Sunday, May 31, 2015

VOS : Running on Lua Server Pages

Well, it's not much to look at yet. I worked most of the day Sunday (today) getting my first Lua Server page to load and display with an LCARs theme. The navigation map links for the buttons are loaded from an SQLite3 database with LSP painting them down the left side. The Lua pages, resources and web font for the LCARs theme are all pulled from a .zip file which copies them to an in-memory SQLite table for caching.

The configuration is coming from a "vos.ini" file which specifies the port (12) to monitor and it also sets up a discovery service on port 1900 for UPNP messages from all other VOS servers running in the system.

The essential Javascripts are hard compiled into the executable so that nobody can corrupt the "basic kernel" of client scripting where I have found compatible versions of JQuery, Raphael, SVG Conversion and other client side logic that users should not be able to alter. For example, a client can write an all new page based on JQuery but they can't change versions of JQuery which would risk breaking things that are working with incompatible versions.

So the old VOS based on straight HTML is going to be replaced with a dynamic set of pages built by Lua LSPs using JQuery-UI plugins. I have tested all of these libraries on IE 6.0, one of the most common browsers you will find on a thin client you buy for a $1.00 off EBay or elsewhere.

Coming soon will be administrator editing of Lua Server Pages in-situ and archiving into .zip when ready, which will basically allow you to build the website or customize it using the website itself and no other tools but the website.

My testing environment for standalone instances is now Windows NT Embedded 6.0 SP with fat32 and USB plugins. I am running Crazy Browser, a full featured HTML5 compatible browser on NT. It is running pretty good and fast too on a 233mhz PC/104 box.

P.S. Everything you see above is running off a single 634 kb executable, with Lua, web server, SQLite3 and about 32 minimized Javascripts and web resources compiled binaries right into the exe file. This thing may still fit on a floppy when it reaches version 1.0 for release as open source.

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Put Your Faith In The Scienmagistical Power of Scienmagistics

They're right and you're wrong. 

Until they turn out to be totally wrong, at which time they are still right and you are still wrong. Back off man, I'm a scienmagist. Right and wrong have nothing to do with it.

One morning around Columbus Circle in New York I was eating a huge plate of scrambled eggs about six inches high with a guy named "Buffalo Bob," who had a 22 inch arm and once lifted the rear wheels of a 1972 Cadillac Deville on 59th street and put the car on top of a fire hydrant because it had parked him in. (The car was still there 4 days later before they found a tow truck that could lift it off, cops were probably on a manhunt for the crowd of several hundred kids who must've done it) Bob was eating 9-inch greasy sausages on his second plate. The elderly lady next to us, a patrician but slightly snobby woman who looked like she always sorted her recyclables, said "I hope you two know what that is doing to your hearts." Had to give her points for being bold enough to say it out loud.

We looked at each other and began laughing so hard I was afraid one of us would choke on our food. "Lady, Bob here weighs 312 pounds and has a resting pulse of 44. I weigh 223 this morning and have a resting pulse of 32 and my blood pressure is 110/72 as of last week. We will likely outlive every single person in this restaurant, starting with you."

She snorted and gave us a frown that frightened both of us despite our towering frames. You can't talk to crazy people and the craziest people of all are the ones who think televitz is telling them the truth about anything. Remember, if itz on the televitz, itz a lie. Good rule of thumb right there.

When that massive flood of protein digested in my stomach I could feel it coursing through my body leaving me with an extraordinary sensation of well-being that could only result from those eggs being very, very good for me, especially first thing in the morning when their impact on my metabolism seemed to be the highest. Only a person who was just not on speaking terms with their own body could fail to note the correlation. That's what televitz does to you - it becomes an authority that screams down your own ancient wisdom that is the product of a million years of genetic refinement. Televitz is such a powerful evil it can shut down that inner light and replace it with an authoritative sounding voice that tells you that sunlight, fresh air and eggs are bad for you. This is the reason that people pay billions of dollars to buy television stations. It is the prince and the power of the air. Ephesians 2:2.

People in Australia think I'm a strong guy when they find out about me. I was just barely strong enough to give Bob a squat spot in the gym. I never saw anybody like that guy again. The last time I saw Bob he was doing super-slow dips with 300 pounds hanging around his waist. Traumatic stuff to see with the naked eye. Disturbing. The guy was like a human powered demolition crane. I used to tell Bob he could sell his services as a gigantic earth moving device on construction sites in return for all the sausages he could eat.

I always noticed Bob had those peculiar receding periorbital sockets around his eyes like me but for the life of me could not figure out why that was. Sometimes he'd catch me looking closely at him and probably wondered if I had a secret gay crush on him. Actually, I couldn't help but notice we looked like cousins. Sometimes he would make an expression and it was like looking at a family relative, the similar look to the face, eyes and skull shape. Weirdest of all, as a person who never had more than three friends in New York in all the time I was there, Bob and I had spoke briefly for a minute one night after leaving the gym and after that began to fall in together like soldiers stationed on the same brutal campaign at the front. When Bob talked, I heard echoes of my own mind. He was one of my kinsmen. When I saw his great strength I had a kind of pride like you might feel if your brother or uncle was that strong. I felt Bob saw the world with my eyes, shared my ideas, had a similar flavour to his impressions of everything. He'd sometimes go very quiet and serious and take several minutes to think deeply about something I had said in a way ordinary people are simply incapable of. He listened with great curiosity when I talked to him about books he had never read - I could see he wished that he had and was content to hear me recollect them to him. I felt a kind of silent pact between us against "all of them," long before I could put any vocabulary to it. We had to stick together, I thought. There were not many of us in the world. Once Bob told me of how short life might be and how through strength training there was at least one thing you could put your hand to and "do with all your might," quoting from St. Paul. I nodded at what he was saying and marvelled at how it had begun to seem like I knew what he was thinking even when he wasn't speaking. It was a good place inside that head of my kinsman. He was a fundamentally good sort … as long you didn't park him in when we were coming out of the YMCA.

I noticed another thing - even though Bob was quite capable of being an alpha any time he wanted to be, he tended to conduct himself like a beta in almost all the ways that count. Like me, he had a kind of reverential air most of the time when a young girl showed interest, a sort of polite and courteous detachment that appeared to be waiting on her to make all the advances. He was nevertheless much more successful with women in general as was everybody I knew. Once he was giving me the lecture at breakfast about how I only had to make the effort. He said he didn't think I was gay but I was definitely something. I mentioned how he was similar to me in many ways, particularly around women and he told me sometimes we have to adopt "their" ways in doing things or we were destined to be alone. Never elaborated on this "they" and "their," just said it like he assumed I knew exactly what he meant, almost a conspiratorial whisper. I always wanted to ask Bob - how did you know that I automatically understood a whole different order of relationships between men and women? Where could you have possibly acquired a notion like that? I didn't know at the time that Bob and I were descended from the same exogamous matriarchy in which men and women had related to one another in vastly superior fashion to anything we saw amongst these people.

I told Bob how I had been pretty badly hurt the year before by this girl I met while I was working up at the ice cream shop. He told me, "We all got a story like that. The fact is, they all betray each other constantly and we are not designed for all this switch-on, switch-off I love you now I hate you bullsh*t. It is too much for our insides. We have to toughen up and remember, if they hurt us they must not be from our clan they are just others we don't have any business with anyhow. This is the way they sort out their mates and the results speak for themselves. You should accept that it is not you it is their way of doing these things." This seemed to help me quite a bit after he said this. I knew he was right. They were not from our clan. The women in our tribe knew perfectly well how to let you down gently and send you packing without needing to destroy you. If you had asked me what the name of this tribe was, I could not have imagined. I just knew he was right in what he was saying.

My only other friend was a Polynesian named Rohan Rathan who was just about one of the coolest people I had ever known in my entire life. Another good sort. Remnant of the great Neanderthal migration worldwide after the eruption of the super-volcano Toba at 80,000 years which looks suspiciously like somebody detonated an implosion bomb on a dormant volcanic vent. My other friend was Hutchinson Persons, my boss at Street News (obvious melonhead, easiest identification ever). Those two guys and "Buffalo" Bob Bryant were the only people I ever really carried on a conversation with during the six years I lived in New York city.

The YMCA was awesome. Best equipment at the cheapest membership prices. All serious athletes trained there. Then these idiots ruined everything. The problem with Gomorrah is that they can't stay in Gomorrah, got to make everyplace into Gomorrah. You know what happens then. You have to find ten men or else the whole place fries. Very tough survival mode challenge level by God. Nobody has ever gotten the achievement perk.

That's it. The McBurney branch on 125th street. I used to train there 4 days a week, three days HIT and one day aerobic training. This was the YMCA where I went from 164 pounds when I moved to New York City in 1986 to 265 pounds in the fall of 1991 at 12% body fat without ever touching steroids. When I met my wife I had deliberately shaved off 30 pounds so I was at 7% body fat for about a half a year in California. My carefully maintained logs showed I increased my strength nearly 400% in most muscle groups. When I moved to New York I thought curling 50 pounds was about right for 9 reps. In the fall of 1991 I was curling 180 pounds free weight for 18 reps with ease. There was a physical trainer there at the McBurney gym who told me he had never seen anything like that in all the time he had been in gyms. He described it as "Bruce Banner, comic book stuff." This same guy tipped off the police when they were investigating the McBurney gym that I was probably part of the 'roids ring there, I'd have to be because I had essentially mutated overnight into this stone colossus. The police talked to me twice and ended up believing me when I told them I didn't even like to take aspirin and was scared to death of needles.

I got a really funny anecdote about this. The last time I took a shower at the YMCA, I resolved would be the last. I was walking up the stairs from the huge communal showers there (with a towel on) and a hispanic guy who was headed down asked me "What is the mericon situation down there?" I told him, "Wall-to-wall. If you drop your soap down there, remember a new bar is only .99 cents but you will never recover your anal virginity." This hispanic guy was laughing so hard he had tears coming to his eyes and he said "Fugg it, I will just shower in the washroom. That is a one-way only exit ramp." I never forgot this. I never even knew the guy's name but we had a pretty good laugh at that. That would have been the fall of 1991 I think. Seems like hundreds of years ago. That was the last time I ever set foot inside a YMCA. Funny how at the time I thought was miserable. No debts, made a couple hundred a day selling books with no taxes, no worries in the world and no bosses. Could do whatever I wanted whenever I pleased. You don't appreciate freedom until you don't have it anymore. The farther away in time this era in my life gets, the more it seems to glow like some long lost edenic paradise in which I had my human dignity and the future was so amazingly bright. It kept me going despite me being so lonely and seeming to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders most of the time. I had no idea how good it really was. I ate well almost every day and rarely wanted for anything. I enjoyed a sort of tranquillity that modern life is designed to take away as soon as you become engaged in it. Something of that miraculous transformation I went through has to be seen in the lens of an era when I woke up in the morning and didn't have to worry about anything except what I was willing to. You can grow a lot when your system doesn't have that constant, never-ending low level stress weighing on you around the clock. Your rent. Your mortgage. Your job. Your marriage. The bills. Breaking even. The next pay check. That stuff makes just getting enough sleep to recover back to zero the next day a major accomplishment.

Sunday, May 24, 2015

Jim Penman's Book Is Out And Some Humans Can Read, Apparently

Within certain limits they may even understand what they are reading.

I am not optimistic about the book's impact on anything because it is too important and too significant ... which usually means it will be ignored. That in itself is part of the decline.

I would say that the Nobel Prize committee is completely asleep at the wheel if Jim Penman does not get a Nobel Prize for this book and for his original The Hungry Ape. They demonstrate their complete irrelevance by dismissing it. I read Alfred Nobel's biography. This is the reason he founded that tradition and paid for it to become an international arbiter of things that contribute to the advancement of mankind.

Notice Jim's comment about being shut out of academia for being K-Selected. It is a virtual moratorium on sanity.

I know that the production of obscenely confused leftist madmen is a result of the maladaptive development that precedes the expression of the DRD74A gene and the stem cells for growth of the amygdala. It is terribly ironic and also somehow poetic justice that gang-raping the most K-selected race of humans that has ever existed resulted in mankind being overrun by R-selected lunatics at the end of each civilization. In those rare cases when certain genes for Neanderthal oxygen transfer develop correctly in your genetic makeup, they can leave you with the aerobic capacity of an Olympic decathlete. The other 90% of the time they will leave you an asthmatic wreck. You might call it the revenge of the Neanderthal. Think about that every time you see one of those guys in a tie-dyed pink shirt screaming that capitalism is destroying the earth. It's a bad idea for such disparate peoples to mix. A certain genetic hygiene which appears to operate with a sardonic streak on those unwise enough to attempt to build Babel again.

Friday, May 22, 2015

Channeling The Sun Underground

This is an oldie but goodie.

If you've ever spent more than a minute thinking about it, you have probably thought that a large array of solar panels advertises your location not only from the ground but also the air.

I tried experimenting with camouflage nets over my panels in Brisbane. It instantly cuts the power to half on any panel beneath one.

With the new optical fibers described in the article above (now available commercially and soon ubiquitous) you could have barely discernible conduits aboveground directing sunlight to your power room deep underneath with the fiber right above the panel. From the air, invisible to even the lowest flyovers.

This is also great for protecting your panels from exposure to the elements, close-by nuclear blast waves, earthquakes and hailstorms, scavengers vandalising them and who knows what else. The maintenance of your power system is all in the same room, you could service the solar panels without leaving the shelter, keep them clean and productive for many years past their expiration dates aboveground.

Monday, May 18, 2015

Declining Societies : Solutions Not Welcome

Very interesting link by a reader. I was already aware of three fourths of the article but some of it was brand new to me. 

Declining civilisations are a lot like a Monty Python skit where people are screaming a bridge is about to collapse and they are inquiring of a crowd if any of them are engineers. Several real engineers hold their hands up but nobody calls on them. Instead, they ask a baker, a hairdresser and a florist what they think should be done about the dangerously unstable bridge. The engineers finally get discouraged and they trudge off downcast. As soon as they are out of frame, the bridge collapses. That's the basic story of the end of the previous 40 or so civilisations we know about.

A friend of mine a couple of years back told me about the Roman Emperor given a tour of the watermills at the edge of the empire where two guys had figured out how to do the work of a thousand slaves grinding bread flour simply by using water power. I went off and read a little bit more of the background on the watermill in the last days of Rome. Sure enough, the late Roman Empire had a half a dozen inventions that could have transformed their lives overnight and reversed their fortunes. Nobody had the brains to try to deploy any of them as solutions. Instead, civil servants were coming up with oxen powered warships (decks covered with manure waist deep in a day) and mice trained to catch grain beetles to control spoilage (Mice poo and fleas as opposed to tighter barrels, which worked in the Byzantine Empire). The exact sort of solutions you would expect to get from a guy with an IQ around average and way too much authority. Stuff that just made things worse.

I continue to be amazed in the present era where you compare the confidence and self-assurance of the self-appointed ruling class on television with the results they are getting. You'd think that with their societies crumbling around them on a daily basis, they might be humbled and start to wonder if the direction they are urging us all in is actually working. It is their special gift to be nearly impervious to feedback. No matter what happens they continue to blame the problem squarely on the existing limitations on government power (which are increasingly non-existent) and believe with religious style zeal that the earthly paradise is always just one more emergency legislation session away. Only a temporary extension of State power, you see … until the "crisis" passes. Except every week there seems to be a new "crisis."

Saturday, May 16, 2015

An Old Painting Of Neanderthals Before Censorship and Thought Crime

Check out the woman's red hair. Yet scientists claim this was only recently discovered to be a common Neanderthal trait as a result of genetic sequencing. Here it is in an old painting. If my own feelings are anything to rely upon I reckon Neanderthals generally esteemed redheads to be the most beautiful of all women.
These conceptions were drawn in the fifties because there was widespread knowledge of the Neanderthal skulls that had been found in the 1920's and 1930's and what are being called Denisovan skulls today. Scientists began to realize back then that Neanderthals were fully developed human beings barely distinguishable from modern people. Fragments of skull found by German anthropologists in the 1930's showed the same faces that people like me have today.

Notice the dog in the woman's lap. Of course, the Neanderthal caves were filled with the bones of dogs. Sixty years later, they tell people the reason there were dog bones in Neanderthal caves is that the Neanderthals must have been eating them. They claim the same for all the bones of horses there and the bones of cows. They claim that horse skeletons found in a line outside a Neanderthal cave (clearly tied off to a hitching rail) were all slaughtered and eaten and then had their bones laid out in neat rows assembled like they had simply perished there. The humans actually believe this stuff. You wouldn't think anybody would buy that story but … the humans believe it.

If you asked an anthropologist in 1954 when modern looking Neanderthals had been found he'd laugh and say everybody knew they had found them in Amud in 1925 during excavations there. After Israel got control over the site, official history books were issued claiming the Tokyo archaeologists were the first on the scene in 1961 and no previous digs had taken place there. What happened to the skulls all displayed in science books in the 1940's? Israel removed them from public view after the end of the second World War and they were never seen again. Today, if you ask to see the Amud skulls, they show you a picture of something that looks like a baboon.

Modern people think the site analysis they have heard published in the last ten years must mean these fossils were discovered recently. In fact, the recent revisions are hasty, desperate attempts to correct the errors adhered to all through the 70's and 80's which made a clean break with previous ideas that had formerly been considered widespread in academia. In 1955, everybody knew Neanderthals were fully modern humans except more muscular and better looking. After the culture wars of the 1960's seemed to have effectively burned all the libraries on earth, the new mythology of the hump troll was created out of thin air. This nascent tradition of making up science for political ends became a huge industry that prospered for the next half century. Soon the early Neanderthal palaeontology was relabelled "proto-Neanderthal" and finally shoved down the memory hole so hard that by the early 1990's you could be convinced that all of that at the start of the previous century never happened.

How did I find out about all of this and where did I get all these banned books from? I got them from my street business selling used secondhand books in New York in the 1990s where I often dealt in the remnants of the estates of dead men from wealthy rent-controlled apartments around Central Park. These rich guys had tons of books that had not been printed in decades and were largely forbidden for the peasants to read or even possess. I used to sell their paperbacks and sit down with these hardbacks on a milk crate flipped upside down and read all day long, occasionally pausing to open my hand for money from a customer buying a book off my table in front of Union Station.

I read and I read and I read. Then I read some more. Day after day, week after week, month after month. I read in the open air and I read under an umbrella. Sometimes at the end of the day when I pushed my books back over to the West Side warehouse I would be so engrossed in a book that I tried to push and read at the same time. Months turned into years and I read all the non-existent, out of print forbidden literature and secret books that the world had left from the shelves of dead men whose heirs had only wanted their money and left their books for the garbage. The doorman of that man's apartment took $10 from me and let me fill up a cardboard box. I was just a nobody, a loser who sold books on the sidewalk in New York City. I was also a person who managed to read almost all of the books they no longer wish to see in public circulation anywhere. What they said should remain in their private libraries for their own edification, I read sitting on a milk crate. The privileges that billionaires enjoyed were also extended to me because I was at the bottom of the food chain when those men died and nobody was there to see to it their secret taboo library was burned.

Those primitive Neanderthals with their high speed precision jeweller's drills. Sapiens says he was only putting these people out of their misery when he genocided them and he was doing their women a favor by turning them into camp whores. The children were yoked to posts and forced to make spear points and arrow heads and quality axes and daggers. The ancient Celtics said the "Tuatha De Danann" had such craft that any weapon their children made was superior to anything any ordinary mortal could ever fashion.

Thursday, May 14, 2015

Modern Medicine : Baby Killing Assembly Line

Just one anecdote in a sea of infants sent to Davy Jones locker by wild-eyed cranks with stethoscopes swinging around their necks.

At some point, no matter how slow you are, you'd have to start asking if this is all just a misunderstanding or misplaced confidence. Anybody would start to wonder if this was really just a product of human ignorance and not planned culling of the "useless eaters."

All through the seventies and eighties books were published in truckloads urging governments to stem population growth with stealth measures. Paul Ehrlich and his hordes of eugenicists dominated academics and it was almost a required political orthodoxy for scholars to propound if they wanted to get tenure.

Like most people, you probably would balk at seriously considering an idea like that. The problem is that those same people now occupy all the power positions in government.

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Getting Custom Web Fonts (Icon files) To Load On Ancient Browsers (IE6+)

I messed around with this quite a bit before it showed up correctly on some of my cheap thin client testing machines.

This font syntax correctly loads web fonts for browser apps going back to the time when dinosaurs roamed the Earth. IJW (It Just Works). The ultimate polyfill for browsers that fart dust.

Nobody will believe the browser applications I have running on Vault-OS until they see them with their own eyes. It is Raphael that works the magic for me because it knows to switch to VML on the fossil browsers for IE.

Feature #1 On The Cheap, Reusable Vault Suit

A Peltier device on the wrist requiring less than a tenth of an amp adds automatic heating and air conditioning to the suit.

I have always had a plan to build the suit from cheap components available at the hardware store but always had trouble trying to work out a cheap way to cool and heat the suit on very small amounts of energy. I had thought about mounting the Peltier plate behind the neck. Turns out the best place is on the wrist.

They are calling the commercial version Wristify but it is impossible to patent the basic idea, which it turns out is to mount the device at the base of the wrist. That's public domain.

Biometrics have come a long way since I did my first crude experiments with Bluetooth in 2009 to transmit vital signs. There are now cheap all-in-one boards for temperature, heart beat and blood pressure sold widely instead of as individual components. My plan was to use Vault-OS to report on the location of anybody in the Vault at any time and transmit their vital signs. I would add a distress button so somebody could call for help and a distress beacon so they could be found. If the suit was impregnated with silver it would kill odors and if it was made from a rip-stop hemp fiber composite it would last a long time without tearing. For a couple months there I was drawing diagrams constantly to figure out how it would work.