Friday, September 30, 2005
((a+1)^a) = (a^(a+1))
following on from yesterday's brain fart; there must be a number where
((a+1)^a) = (a^(a+1))
so: how does this work again?
((a+1)^a) = (a^(a+1))
so: how does this work again?
// posted by werner @ 8:38:00 am 
Thursday, September 29, 2005
((a+1)^a) vs. (a^(a+1))
as I fell asleep last night I noticed that only for a=1 and a=2 is ((a+1)^a) > (a^(a+1)).
why is this?
I know, it's pretty arb.
| # | (a^(a+1)) | ((a+1)^a) | who's bigger? |
| 1 | 1 | 2 | ((a+1)^a) |
| 2 | 8 | 9 | ((a+1)^a) |
| 3 | 81 | 64 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 4 | 1024 | 625 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 5 | 15625 | 7776 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 6 | 279936 | 117649 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 7 | 5764801 | 2097152 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 8 | 134217728 | 43046721 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 9 | 3486784401 | 1000000000 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 10 | 1E+11 | 25937424601 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 11 | 3.13843E+12 | 7.43008E+11 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 12 | 1.06993E+14 | 2.32981E+13 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 13 | 3.93738E+15 | 7.93715E+14 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 14 | 1.55568E+17 | 2.91929E+16 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 15 | 6.56841E+18 | 1.15292E+18 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 16 | 2.95148E+20 | 4.86612E+19 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 17 | 1.40631E+22 | 2.18591E+21 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 18 | 7.08235E+23 | 1.04127E+23 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 19 | 3.759E+25 | 5.24288E+24 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 20 | 2.09715E+27 | 2.78218E+26 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 21 | 1.22694E+29 | 1.55194E+28 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 22 | 7.51141E+30 | 9.07846E+29 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 23 | 4.80251E+32 | 5.55723E+31 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 24 | 3.20097E+34 | 3.55271E+33 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 25 | 2.22045E+36 | 2.36774E+35 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 26 | 1.60059E+38 | 1.64232E+37 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 27 | 1.19725E+40 | 1.18377E+39 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 28 | 9.28075E+41 | 8.85409E+40 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 29 | 7.44629E+43 | 6.86304E+42 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 30 | 6.17673E+45 | 5.50619E+44 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 31 | 5.29144E+47 | 4.56719E+46 | (a^(a+1)) |
| 32 | 4.67681E+49 | 3.91243E+48 | (a^(a+1)) |
// posted by werner @ 4:37:00 pm
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Vipassana
just registered for Vipassana 10-day course in December
Anita sez:
You know that it is advisable to start meditating before the course aswell. Apparently you should be able to do at least 2-hours...
I repliez:
*cough* - I'll try to learn from the cat
Anita sez:
You know that it is advisable to start meditating before the course aswell. Apparently you should be able to do at least 2-hours...
I repliez:
*cough* - I'll try to learn from the cat
// posted by werner @ 10:39:00 am
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Abu Ghraib ringleader weds 'other woman' he seduced during affair with Lynndie
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,2089-1612560,00.html
IF a television movie of the Abu Ghraib prisoner abuse scandal is ever made, the grotesque pictures of naked Iraqi detainees stacked in a human pyramid may be merely the backdrop to a saga of obsession, infidelity and betrayal, writes Sarah Baxter.
Charles Graner, a former corporal who is serving a 10-year sentence for his role as the ringleader of a sadistic group of army reservists, recently married a fellow guard but is not allowed to see his bride because of her complicity in the abuse of inmates at Abu Ghraib.
The new wife is not Private Lynndie England, who appeared in some of the worst photographs and is mother of his seven-month-old son, but former specialist Megan Ambuhl.
Inside Abu Ghraib, the thuggish Graner, 36, was quite a catch. His ex-wife Staci Morris, said: “There were so many men there and so few women, and he had two. What does that tell you?” Graner kept news of his wedding to Ambuhl secret. England found out a few days before her court martial opened this month. She told the courtroom artist who was sketching her former lover: “Don’t forget the horns and the goatee.”
It seems that, more and more, the barrage of information that we get presented with every day means that we, by neccesity, move on and forget about atrocities, calamities and disasters at an increasingly absurd rate.
Katrina who?
IF a television movie of the Abu Ghraib prisoner abuse scandal is ever made, the grotesque pictures of naked Iraqi detainees stacked in a human pyramid may be merely the backdrop to a saga of obsession, infidelity and betrayal, writes Sarah Baxter.
Charles Graner, a former corporal who is serving a 10-year sentence for his role as the ringleader of a sadistic group of army reservists, recently married a fellow guard but is not allowed to see his bride because of her complicity in the abuse of inmates at Abu Ghraib.
The new wife is not Private Lynndie England, who appeared in some of the worst photographs and is mother of his seven-month-old son, but former specialist Megan Ambuhl.
Inside Abu Ghraib, the thuggish Graner, 36, was quite a catch. His ex-wife Staci Morris, said: “There were so many men there and so few women, and he had two. What does that tell you?” Graner kept news of his wedding to Ambuhl secret. England found out a few days before her court martial opened this month. She told the courtroom artist who was sketching her former lover: “Don’t forget the horns and the goatee.”
It seems that, more and more, the barrage of information that we get presented with every day means that we, by neccesity, move on and forget about atrocities, calamities and disasters at an increasingly absurd rate.
Katrina who?
// posted by werner @ 4:35:00 pm
Monday, September 26, 2005
10K
ran the Gun Run 10K in 45:16 yesterday.
it felt very good to know that I could do 4:30 again
29:58! how crazy is that? as is 36:56.
bliss
it felt very good to know that I could do 4:30 again
Place Last Name First Name Age Sex Time
1 NTONGANA ZOLANI 25 M 29:58
14 XINIWE ZINTLE 18 F 36:56
50 PYKE WERNER 28 M 45:19
29:58! how crazy is that? as is 36:56.
bliss
// posted by werner @ 4:42:00 pm
dread
w/u'ed on E2 for the first time in more than 2 years - dread
don't know how it will do - is it important?
don't know how it will do - is it important?
// posted by werner @ 12:30:00 pm
Friday, September 23, 2005
last few days
Hurricane Rita is on it's way through the Gulf of Mexico and I can't help feeling that we've seen this before and will again.
In Houston, highways resembled something out of a disaster movie, according to the Houston Chronicle:
Sixteen hours to San Antonio and Dallas. Eleven hours to Austin. With over a million people trying to flee vulnerable parts of the Houston area, Hurricane Rita will be a nightmare even if Galveston doesn't take a direct hit. . Trying to leave Houston on I-10, Ella Corder drove 15 hours to go just 13 miles today.
Despite weakening to Category 4, the storm was still packing winds of 145 miles per hour and appeared headed toward eastern Texas and western Louisiana. The area is thick with refineries and other chemical plants.
Yesterday I received a gift from the setting sun on the beach at Scarborough - a perfectly green sea urchin shell.
I've also made a compilation for St Ad and Momo
high camp
1. The Coral........I Remember When
2. .................Shadows Fall (edit)
3. Cypress Hill.....I Wanta Get High
4. Fela Kuti........Gentleman (edit)
5. The Doors........LA Woman (with intro)
6. DJ Earworm.......No One Takes Your Freedom
7. .................Stairway to Bootleg Heaven
8. The Coral........Calendars and Clocks (edit)
Music: Laurie Anderson - O Superman (somehow very appropriate)
So hold me, Mom, in your long arms. So hold me,
Mom, in your long arms.
In your automatic arms. Your electronic arms.
In your arms.
So hold me, Mom, in your long arms.
Your petrochemical arms. Your military arms.
In your electronic arms.
// posted by werner @ 11:45:00 am
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Nothing lasts...but nothing is lost[1]
very powerful psilo experience under the orange tree on Saturday
am still trying to piece together the outcome of it and my maniac, run-around, phone everyone response to it.
the best sense I can make of it is from what I wrote down after phoning Anita
I am ready to start and I survived
that's about it.
[1] T. McKenna - "Nothing lasts... nothing lasts. Everything is changing into something else. Nothing's wrong. Nothing is wrong. Everything is on track. William Blake said nothing is lost and I believe that we all move on."
// posted by werner @ 7:54:00 am
Friday, September 09, 2005
date get a fuckingtattoo blog it
squid via /usr/X11R6/bin/date on 150.100.1.125
c:\werner\doit.txt via notepad at 15:00
blogged it
c:\werner\doit.txt via notepad at 15:00
blogged it
// posted by werner @ 8:49:00 am
around town
some phodies from around town
several old houses still have signs like these on their back garden gates
aaah... I love dogs
several old houses still have signs like these on their back garden gates
aaah... I love dogs
// posted by werner @ 8:07:00 am
Thursday, September 08, 2005
LAX
watched first episode of LAX (starring Heather Locklear and Blair Underwood) last nite.
thought it pretty cool - the net disagrees
http://www.newyorkmetro.com/nymetro/arts/tv/reviews/9863/index.html
... LAX (Mondays; 10 to 11 p.m.) you’d think would be surefire. Heather Locklear and Blair Underwood each want to run an international airport, but between drunken pilots who want to go back to the Balkans, illegal immigrants from the Philippines, and missing children and runaway dogs and a drug bust and a bomb scare, they must learn to share, with Heather in charge of the runways and Blair the baggage carousels—Miss Outside and Mister Inside. Meanwhile, all around them, human-interest stories are contagious and ought to be quarantined. The problem is that we are told that we are having fun instead of our having fun without being told.
http://www.popmatters.com/tv/reviews/l/lax-2004.shtml
The pressing story for LAX is exactly this: how a major airport conducts business. It might be funny, darkly satirical, maybe surreal, even campy (again, the Locklear factor). In any shape that's not so blandly conventional as this series, it's hard to imagine a more compelling subject these days, or a more alarming one.
http://tvmegasite.net/prime/reviews/2004/lax.shtml
http://www.chucklehound.com/reviews/102.html
thought it pretty cool - the net disagrees
http://www.newyorkmetro.com/nymetro/arts/tv/reviews/9863/index.html
... LAX (Mondays; 10 to 11 p.m.) you’d think would be surefire. Heather Locklear and Blair Underwood each want to run an international airport, but between drunken pilots who want to go back to the Balkans, illegal immigrants from the Philippines, and missing children and runaway dogs and a drug bust and a bomb scare, they must learn to share, with Heather in charge of the runways and Blair the baggage carousels—Miss Outside and Mister Inside. Meanwhile, all around them, human-interest stories are contagious and ought to be quarantined. The problem is that we are told that we are having fun instead of our having fun without being told.
http://www.popmatters.com/tv/reviews/l/lax-2004.shtml
The pressing story for LAX is exactly this: how a major airport conducts business. It might be funny, darkly satirical, maybe surreal, even campy (again, the Locklear factor). In any shape that's not so blandly conventional as this series, it's hard to imagine a more compelling subject these days, or a more alarming one.
http://tvmegasite.net/prime/reviews/2004/lax.shtml
http://www.chucklehound.com/reviews/102.html
// posted by werner @ 10:34:00 am
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
demolition
this orange crab-like machine is busy chewing through the front of an office block in Claremont which will be turned into high-end apartments (starting at 2.59mil?) soonest.
4k treadmill: 17:32
// posted by werner @ 8:55:00 am
Monday, September 05, 2005
too cute by half?
margarita's at Fat C@ctus yesterday with K&C.
ended up looking at `aawww... cute` cat photos on various phones - *sigh* old age...
then went to park to play soccer with Quenton and neighbourhood thugs - got destroyed.
ended up looking at `aawww... cute` cat photos on various phones - *sigh* old age...
then went to park to play soccer with Quenton and neighbourhood thugs - got destroyed.
// posted by werner @ 10:26:00 am
Friday, September 02, 2005
Tropical Dream
This is from , I guess, 1997 or 98 when I was living in the Brumeria townhouse with my brother.
Originally in wobbly/wavy print(printed on a dot matrix with plain A4 paper wobbled while printing) with outline sketches in black ink.
It's about a dream I had while living in Brumeria.
What I remember of the dream is an image of a wooden crate, at night, on the wooden floor of the bedroom that I inherited from my brother in the Kleynhans street house.
I'm putting it here with a new title and minor modifications.
Tropical Dream
To my suburban house
Was delivered, at night, a crate
Of 'nanas from Panama, Bolivia,
Columbia - it didn't say.
On the lid, I pried it free
Then stood not crouched still barefoot
In the dark ignoring
The warning in print in ink.
And hands of fruit spilt to the floor
Like yellow lumped spiders by corridor walls
And around my feet as I crouched to look
I picked a bunch dripping, humid and wet.
So unlike what we live with, glass that reflects
Stones that slip, colds, regret.
These fruits, radiation free - possibly poisonously so
Had traveled miraculously,
Improbably at least, to this end
And distant, until of the continent's sun.
Their tase, I knew - even through the skin
Carries the sound, the sun of the South,
The insides with seeds,
At the back of my mouth.
And peeling the skins and eating the fruit,
One by one, you'll sink into wood.
When bedclothes become unbearably hot
And dreams return of what you forgot.
When the crate is eaten and the print is read
The seeds still grow to trees in your head.
And you hope to touch, improbable at best,
Southern warm seas where in time you will rest.
Originally in wobbly/wavy print(printed on a dot matrix with plain A4 paper wobbled while printing) with outline sketches in black ink.
It's about a dream I had while living in Brumeria.
What I remember of the dream is an image of a wooden crate, at night, on the wooden floor of the bedroom that I inherited from my brother in the Kleynhans street house.
I'm putting it here with a new title and minor modifications.
Tropical Dream
To my suburban house
Was delivered, at night, a crate
Of 'nanas from Panama, Bolivia,
Columbia - it didn't say.
On the lid, I pried it free
Then stood not crouched still barefoot
In the dark ignoring
The warning in print in ink.
And hands of fruit spilt to the floor
Like yellow lumped spiders by corridor walls
And around my feet as I crouched to look
I picked a bunch dripping, humid and wet.
So unlike what we live with, glass that reflects
Stones that slip, colds, regret.
These fruits, radiation free - possibly poisonously so
Had traveled miraculously,
Improbably at least, to this end
And distant, until of the continent's sun.
Their tase, I knew - even through the skin
Carries the sound, the sun of the South,
The insides with seeds,
At the back of my mouth.
And peeling the skins and eating the fruit,
One by one, you'll sink into wood.
When bedclothes become unbearably hot
And dreams return of what you forgot.
When the crate is eaten and the print is read
The seeds still grow to trees in your head.
And you hope to touch, improbable at best,
Southern warm seas where in time you will rest.
// posted by werner @ 1:11:00 pm
