Rusty Press

My roommate and I stayed at work late last night. we thought to go on a
mission to the kitchens to grab some bread to put our peanut butter
upon. Alas, all ports of entry were locked tight. Sadly we trudged
homeward empty-handed. Sitting at home upon the sofa we contemplated our
plight. Whether it were the better part of vallar to slumber or to whip
up a delicious snack to appease our voracious appetite.

Thus prompted by my roommate’s rumbling stomach we dashed off to the
kitchen to prepare the most savory of concoctions.

“It must contain peanut butter!” he said.

“It must also employ delicious jam,” I said.

“Making bread which we can peanut butter spread upon will take too
long!” I exclaimed. “We shall skip that step. Let us then incorporate
our requirements inside the bread.”

From these small beginnings, a grand snack was created.
Pizza dough with peanut butter and jelly and folded to perfection.
In about 13 minutes flat, at the midnight hour, we happily munched on
our wondrous creation.

dr herberts sunscreen wants to be friends on facebook, what mad
scientist has created intelligent cosmetics who have signed up for
facebook, I don’t know
I must keep an close eye on my toiletries, my nail clippers have been
looking interested in my computer…

What’s up with the news arguing about how many people died in some event
or another?
News: seven people died now!
Coroner’s office: No no no, that simply is not true my dear reporter.

Just how many sons does Gadhafi have?
1,2,3? one is free, one captured, one fighting for rebels, one not…
confused or is on his dad’s side or is on rebel side. always a different
name and they never say one of his sons, but just Gadhafi’s son
so I think it’s multiple personality
Look, three names. All of them reported to be his son.
Gadhafi’s son Saadi captured by rebels
Saif al-Islam, Moammar Gadhafi’s son, has been captured
Gadhafi’s son Mohammed reported to be alive after firefight at his house

Yesterday I went to the eye doctor mostly because of random headaches.
No problem with pressure, perhaps a bit of allergy got drops to get rid of that.
When I was there I decided to ask about something I’d been thinking about for a long time – a cornea transplant.
I was rushed off to different rooms.
The first was a jolly old chap with a british accent who was quite friendly.
Ok, he wasn’t the first, but the first after glaucoma dude poked my eye with random pressure gauges that of course didn’t work until they got the special extra pokey one to tell me my pressure is just fine.
You know those things they put your head on to look at your eyes?
Well, I am certain there is a special head-presser lady who is hired specifically to push your head into place and put one hand on the back and the other on top to make sure you’re not going anywhere.
They seem to be programmed based on the doctor’s voice because once the doctor began to talk, the head-presser lady activated her programming and… pressed my head into place and the doctor waved her off, he just wanted to talk.
The first thing to do when thinking about a cornea transplant is to see if there is any benefit. One way to do that is to scan the retina and see how it’s doing.
I went down into the basement in a creaky old elevator with a rattling door.
I was shown a comfortable bed which I was told i could lay down on and close my eyes like I’m sleeping.
Wonderful. Then, the slime.
Cold, slimy paste was drawn carefully on my upper eye lid. The odd thing about the stuff is that it never seemed to get any warmer with time.
Then a lady pressed mysterious buttons on what I imagined was a small touch screen and slowly began to navigate some sort of probe through the slimescape of my upper eyelid.
The mysterious machine beeped softly to itself. Sometimes it beeped in an annoyed sort of voice and she had to retrace her slithering probe back over that spot again.
She walked away leaving me half-asleep still decorated with slime to converse with someone who called her sister. I thought, uh-oh, what have I gotten myself into. A hospital in South India run by Nuns? Well, there goes my ideas of flirting with the nurses.
After that we waited around for I’m not sure what, but now that I think about it was probably the results of the scan.
Back up the creaky elevator to the cornea specialist who looked at my eye and the scans again.
Then he explained the dangers and answered some questions.
I have been thinking about this for four years now and I told them it’d be an adventure and that I don’t have any expectation of being able to see again. To tell the truth, I walk around much better with my eyes closed. I tend to run into things when my eyes are open.
I asked a lot of questions to show I knew and understood the process and that I understood. I pretended to consider deeply before agreeing to sign up for the cornea waiting list.
They told me there’s an eye bank there at the hospital. My mind ran off in silly directions.
How much interest does the eye bank have?
Credit or debit?
How many eyeballs fit into one account?
I asked how long after the eye arrives must they transplant.
They said, about five days after harvesting. Did they think eyeballs were like rice?
They said that it’s much better to harvest and transplant the very day that the donor dies.
It’s a little disconcerting because since I’m young, they need to find a young healthy cornea for me.
I want to know about the person I get a cornea from, but I doubt they’ll tell me.
After filling out the necessary paperwork, they said they’d call me when they had some suitable tissue – one to six weeks.
Let the adventure begin!

Thought for the day; “If your actions inspire others to dream more, learn more, do more and become more, you are a leader.”

I have come to the realization that the fact that I don’t have sight –
or the possibility of gaining sight is very much more important to
others than it is to me.
The cooks found out here and told me they hoped God would give me my
sight. I told them I am happy because God gave me grape juice.
Joseph said, no, Joseph gave you grape juice. I asked, well, who made
Joseph?
If it doesn’t work, I’ll be no worse off. If I lose all my sight, I’ll
stop running into stuff, if it does work I will be very fascinated and
conduct many experiments.
Other people will be more disappointed than me if it fails.

Mysteriously, you will find that there are now posts on this site back
to 2004, which is before this site existed.
You can either:
A. Ask me where I got the time machine
B. Assume that all the posts were imported from livejournal using
wordpress’s import feature
C. Go and eat ice cream because that’s what is really important.

Yesterday I went to the eye doctor mostly because of random headaches.
No problem with pressure, perhaps a bit of allergy got drops to get rid
of that.
When I was there I decided to ask about something I’d been thinking
about for a long time – a cornea transplant.
I was rushed off to different rooms.
The first was a jolly old chap with a british accent who was quite friendly.
Ok, he wasn’t the first, but the first after glaucoma dude poked my eye
with random pressure gauges that of course didn’t work until they got
the special extra pokey one to tell me my pressure is just fine.
You know those things they put your head on to look at your eyes?
Well, I am certain there is a special head-presser lady who is hired
specifically to push your head into place and put one hand on the back
and the other on top to make sure you’re not going anywhere.
They seem to be programmed based on the doctor’s voice because once the
doctor began to talk, the head-presser lady activated her programming
and… pressed my head into place and the doctor waved her off, he just
wanted to talk.
The first thing to do when thinking about a cornea transplant is to see
if there is any benefit. One way to do that is to scan the retina and
see how it’s doing.
I went down into the basement in a creaky old elevator with a rattling door.
I was shown a comfortable bed which I was told i could lay down on and
close my eyes like I’m sleeping.
Wonderful. Then, the slime.
Cold, slimy paste was drawn carefully on my upper eye lid. The odd thing
about the stuff is that it never seemed to get any warmer with time.
Then a lady pressed mysterious buttons on what I imagined was a small
touch screen and slowly began to navigate some sort of probe through the
slimescape of my upper eyelid.
The mysterious machine beeped softly to itself. Sometimes it beeped in
an annoyed sort of voice and she had to retrace her slithering probe
back over that spot again.
She walked away leaving me half-asleep still decorated with slime to
converse with someone who called her sister. I thought, uh-oh, what have
I gotten myself into. A hospital in South India run by Nuns? Well, there
goes my ideas of flirting with the nurses.
After that we waited around for I’m not sure what, but now that I think
about it was probably the results of the scan.
Back up the creaky elevator to the cornea specialist who looked at my
eye and the scans again.
Then he explained the dangers and answered some questions.
I have been thinking about this for four years now and I told them it’d
be an adventure and that I don’t have any expectation of being able to
see again. To tell the truth, I walk around much better with my eyes
closed. I tend to run into things when my eyes are open.
I asked a lot of questions to show I knew and understood the process and
that I understood. I pretended to consider deeply before agreeing to
sign up for the cornea waiting list.
They told me there’s an eye bank there at the hospital. My mind ran off
in silly directions.
How much interest does the eye bank have?
Credit or debit?
How many eyeballs fit into one account?
I asked how long after the eye arrives must they transplant.
They said, about five days after harvesting. Did they think eyeballs
were like rice?
They said that it’s much better to harvest and transplant the very day
that the donor dies.
It’s a little disconcerting because since I’m young, they need to find a
young healthy cornea for me.
I want to know about the person I get a cornea from, but I doubt they’ll
tell me.
After filling out the necessary paperwork, they said they’d call me when
they had some suitable tissue – one to six weeks.
Let the adventure begin!

Wow! It has been a few years since I came here.
I can’t believe LJ still exists, that people are still here and that my account is still here.
Anyway, I am writing to you all from southern India in a small village by the side of the velayani lake outside of Trivandrum, in the state of Kerala.
Last I wrote I think I was moving to Hawaii. Well, I worked there for a while teaching braille until I got a scholarship to study leadership here in India at the International Institute for Social Entrepreneurs.
I’ve been here since January 15, 2010 and will finish my course December 18, 2010.
So, let me know, who still reads these posts?
David Section

Q: With Jamie! says:Daiverd, there’s a reason Heinlein calls these the Crazy Years
Q: With Jamie! says:Russia is also cutting oil output
David says:the US has had a defense policy of being able to fight two wars at once, but with the afghan and iraw wars they’re
seeing that doesn’t work no more because we’re barely holding on and they’re minicountries, not china and russia, so
they’re going scramble scramble what do we do
David says:iraq
David says:and if we find we’re outclassed you’re supposed to win on one front while just holding the other then winning on
that one
David says:which is stupid for today’s world
Q: With Jamie! says:very
David says:it’s all just pointless stupidness why can’t people go, get along
David says:instead we’ll build more and they’ll build more, and then someone will throw a shoe and the world will blowup
David says:lol guy who threw shoe at bush got 3 years in prison
Q: With Jamie! says:People are the suck
David says:I will open arcade where you can throw shoes at bush
David says:10points for the nose
David says:and I’ll be executed for treason
David says:and you can build a monument on mongoosemoo
David says:and CIA will hear about it and there will be secret agents on mongoose.moo.mud.org
David says:and they’ll go a secret agent moos loudly
David says:and kazemi will say, rediculous
Q: With Jamie! says:smirk
David says:snort

I am using esekeyd to run programs with the media buttons but certain ones type randomness into whatever program I happen to be running.
Check out the info pages for loadkeys, showkey, and keymaps.
Use showkey to get the codes for your media buttons, they’ll come up as hex which is ok or decimal is fine too
on my system decimal
113 = mute
114 = volume down
115 = volume up
the other buttons are 163, 164, 165, and 166
cd /usr/share/keymap/i386/qwerty
gunzip defkeymap.kmap.gz
nano defkeymap.kmap
search for our numbers (^w) and make them all
keycode xxx =
if the number isn’t there, add it
keycode 113 =
keycode 114 =
keycode 115 =
…etc…
exit and save (^x)
gzip defkeymap.kmap
loadkeys -sd
Happy media button pressing without random chars!
Note: you want to add all multimedia buttons even if they don’t seem to write anything because some of them write null chars for some reason.
Daiverd

It was only a few short days ago that I was happily galumphing along on my Windows Vista-enabled PC-compatible laptop when I got the brilliant idea that I should update my soundcard drivers…
To make a short story long, I broke windows horribly and installed linux. I just ordered my first pizza using a text browser called lynx.