i don't get this whole unboxing thing...

Last week my assassin robot from the future arrived. I don't even remember ordering the thing. According to the invoice, I bought it on woot six months ago. Still doesn't ring a bell.. Anyways, I put it to work tracking those responsible for the new terminator show having a repeat only 3 weeks in. Then I checked the link and found that they claim a new one for tonight. Whups.. Already sent it off. Live and learn. [edit]tvguide.com clearly shows no new episode tonight.. conscience clear[/edit]

There is something bothering me about the Terminator series, though. Not the show specifically, although it's rampant abuse of time-travel makes it no exception.

If I am Skynet 2071, and I can send a robot back in time to 1980-something to kill Sarah Connor, what is to stop me from sending back a few robots to help Skynet 2015 win the war before it even gets to me? There's no question of the san points lost in time travel, whatever I remember seeing that the future me did is obviously justified if it worked. If it didn't work, I'll have to send back twice as much muscle.

The only problem is that the plucky humans have stolen my time-travel technology, and are sending back some of their pluckiest fellow humans (and some killer robots who have been programmed to do good).

Doesn't this lead to a sort of temporal arms race, with greater and greater numbers on both sides being sent back to flash-point time-events, to the point where it's not even possible for anyone to understand how the war would have started without both of us having sent back armies of robots to make it start?

It's infuriorating.

At risk of becoming family circus...

My son came to me with two golf clubs, requesting my assistance in dragon slaying.

We walked to his room, I let him equip me with one of the weapons, but the dragon failed to appear. Shortly therafter I returned the club to his care.

He came back to me.

"Daddy, can you help me fight the dragon?"
"I need to work on dinner, son."
"Daddy, please, I need you to help me."
"This is a battle you may have to face alone."
"You can have the yellow club!"

Who's with me?

If you should youtube that song, i believe the term to be used is "fist-pumping"..

The boy is keeping me a bit busy for a longer blog entry. Gotten a little annoyed at my DS game, so the train rides are kind of dragging, perhaps you'll see something tomorrow...

Perhaps not.

Zero equals one.

But only for unusually large values of zero.

I find myself checking my blog every day on my Sprint Mogul ($$), but don't always find the energy to update it.

We're seeing a light at the end of the tunnel at work right now, most should be able to guess what that light is. Choo-Choo!

Fridays are better when you feel like you have accomplished something... I feel muc more sanguine now than I did a week ago. Perhaps tonight I will get some of my back burner projects looked at.

[edited to conceal mistake]

Whups...

completely unrelated.. just felt like posting it since I've been re-watching Bebop

Nothing to see here

Move along...

Note to self

And all others driving in the snow..

If you should find yourself in a clean lane, directly behind a snowplow, and should think of passing the beast, please consider whether or not you are actually in that much of a hurry.

I am fine, the car is fine.. So I passed the plow, then realized I didn't like how fast I was going, and put on the brakes. Brakes, it turns out, don't fuction at their best when the tires can't get proper traction. I found myself rounding a broad corner, going downhill, skiing essentially, and hoping desperately not to wrap my car around a signpost. Actually the signpost would have probably lost, but just as glad I didn't find out.

I felt my tires bounce off the curb, all the excess velocity had been killed, and my son got to hear an anglo-saxon noun. He asked, from under his blanket, if I was ok. I told him I was fine, had just been a little scared. This brought me into one of those traditionally endearing conversations with a 3-year old.

"Daddy was just scared."
"Why was daddy scared?"
"Becausee daddy was going too fast."
"Why were you going too fass?"
"It was an accident. A poor decision."
"Why did you have a poo cision?"

Keeping this blog up to date has a low priority, I will make no bones about it. Last week it didn't get touched, even mobile (as I am now), because some wonderful person got me a DS for christmas. She got hers for her birthday, and got plenty of games for it for the xmas, I am borrowing those... Love me some fnal fantasy. Love me some black magery in those games. There may in fact be useful applications of magic that don't inflict pain and suffering on others, but most of those can be replicated with cheap and effective potions.

Stay safe, folks. I was well aware of the hazards of snow driving, and one little choice nearly caused me a wreck. A choice that would have been ok if there had not been a hill so soon after. Scary stuff.