BBC NEWS | Science/Nature | US robot builds copies of itself: “US researchers have devised a simple robot that can make copies of itself from spare parts.”

So. Freaking. Kewl.

T-800, here we come!

UPDATE:

OHMYGAWDTHISISTOOFUCKINGCOOL!

BBC NEWS Rare Spain lynx cub dies in fight: “One of three lynx cubs born in captivity in Spain in March has died after a fight with one of its siblings.”

Any time I’m reading an article like this, I’m reminded of LIFE OF PI. And if you’re not reminded of the same, then you need to go read the book, too. Look, I’ve even included a helpful Amazon.com link – you have no excuse.

Maybe it’s time to stop swimming
Maybe it’s time to find out where I’m at
What I should do, where I should be
No one will give me a map…

BBC NEWS | Personal stereo ‘deafness fears’: “Listening to personal stereos at high volumes could lead to hearing problems, a leading health specialist has warned.”

Cause we didn’t hear this tweny five years ago…

Passed on to me by someone who shall remain unnamed. Because I want all the attention of scary government agents, all to myself:

Three Texas surgeons were playing golf together and discussing surgeries they had performed. One of them said, “I’m the best surgeon in Texas. A concert pianist lost 7 fingers in an accident. I reattached them, and 8 months later he perfomed a private concert for the Queen of England.” One of the others said, “That’s nothing. A young man lost both arms and legs in an accident. I reattached them, and 2 years later he won a gold medal in field events at the olympics.”

The third surgeon said, “You guys are amateurs. Several years ago, a cowboy, who was high on cocaine and alcohol, rode a horse head-on into a train traveling 80 miles an hour. All I had left to work with was the horse’s ass and a cowboy hat. Now, he’s President of the United States.”

I always want to take off running when I make eye contact with approaching policemen. The goal, of course, is to run for the nearest building — public, private, whatever. Then, when approached (under extreme suspicion, presumably) by the police from whom you just fled, you calmly explain that, while in college, you were given a post-hypnotic suggestion that eye contact with authority figures gives you intense and brutal diarrhea.

I wonder if that would fly ,and how long it would take your friends to completely desert you?

I feel like there was a bitchin’ rave in my abdomen last night while I slept, and my head was used as a parking deck.

I now officially have so many projects started and pending approval from various departments that I can’t remember what’s where anymore. Even with the help of a Texas-sized whiteboard.

Fuck.

And that’s just at work…

Started actually producing some new work last night. I’ve got the foundation, musically, for a new song; now, once I figure out how to get my computer to record (read: get a new computer so my $200 sound card will work properly), I can build that up and begin playing with arrangements. Lyrics are off to a start, as well, but these feel different — unlike the usual arrangement I have with my muse, these didn’t come to me in a flash. I have a few lines, one half of a verse (maybe a bridge), and that’s where I’m stuck. Here, I’ll share:

Empathic? Empathetic? Turns out it’s all the same on Friday night
But what if all the feelings that I’m reading pass like shadows in the light?

Been listening to a lot of the Decemberists the past few days, so that’s already affecting the content — and is probably a good explanation for the slow pace.

And I’ve put more thought into the overall multimedia … thing … that I’ve been considering. Who knows what will end up happening with that? I’m worried that it will either fall by the wayside out of necessity — I suddenly find myself with other ideas, for songs and a novel — or that the other ideas will be forced aside in order to work on the epic … thing …

Unfortunately, the … thing … and the other ideas are not compatible. I would simply absorb the ideas if that were the case.

Back to feeling nauseous. With power, even.

The Hacker’s Diet

Read it and vomit.

(That’s another good way to keep the pounds off, by the way)

What separates man from animal?

� Emotion: Nope. Dogs display it (perhaps not the same as humans, but nonetheless, it’s there), as well as empathy, which is tied to emotion.

Thought for another time: empathy = sense?

� Creativity: This requires a little more division. I think that survival of species would require some form of creativity in the form of adaptation. You can apply this term to a new solution to a problem. So again, no. However…

� Fiction: Do animals possess the capacity for fiction — both creation of and the differentiation from reality? This would seem to apply to the ability to lie, as well (and perhaps even the need to lie). Do animals have need or capacity for entertainment that doesn’t serve a greater purpose in their survival? Sure, domesiticated animals might “play” — but watching my cats “play” (and I use the term VERY loosely the second time around, since it verges on domestic terrorism) looks a lot to me like preparing for defense. Call it a survival instinct.

AH!

� INSTINCT: This one goes in all caps. Not that there’s a possession of instinct by on and not the other; obviously, instinct is necessary to survive. It’s like a computer without a bootstrap — instinct tells you to eat and breathe and swallow when you’re too young to understand the necessity.

But animals are almost purely instinct driven. There’s no over-analysis of a situation, no seeking a solution that will expend less energy. They go with their gut. We people don’t do so well with that — perhaps this is a Western thing, or maybe it’s just an extension of civilization, but we seem to be bred away from instinct.

And some of us take that WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY too far. But that’s another story.

� Concept of future: Related to instinct? Brought to a higher level on an intellectual basis? Animals obviously have some sort of inborn concept of future — thus, the built-in urge to procreate and carry on the species / DNA line / whatever.

Everything about this point has just been erased by Blogger. Thanks, Easter Blogger. Bock Bock.

More later.

Also to consider: people without the distinctions, or people who lose those distinctions…

Influences are important, not just to creatives, but to everyone. You’re a businessman? Donald Trump. A mathematician? Newton. A teacher, plumber, construction worker? Someone before you inspired you to be the best you can be or to just get by; shaped your way of thinking and approaching this bitch called life.

There are a lot of works that inspired me, individually. BE — both the CD and the performance DVD — by Pain of Salvation. L.A. STORY by Steve Martin. CHOKE by Chuck Pahlaniuk. King’s DARK TOWER cycle. But artists in their fields that have inspired me, both through their works and their lives and thoughts — very few. Count ’em on one hand, I can. Steve Vai. Devin Townsend. Both of them in music… In film, it’s more moments or stories or unique performances, though Johnny Depp in recent years has started to have more and more of those.

But as authors go, there’s but one write who seems to ceaselessly inspire me, both on a creative level as well as in life. If you need a good place to start, track down a copy of Available Light.

Warrenellis.com � Stories, Drinking And The World: “I sit down every day to tell myself a story. Usually full of either stimulants or depressants, playing some kind of soundtrack to the experience of writing, aware of my environment, sitting in my own little writer�s movie and telling myself a story. Anyone who tells you they write to an audience is either an idiot or a fake. You write for yourself. If the story doesn�t affect you in some way, it won�t affect anybody else. I don�t write for the trunk. I�m well aware that someone else is going to read this. But if I don�t respond in some honest, gut way to whatever I�m writing, you�ll never get to see it.” [much more in link]