(no subject)
If the army offers you a job that isn't about killin, take that shit.
My boss gave me 4 days to make a 12 slide powerpoint presentation for him that i gave yesterday about "linguistics", that's three slides per workday. I've had to absently attend meetings with the branch of my directorate to see which companies are fit for contracting. I learned that, in the long run, data-mining software is completely affordable. I am also trained in the handling of information so as not to let it slip from the empire's grasp. Aside from that, I sit in my cubicle, eat my lunch and do "research" about "linguistics" and "machine translation".
Today my boss told me to "go evaluate the Chinese translation engine" over in the lab. The programmers didn't even know that there was one, but they said "OK" and brought me to a big server that had a fold-out console where you could run multiple operating systems, say, linux and windows, at the same time in separate GUI frames on virtual machines. The programmer forgot the password and the only other guy who knew it was in Iraq, so I just went back to my cubicle and read a book called "The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind". It's a good book. Reading doesn't make you any better a thinker.
I met George downstairs some time around 2 and he had been to place in philly where they teach you how to make simple circuit boards and shit. He had made an electronic magic eightball called "Decision Maker". I think this is an excellent invention and everyone should have one.
On our way out, the nice ladies at the front desk gave me donuts.
Earlier today I got my first ever ultrasound because my poop as of recent has been sort of grey-ish. A lot like dryer lint. I was lead to a dim room where an aging albeit beautiful indian woman told me i had to take my shirt off. Then I laid down and she blasted high-frequency radiation into my abdomen, checking my gallbladder, kidneys, liver, stomach and pancreas, telling me every few seconds to take "short, short breath" or "deep, deep breath" or "deepest, deepest breath" or "stop breathing", and when held, quick and melodic, "hold your breath, hold your breath, hold your breath". The prod, the thing at the end of the cord connected to the machine, the ultrasound blaster, is dipped in a hot clear goo that is rubbed all over you in the process. The closest I've ever been to meditation/hypnosis. I even got to see what the echoes of my insides look like when rendered on a computer screen.
My boss gave me 4 days to make a 12 slide powerpoint presentation for him that i gave yesterday about "linguistics", that's three slides per workday. I've had to absently attend meetings with the branch of my directorate to see which companies are fit for contracting. I learned that, in the long run, data-mining software is completely affordable. I am also trained in the handling of information so as not to let it slip from the empire's grasp. Aside from that, I sit in my cubicle, eat my lunch and do "research" about "linguistics" and "machine translation".
Today my boss told me to "go evaluate the Chinese translation engine" over in the lab. The programmers didn't even know that there was one, but they said "OK" and brought me to a big server that had a fold-out console where you could run multiple operating systems, say, linux and windows, at the same time in separate GUI frames on virtual machines. The programmer forgot the password and the only other guy who knew it was in Iraq, so I just went back to my cubicle and read a book called "The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind". It's a good book. Reading doesn't make you any better a thinker.
I met George downstairs some time around 2 and he had been to place in philly where they teach you how to make simple circuit boards and shit. He had made an electronic magic eightball called "Decision Maker". I think this is an excellent invention and everyone should have one.
On our way out, the nice ladies at the front desk gave me donuts.
Earlier today I got my first ever ultrasound because my poop as of recent has been sort of grey-ish. A lot like dryer lint. I was lead to a dim room where an aging albeit beautiful indian woman told me i had to take my shirt off. Then I laid down and she blasted high-frequency radiation into my abdomen, checking my gallbladder, kidneys, liver, stomach and pancreas, telling me every few seconds to take "short, short breath" or "deep, deep breath" or "deepest, deepest breath" or "stop breathing", and when held, quick and melodic, "hold your breath, hold your breath, hold your breath". The prod, the thing at the end of the cord connected to the machine, the ultrasound blaster, is dipped in a hot clear goo that is rubbed all over you in the process. The closest I've ever been to meditation/hypnosis. I even got to see what the echoes of my insides look like when rendered on a computer screen.