Relax, it's just business. Furthermore, it's not Mr. Robo who's pressing the button - we've automated the targeting process. There has been prior in-depth work on this by a group from the University of Sydney, and also a fairly comprehensive book chapter, but we've winged it a bit due to time constraints, and used simple L2-norm similarity instead of a proper feature cascade classifier. It's a bit raw as of now, but Mr. Robo assures me that the main functionality works. With a single spare USB webcam mounted on the launcher with sticky tape, and then carefully calibrated, it is possible to obtain a live video feed of the field of fire, from which Mr. Robo's software detects priority targets, and moves the turret accordingly. Mr. Robo: Yep. After some searching, I determined that the HID API and OpenCV libraries would be well sufficient for our purposes. There was some frustration when I realised that the control model was based on indefinitely executing the last given order, which forced me to implement fine-grained movements in a hackish manner using timeouts. If you're interested, the current messy C++ source is available. Me: Enough of the backstory, it's time to test it against a belligerent mob of rioting hamsters! Reactor Online. Sensors Online. Weapons Online. All Systems Nominal. Mr. Ham: THIS REMAINS AN OUTRAGE! ...but I suppose it's sort of impressive. Colonel Goldabearkov did mention that they were looking into crowd suppression technology... Tell you what, Mr. Robo, I will overlook this grievous provocation, for a fifty percent share of the intellectual property rights. Mr. Robo: What?! You didn't contribute anything but the hardware! Ten percent at most, and that's too much! Mr. Ham: Forty-five. Mr. Robo: Fifteen. Mr. Ham: Forty. Mr. Robo: Twenty. Mr. Ham: Thirty-eight. Mr. Robo: Huh? Uh... twenty-two. Mr. Ham: Ninety, and that's final. Mr. Robo: Fifty-five, take it or leave it. Mr. Ham: Done! Glad we could find common ground here. Me: I suppose that's Christmas for you, Mr. Ham... Next: A Paean To Power
|
|
||||||
 Copyright © 2006-2025 GLYS. All Rights Reserved. |
|||||||
