1) I like interesting photography.
2) I am a stumbler.
3) Most websites allow comments now.
4) The internet is filled with goons and other silly people.

As I was stumbling through the internet a moment ago I came across an interesting photo of an underwater restaurant that is enclosed entirely in glass such that the diners have a constantly changing view of underwater life while they eat. Looked really cool. There was the obligatory comment as the third or so on the page:

“Definitely photoshopped. I can tell by the pixels, and I’ve seen a lot of ’shops in my time.”

Given the fact that goons are known for stockpiling clubs and hunting dead horses for years at a time, the comment should come as no surprise to anyone. But I just thought of something, three little letters that are like gold to any business: “EAV”.

EAV stands for Equivalent Ad Value. When companies get positive face time on large networks such as a news network or paper or a highly trafficked website, they are essentially getting ad space for free. And it’s extremely valuable ad space, because it is placed in content spaces where people are actually looking to read the content. Here’s an example: My company, TripAdvisor, got mentioned a couple months back in the show “The Office”. If anyone remembers, it’s the episode where Dwight Schrute opens an Agrotourism Bed and Breakfast at Schrute Farms. Its page is still at tripadvisor, and the clip is up at both tripadvisor and youtube. The mention cost us very little, but the value of it is exceptionally high, since it is in front of millions of people across the US who watch the show.

for an even better, slightly less biased example, Research In Motion says it estimates that it had millions of dollars of EAV from the whole “Barackberry” debacle, and I’d believe it. Think of him what you will, there is no denying our President’s intelligence and simultaneous stardom, and if he uses a RiM smartphone, then hell, shouldn’t I look into it. They paid nothing for that plug, and they didn’t even expect or look for it. The fact that Obama didn’t actually use a blackberry doesn’t matter at all.

So now we go back to this meme: it seems there are like 20 goons or farkers or the like who spend hours a day going across thousands of websites and delivering equivalent ad value to Adobe with this tired joke, and you know what? They hit all the highest trafficked images first. I’ll bet it’s worth tons.

The content of this post is syndicated from Pigsflew.com. Read comments there.

I was writing a quick script and needed to modify a url quickly to change the fields on a url.

def url_get_field ( url, field )
  m=/.*[&?]#{field}=(.+?)(&.*)/.match(url)
  n=/.*[&?]#{field}=(.+)/.match(url)
  if !m.nil?
    return m[1]
  elsif !n.nil?
    return n[1]
  else
    return ""
  end
end

def url_set_field ( url, field, value )
  m=/(.*[&?]#{field}=)(.+?)(&.*)/.match(url)
  n=/(.*[&?]#{field}=)(.+)/.match(url)
  if !m.nil?
    url = m[1] + value + m[3]
  elsif !n.nil?
    url = n[1] + value
  else
    unless /.+[?&].+?=.+/.match(url).nil?
      url = url + '&'
    else
      url = url + '?'
    end
    url = url + field + "=" + value
  end
  url
end

def url_remove_field ( url, field )
  m=/(.*)([&?])(#{field}=(.+?))(&(.*))/.match(url)
  n=/(.*)([&?])(#{field}=(.+))/.match(url)
  unless m.nil?
    url = m[1] + m[2] + m[6]
  else
    url = n[1] unless n.nil?
  end
  url
end

Now it's easy enough to do! check this out:

irb(main):160:0> url = 'http://pigsflew.com'
=> "http://pigsflew.com"
irb(main):161:0> url = url_set_field( url, 'test', 'omg' )
=> "http://pigsflew.com?test=omg"
irb(main):162:0> url = url_set_field( url, 'archives', '526')
=> "http://pigsflew.com?test=omg&archives=526"
irb(main):163:0> url_get_field( url, 'test' )
=> "omg"
irb(main):164:0> url_remove_field( url, 'test' )
=> "http://pigsflew.com?archives=526"
irb(main):165:0>

Originally published at Pigsflew.com. You can comment here or there.

My router has been power-cycling itself at random for approximately a day.

I’ve owned three routers now, two D-Links and a Linksys, with the current being a D-Link WBR-2310. All three of them had issues with automatic power-cycling after approximately 6 months of ownership. What I expect from these routers is merely

- Wireless G with WEP 128-bit or WPA support
- UPnP
- Static port mapping
- DDNS
- Normal Routing features (DHCP Client/Server, Routing tables, DNS Cacheing)

All three of the routers I have owned “supported” these features, and worked–for six months. And then it’s as if the router was not powerful enough to continue performing with any reliability.

I’m looking for a router that does not die. A router that will be 100% reliable, no glitches or shutdowns save for manual ones, for years of use. Google couldn’t tell me anything, so I turn to you: What routers are you guys using? have they treated you well?

(More Piglet is coming, but it’ll take a while while I trudge through homework this week)

Dramatis Personae:

Owl	King of the Hundred Acre Wood.
Piglet	son to the former, and nephew to the present King
Gopher	Lord Chamberlain
Roo	Friend to Piglet. Also Officer, Soldier, and Servant to Gopher.
Pooh	Son to Gopher
Heffalump	Former friend to Piglet, Courtier
Woozle	Former friend to Piglet, Courtier
Christopher Robin	Prince of Under-The-Bed
Tigger	A Player. Also a clown, a gravedigger, and an Under-The-Bedish Captain.
Rabbit	Queen of the Hundred Acre Wood, Mother of Piglet
Kessie	Daughter to Gopher
Ghost of Tresspassers William	Piglet’s Father, former King of the Hundred Acre Wood
Eeyore	Everyone Else

ACT I. Scene i.

Hundred Acre Wood. A Platform outside Piglet’s house

(Enter EEYORE, pacing across the platform listlessly.)
EEYORE: So cold. Really eerie night.
(Enter Roo.)
EEYORE: Hullo? Oh fine, go ahead and ignore poor old Eeyore. Even Ghosts ignore me.
ROO: Eeyore? It’s me, Roo.
EEYORE: Oh well then. I guess I’m off guard duty. Good thing too. I’d just as soon be away from the Ghost out here.
ROO: There’s no such thing as ghosts. You’re making that up.
Enter GHOST
ROO: OH MY! It’s the very image of Tresspassers William!

END OF SCENE

Originally published at Pigsflew.com. You can comment here or there.

(10:27:57 PM) John FX: the pitcher, Buchholz
(10:27:59 PM) John FX: is 20
(10:28:04 PM) John FX: it was his 2nd major league game ever
(10:28:04 PM) Adrian Sud: wierd
(10:28:12 PM) John FX: he was just brought up from pawtucket to pitch tonight
(10:28:16 PM) John FX: and he pitched a no-hitter against baltimore
(10:28:27 PM) Adrian Sud: you know what’s weird? I always spell weird wrong.
(10:28:30 PM) John FX: lol
(10:28:33 PM) Adrian Sud: always.
(10:28:37 PM) John FX: i think its ridiculous and amazing
(10:28:58 PM) John FX: he’s 20, he had the whole red sox team jumping and chearing him at the end of the game, crowding around him
(10:28:58 PM) Adrian Sud: because you say “wi” and “erd” wi-erd. But in fact it’s “We” and “ird”, which sounds different
(10:29:03 PM) John FX: everyone in the stadium cheering for him
(10:29:23 PM) Adrian Sud: lol we do not require each other for this conversation
(10:29:34 PM) John FX: apparently
(10:29:40 PM) John FX: lol

Originally published at Pigsflew.com. You can comment here or there.

As the summer winds to a halt I just realized how much, exactly, I’ve changed.

Not all of me has, of course, nobody ever changes completely, but this summer I took on a great deal of responsibility; I formed a persona somewhat larger than I am, one made of bravado and self-worth. I moved away from my family, deciding that I needed to be out from under my father’s roof. I took on a research position with the Computer Science department because I “knew I was good enough”.

And then I began dating the most perfect girl I’ve ever known. I say perfect because for me, at least, she is. Some people may not quite understand, some people may think it’s silly, and in many ways they may be right–but this is what I’ve needed to happen for a long time.

But I’m still the same in a lot of ways. I love symbols. When I was a little kid, I found a stone on a beach in Massachusetts, and immediately understood it to be beautiful, and a solid symbolic piece. I decided it would be the beginning of a rock collection, so it was polished, and set atop my dresser, a deep blue heart-shaped stone that fit perfectly into the palm of my hand. I never had a rock collection, but the stone stayed with me for more than ten years, until I found something that required a symbol. I gave the stone to my first girlfriend, Hannah.

Until now, I had not found another relationship that I felt required a symbol as such.

The other day I asked Hannah for the stone back. It is perhaps a rude thing to do, to ask someone to return what was given, but returning it was also a symbol. Mikah understood that immediately; I’m almost certain that Hannah did too.

But with Mikah, the stone is not a sufficient symbol. I cannot give it to her for several reasons: first, it was a stone I found in my youth; it represents immature and young love–worth every second but not to be trusted. Second, it was the stone I gave to Hannah. I would want the symbol I give Mikah, when I choose to do so, to represent both of us in some way, even if it’s small.

This is the close of the best summer I’ve ever had.

Originally published at Pigsflew.com. You can comment here or there.

This girl makes me feel like a totally untalented waste of human space. Why can I not do that?

Originally published at Pigsflew.com. You can comment here or there.

The wasps come.

I wage war again, a slow stream of them–thus far just one a night. And as with previous years I am ruthless as they are–they wake me in the earliest hours of the morning, buzzing, threatening with their envenomed organic needles. But they are mere beasts. I must be resourceful; must have a strategy that keeps them safely away from me. In the course of this war, I have commandeered two plastic containers from the local stockpiles, and the flow of prisoners may require soon that I acquire another.

This morning I failed my watch. At six on the clock I heard a buzzing sound which woke me, but to which I said only “I need a truce this morning.” I turned on a window air conditioner unit on fan mode to drown out its buzzing, buried my fears under a pillow, and returned to sleep. At seven and thirty, I again awoke, but again did not take any action against the invader. It was near nine and thirty before I moved from my bed, and the creature was no longer there. It took a moment to register this. I tossed my sheets and blankets–I have been stung while under covers before–and my eyes roved the room, searching for signs, my ears alert to any sound.

There, next to the air conditioner, the tape that had held the thing against the window sides had ripped, a hole was open to the outside that, to a wasp, must seem extremely inviting at night. I have a new course of action for this war: Rebuild defenses.

I realized, upon dressing, that all of my clothes need washing. All, that is, except my sleeveless navy blue shirt. I put it on, an action which always prompts from me one of two reactions: “I hate this shirt,” or “Holy shit I am sexy!”

This morning prompted the latter.

Originally published at Pigsflew.com. You can comment here or there.

… but I must share the following scene.

Adrian is standing in the bathroom, preparing to brush his teeth. His shirt is off. He glances at the mirror, and then away, then looks back quickly, noticing something for the first time.

Adrian: … Shoulders…? (He reaches his left hand to his right shoulder, rubs it, a confused expression coming over him) Red?
Silence for a few moments. Adrian pokes his shoulders a few times each.
Adrian: … I guess I can burn after all?

Originally published at Pigsflew.com. You can comment here or there.

Liking her was absolutely… ridiculously… mindlessly… stupid.

Waiting for her was not supposed to be my intention.

Hoping things would work out was against everyone’s (including my own–and her) better judgement.

Having things begin to fall into place is a fluke.

Having them continue to do so is a beautiful accident.

Counting on this optimistically for any time into the future is still, perhaps, naive.

I know I’m freaking awesome, but my trust that anyone else really believes that is shaky at best, nonexistent at worst.

ps: I’m going to boston tomorrow, to find out if i’m finally actually done with this. if i seem zany it’s because i’m trying not to think about it. if i seem down it’s because i’m failing.

clarification: it’s an appointment with Dr. Foster in Boston–It should be fine, these things just always bother me.

Originally published at Pigsflew.com. You can comment here or there.

but I woke up with the following thought:

World’s smallest black hole… more like world’s most literal tourist trap!

i remember seeing a NO EXIT sign, too…

Originally published at Pigsflew.com. You can comment here or there.

MOAR!!