CalvinDude.com

Okay, I know it’s been a while. It’s almost 2 weeks into a new year, and no posts from me! What’s up with that? Well, I blame Bush.

Can’t promise this will get any less sporadic, but at least now I’ve posted something in 2010! And I figure, why not post something on music?

I recently got a new VST library that I plugged into Music Creator 5, which I use for most of my composition since buying my new computer back in May. Music Creator is made by Cakewalk, and I’ve always loved their stuff. The new VST is actually not from them, however. I’m using Garritan’s Personal Orchestra library. At some point, I still want to get Dimension Pro from Cakewalk, but since that costs $250 it’s gonna be a while (thanks for all the change, Hope-ama!).

Anyway, if you wanna know what difference the VST makes, I’ve got a rough-cut version of the second movement of my first MIDI symphony uploaded (the downside is that in the near future I plan on doing a better version, so if you view this post in the archives the following vids may not exist anymore—for which you can blame Bush).

First, the regular MIDI version:

And now the updated version (which sound roughly 97.37 x 10⁹² times better, but who’s counting?

There’s still some volume issues I need to fix in the second version, as well as some orchestrations I’ll change a bit (although you may notice that the percussion line is already different, since the new VST is almost, but not quite, exactly unlike the original MIDI line, so I had to redo it). Plus, I’ll work on the other movements and get them cleaned up and more gooderer sounding.

Until then…well, I’ll try to update this blog every once in a while…but that darn Bush guy might prevent me. Just sayin.

In light of the ongoing goings on in the wonderful world of AGW (Alarmist Global Warming), I thought it might be beneficial to remind scientists what science is supposed to consist of. As opposed to, say, alchemy. Which is when you put a bunch of random numbers in a computer program written by a failed botanist to produce hockey-stick shaped graphs before you hide the decline and throw out the raw data, because what kind of scientist could possibly look at raw data? That’s right: the kind who would write sentence fragments followed by run-on sentences switching from a declarative statement to an interrogative in the middle.

Therefore, I present…

TORTOISE enters ACHILLES’ room. The mythical Greek god is listening to his WalkGod CD player and is oblivious to TORTOISE.

TORTOISE: Achilles? Achilles? (He touches Achilles)

ACHILLES: Egad! What is it?

TORTOISE: Aren’t you worried you’ll ruin your hearing listening to all that noisy racket?

ACHILLES: “Noisy racket”? How can you call this noisy racket! This is none other than the Beegles compilation album, Won.

TORTOISE: Beagles?

ACHILLES: Not beagles, Beegles.

TORTOISE: It’s the same word.

ACHILLES: Almost, but not quite. Beagles are dogs. Beegles is the world’s greatest band ever.

TORTOISE: It still sounds like noise to me. In fact, maybe that’s why they’re called Beegles. They sound like braying dogs!

ACHILLES: (In disgust) They are called Beegles after the great ship HMS Beagle, which St. Darwin rode to the Galapagos Islands.

TORTOISE: St. Darwin! I know about him. He’s the patron saint of selections.

ACHILLES: The very same, only now he’s slightly more advanced.

TORTOISE: That’s somewhat handy. But why haven’t I heard any of this “Beegles” music before?

ACHILLES: Why, you probably have. You just don’t realize it. But I bet if I played a few of their tunes you would recognize them. They’re practically universal. In fact, listen to this song originally from The Scientific Misery Tour.

WALKGOD CD PLAYER: (Singing) I am the apeman, they are the apemen, I am the walnut.

ACHILLES: Surely you must know this song!

TORTOISE: Not at all.

ACHILLES: Linen would be ashamed of you.

TORTOISE: Who?

ACHILLES: The singer. But he’s dead now. (Sadly) Just like Paul.

TORTOISE: I have no idea what you are talking about.

ACHILLES: Never mind that. I’m quite sure you did not enter my room for the sole purpose of telling me that I should not listen to loud music.

TORTOISE: You are correct. I am here to propose an experiment.

ACHILLES: Hold it right there! You haven’t been talking to Zeno again, have you?

TORTOISE: Of course not.

ACHILLES: Are you sure? Sometimes he masquerades as physicist named Douglas Hofstadter.

TORTOISE: I’m positive this has nothing to do with Zeno in any alias.

ACHILLES: So this has absolutely nothing to do with one of his paradoxes?

TORTOISE: No, no. Nothing like that.

ACHILLES: Good, because last time he made me race you and I could never pass you even though I was so much faster than you are. And then he made it impossible for me to move at all because I could never get more than halfway to anywhere. It was all disconcerting for a mythical god to be bound like that.

TORTOISE: I imagine so. But this experiment is nothing like that.

ACHILLES: Okay, fine. What is your experiment?

TORTOISE: I can’t tell you.

ACHILLES: You came in here to tell me you’re going to do an experiment but you can’t tell me what it is?

TORTOISE: Indeed.

ACHILLES: Why should I care about that?

TORTOISE: Well, you’re the subject of the experiment.

ACHILLES: WHAT?!

TORTOISE: Calm down, it’s nothing preposterous.

ACHILLES: How can I trust the word of a turtle?

TORTOISE: You can’t. But I am a tortoise, not a turtle.

ACHILLES: (Scoffing) As if there’s a difference.

TORTOISE: There is a big difference! But that’s not for our current discussion.

ACHILLES: What’s to discuss? You’re conducting an experiment on me. How do I even know you’re licensed to do that?

TORTOISE: You don’t need a license to do science.

ACHILLES: Egad! They let just anyone conduct science now?

TORTOISE: Pretty much. But there are rules to it.

ACHILLES: Rules are good. Who enforces them?

TORTOISE: Scientific consensus.

ACHILLES: You take a census to determine which rules to obey?

TORTOISE: No, I said “consensus” not “census.” Silly mythical Greek god. Consensus is when a bunch of scientists get together and agree on something.

ACHILLES: I don’t know. That doesn’t sound very legit. There was a time a bunch of Persians got together and decided to attack Thermopylae, you know.

TORTOISE: True, but that was only a Persian consensus, not a scientific consensus.

ACHILLES: Oh. (Thinks about it for a minute) Wait, why does that matter?

TORTOISE: Scientific consensus is when scientists, not just Persians, get together and agree on something.

ACHILLES: I see. So no Persians are allowed.

TORTOISE: Persians are allowed, as long as they’re scientists. These scientists determine scientific consensus regardless of what ethnicity they are.

ACHILLES: So you’re saying that scientific consensus can only be determined by scientists.

TORTOISE: Indeed, I am.

ACHILLES: And scientific consensus determines who is a scientist in the first place?

TORTOISE: Again, you are correct.

ACHILLES: (Scratching his mythical chin) So scientific consensus is determined by scientists who are determined by scientific consensus, which is determined by scientists who are determined by scientific…

TORTOISE: Knock it off.

ACHILLES: Seriously, Tortoise, I think you have a problem here. It’s much better if you stick with my method.

TORTOISE: And what method is that?

ACHILLES: I am a mythical Greek god. Therefore, what I say is right.

TORTOISE: But that is an argument from authority!

ACHILLES: No less so than the authority of scientists who invent scientific consensus, I say. Besides, they’re not gods. I am.

TORTOISE: Science is not based on authority though. It’s based on consensus!

ACHILLES: Consensus is itself an authority, isn’t it?

TORTOISE: No, not at all. You’ve got it all backwards. No one person can know whether he or she is right or not. You have to have agreement between more than one person. There is no “authority” involved, because anyone can disagree with anyone else.

ACHILLES: But if they disagree with the consensus, their disagreement is by definition unscientific, isn’t it? And that means it doesn’t “count” so in what manner are they able to disagree?

TORTOISE: Look, you’re trying to make this too complicated.

ACHILLES: It is complicated. My view is much simpler, and one of the rules of science is to do that which is simplest. In my case: I said it, ergo, it’s so. You can’t get any more parsimonious than that!

TORTOISE: Egad! (Realizes what he just said) You made me use one of your words!

ACHILLES: It’s a good word.

TORTOISE: That’s irrelevant. What’s relevant is this: Each individual person has the potential to be wrong, right?

ACHILLES: “Wrong, right” has a nice ring to it.

TORTOISE: Now you’re being obtuse.

ACHILLES: It’s more fun than being abstruse.

TORTOISE: Argh, silly Greek pseudo-god. Do you agree that each individual person has the potential to be wrong?

ACHILLES: Of course. You are, ahem…”wrong right” now. See?

TORTOISE: (Ignoring the comment) If an individual person is wrong, couldn’t that error be pointed out by another person?

ACHILLES: I suppose, so long as the other person wasn’t wrong too. In that case, they would just be reinforcing the error.

TORTOISE: But isn’t it more likely that a group of people will be able to point out the errors in other people’s positions than single people working alone?

ACHILLES: “Single people”? Are you saying scientists have to be married now?

TORTOISE: Argh! You aren’t listening at all!

ACHILLES: Only because you’re not making any sense.

TORTOISE: (Fed up). Look. When you have a group of people, on the whole, the group becomes corrective. Can’t you see that a group consensus is more likely to be right than any individual’s authoritative decree?

ACHILLES: Fine. What you are saying is that you have to listen to everyone else in order to make a valid decision because you might be wrong by yourself.

TORTOISE: That’s close enough.

ACHILLES: Look around the room then. Who is in here?

TORTOISE: (Confused) Me and you. Why?

ACHILLES: You are you, and I am everyone else. Therefore, you have to listen to me.

TORTOISE: Bah, this experiment isn’t getting anywhere now.

ACHILLES: Perhaps it is because it lacks proper method?

TORTOISE glares at ACHILLES for a moment and then leaves. ACHILLES puts his WalkGod back on and presses the Play button.

WALKGOD CD PLAYER: (Singing) I am the apeman, they are the apemen, I am the walnut.

There’s something wrong with this…

Oh yes. They sing about Star Wars…with no Star Wars themes.

Someone brought donuts in to work today. Since I work in a department with mostly women, that means that right now, 5/16ths of a donut remain in the donut box.

A guy would never do this.

See, if there’s five guys in a department and someone brings in four donuts, that means that four guys gets donuts and one guy gets nothing. But if there’s five women in a department and only four donuts, you can guarantee by the end of the day there will be a box with only 5/16ths of a donut in it. And no one will know where any of the donuts, or donut parts, went!

This is an axiom. You cannot deny it.

This is why guys sometimes have to take it upon themselves to be merciful to the last donut. If we get to the box and there are only two donuts left, we take both of them. Because there’s nothing more pathetic than seeing 5/16ths of a donut. Alone. In the wilderness of a donut box.

I just got back from the neighborhood Target (yet, French pronunciation is a must). Normally, as I wander through the halls of that place, I get bombarded with people in red shirts who, just like their Star Trek counterparts, are seeking to make an impact in their five seconds before they’re offed into oblivion. So every three steps its, “Can I help you find something?”

I figure this happens so often because I know exactly what I want and need no assistance in locating it. After all, I have been here before and the shelves are not migrating.

Be that as it may, today I went in and grabbed a bottle of Sobe’s Lifewater (the Strawberry Kiwi flavor) off the shelf. Apparently, the citrus flavor next to it had been overlooked many times already, and this was the final straw. Due to extremely low self-esteem, it leapt to its death and splattered all over the aisle.

Normally, I’m not much of a sentimental guy. But I figured this nice bottle of whatever needed a proper funeral. So I picked up the empty shell of its former life and set it aside, then went to find a redshirt to officiate over the funeral.

I walked up and down the entire hall, even into electronics. There were no redshirts around. They’re only there when you don’t need them.

So I finally said, “Enough of this. I’ve got what I came for.” And I went to the checkout line, where I told the woman at the register about the fate of one lonely bottle of citrus Sobe Lifewater. About ten seconds later, a second cashier came over to the first and said, “This lady just said there’s a mess in the juice aisle. I’m on the registers. What do we do?”

At least the woman at my checkout stand believed me. She even thanked me for informing her of the suicide, even though register workers cannot do anything about it.

I figured it was enough to blame gravity, and headed on my way. But of course, we all know the real culprit.

George W. Bush.

I still blame you.

Rockies have clenched the Wild Card spot, so they’re going to the playoffs again. Also, if they win their last three games of the season, they’ll actually win the division. Stranger things have happened.

Like this amazing come from behind victory:

Now that is a great victory…

How is it already October?