Andre the Giant has a possee

Apparently, the Andre the Giant has a Posse crowd has made it to Atlanta. Spotted this sticker in Little Five Points a couple weeks back, stuck to the back of a road sign:

I’ve posted here before with examples of the same kind of agitprop in Tampa, but this is the first time I’ve seen it in Atlanta. I’m extremely impressed with the quality of the design work on this sticker.


Two steps forward, two steps back. That seems to be the general theme these days.

In the “two steps forward” category, I’ve finished the first go-round of the new SymToys site. I say “first go-round” because I have planned a LOT more content; in the interests of getting it online, I scaled back three times. Eventually, I’ll probably end up adding a very long list of kinky sex ideas and scenarios, several more BDSM tutorials (including a lot more do-it-yourself toys!), a review section, and a radical expansion of the flogging how-to pages. I’ll be adding a lot more photographically, as well, as I have time to do some more shooting–some of the current pages are pretty stark. (Thanks to Shelly, joreth, dayo, my non-LJ friend Stephanie, and everyone else who helped with modeling, suggestions, ideas, and proofreading!)

I’m very pleased with the look and content so far. It represents a lot more work than you might think. Check it out! If you feel up to it, add something to Whispers!

Now my attention has turned to the book on polyamory I’ve been off-again, on-again working on for quite while. It’s on again, and will be my #1 priority for the foreseeable future, with my #2 priority being to finish Onyx 3–which could conceivably be done (finally!) next week.

The “two steps back”–still dealing with all kinds of financial problems related to working for a small startup. Ugh.


Tonight I’ll be in Chicago to visit dayo! *bounce*

It’s shaping up to be a really busy weekend. Drumming and fire spinning (yay! I can hardly wait!) tomorrow; then clubbing at Neo. Saturday, we’re talking about doing the Ren Faire and then heading to GD. Sunday’s still up in the air, but I know that I’ll be having brunch with cunningminx at the least…I’m looking forward to meeting her in person (finally!). With a bit of luck, we’ll be seeing her before then, too.

I know that there are some other chicagoites on my flist; if you think you might want to hook up this weekend, drop me an email! tacitr [at] aol (dot) com.


Some time soon, I need to post a review of this:

I don’t normally gush about stuff like this, but… seriously, coolest sex toy EVER. Like, in the entire history of human sexual expression. Really, it’s that cool. dayo, I’ve already got it packed for the trip…

Some thoughts on nanotech’s dark side

Iran is currently working on obtaining fissionable uranium which can be used for nuclear weapons. This is presenting something of a thorny issue for our current Simian-in-Chief, whose approval rating is dipping perilously close to single digits over his mismanagement of the botched and ultimately pointless war in Iraq. We currently lack the political capital and the military and financial resources to mount any kind of overt action in Iran, wishful thinking of the pro-war Far Right aside. None of this is news to anyone who’s not been living under a bridge for the past four years or so.

There’s some good news and some bad news in this situation, none of which has anything to do with American politics or the situation in Iraq. The good news is the part that says “Iran is currently working on obtaining fissionable uranium which can be used for nuclear weapons.” This is good news because, more than fifty years after Word War II, it still requires a major committed effort on the part of an entire nation to obtain fissionable uranium which can be used for nuclear weapons. The bad news is generic programmable nanotech assemblers. The good news is that these don’t exist yet. The bad news is that they will.


The process of enriching uranium is delicate, costly, complex, and fiddly. The Reader’s Digest Condensed Version is this: Uranium occurs in nature in two isotopes, U-235 and U-238. The difference is the number of neutrons in the atomic nucleus of the uranium atoms. U-238 has three more neutrons in the nucleus than U-235 does.

The vast majority of the uranium in nature is U-238. U-235 is quite scarce, making up just over one-half of one percent of the uranium you can dig up out of the ground. For various complicated reasons that have to do with Science and are beyond the scope of this post, U-238 doesn’t go boom. In order to be useful to people who want to make things go boom, uranium needs to be “enriched,” meaning that the percentage of U-235–the kind that does go boom–needs to be increased.

This process is really, really, really hard to do. Essentially, you take your uranium and combine it with fluorine to form a gas called uranium hexafluoride. You then put this gas into a special centrifuge and you spin it really, really fast for a really, really long time. A tiny percentage of the U-235, which is just oh such a little bit lighter (by the weight of three neutrons) than U-238, ends up at the top. Then you take some of the gas out of the bottom, where it’s more U-238, and put the remaining gas into a second centrifuge, which you spin really, really fast for a really, really long time. You keep doing this over and over and over again for months, and you’re left with a little bit of enriched uranium hexafluoride, which you take the fluorine atoms off of to end up with uranium.

The centrifuges are complicated and difficult to make, even if you’re an entire country. The process is so delicate that if one of your workers sneezes while it’s happening, the whole shebang gets all mixed up again and you have to start over. Even with billions of dollars on hand and the resources and will of an entire nation behind you, making nuclear bombs is tough to do.


There is this notion that once a nation acquires nuclear weapons and realizes how destructive these things are, that nation tends to become very, very reluctant to use them. In the history of the world, only two have been used in war. There are historians who will argue that the existence of nuclear weapons has likely averted a third world war; these weapons are so bad that nobody really wants to use them, so nations that have them tend to think twice about getting into shooting matches with other nations that have them.

Of course, this assumes people are reasonable. This is often, but not always, the case. Witness 1 for the prosecution: Kim Jong Il, the poster boy for “deranged psychopaths,” who just so happens to be the leader of North Korea, a nation which just so happens to have nukes.

I tend to think the notion that nuclear weapons have a calming effect on countries is a historical artifact, because they’re so hard to make that only highly industrialized, rationalist nations get them first. There is a correlation between countries with stable, rational governments,and countries which are wealthy and industrialized.

Don’t look at me like that. Compared to Kim Jong Il, Josef Stalin is a model of reason and rationality. And George W.’s administration didn’t invent the Bomb. Had all our nation’s leaders been like W, we would never have become a First World nation to begin with, and we may still not be a First World nation by the time he leaves office. Half a trillion dollars drained out of the nation’s economy to finance a war against a paltry and largely unmilitarized Third World country…but I digress.

The point is, making nuclear bombs is tough and expensive, even for entire nations. Your next door Al Qaeda cell isn’t going to get one any time soon, wishful thinking of the pro-war Far Right aside.

But hold on. Things are getting better.


Nanotechnology is a cutting-edge new technology that offers the promise of doing for manufacturing, medicine, and materials engineering what electronics did for computation. Right now, human technology is barbaric and primitive almost beyond reason. We like to think that we’re high-tech, but we’re not. The process by which we make things has hardly changed since flint knives and bearskins. We take a piece of something, we whack off all the bits that don’t look like what we want, until we get what we do want. Today the whacking is done by computer-controlled, automated CNC milling equipment instead of with a big rock, but essentially it’s the same. Our processes for making stuff are better, but our basic techniques have scarcely changed.

The Holy Grail of manufacturing nanotech is the universal programmable assembler, a hypothetical device that makes stuff the way the cells in your body made you–at an atomic scale, one molecule at a time. The theory is simple: you take a bunch of little programmable machines, each of which is the size of a couple dozen molecules or so, and you program them with what you want to make. Then you give them some carbon, iron, or whatever, and they make that thing for you from the ground up, one molecule at a time. It’s the ultimate dream manufacturing technique; if you can conceive it, you can make it. (Of course you don’t want to make stuff literally one molecule at a time; when I say a “bunch” of assemblers, I mean like “a few billion.”)

It’s less farfetched than it sounds. Read Engines of Creation. Go ahead; I’ll wait.

You back? Cool stuff, right? Radical longevity, effortless and cheap manufacturing that doesn’t pollute or deplete natural resources, personalized cancer cures that cost less than a low-end Dell desktop. The advent of nanotechnology will arguably change human civilization more than the advent of agriculture did.


If we live that long, that is. You see, nanotech offers the promise of building stuff on a molecular level. Nanotech assemblers manipulate matter on the level of individual molecules. Forget that complicated, tedious mucking about with expensive and finicky centrifuges and uranium hexafluoride; dissolve your uranium in hydrogen peroxide and sodium hydroxide, stir in some nano devices that sort out the U-235 bits from the U-238 bits, and wait. Enriching uranium is removed from the realm of entire nations and brought down to the level where anyone who’s having a bad hair day can do it.

If he can get the uranium to begin with, of course. It’s not like you can buy it at the corner grocery. But we’re a clever species; someone will figure out how to solve that problem. 🙂

I am a slave to my computer overlords

Did I say overlords? I meant protectors.

The company I work with has made a multimedia presentation that explains how our lightning detection gizmo works, and talks about storm and lightning safety and suchlike. It’s turned out to be a very effective sales tool, so we’ve made (or rather, I’ve made) several different versions of it for our various distributors, which feature the distributor’s logo and contact information, and safety information specific to whatever industry the distributor focuses on.

Last week, one of our distributors asked for 1,000 copies of their custom-tailored version of the presentation on CD-ROM. Now, we don’t have time (or, to be fair, money) to send it out for commercial CD duplication, and we don’t have a duplicator.

That means my last several days have been consumed creating CDs. I have a [MacPro computer] and a [Multimedia Presentation] and [1000 Blank No-Name CD-Rs], and I’m combining them into [1000 Multimedia CDs]. Man, I thought the quest line to get [Reins of the Onyx Netherwing Drake] was tedious!

So if anyone’s been wondering why I haven’t been around much lately, that’s the reason. On the whole, I think the grinding to get [Reins of the Onyx Netherwing Drake] is probably more satisfying.

New poly article in The Orlando Weekly

The Orlando Weekly has published an article about polyamory, which appeared in the newspaper yesterday and is now available online. It focuses primarily on joreth and her relationships with her partner Ki and me. The Web site’s registration and login process seems to be broken at the moment, so as of right now it does not appear to be possible to leave comments. [Edit]: Apparently the login and commenting system is working now.

Ph34r my l33t skillz

Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to report I have just learned how to tie a corset.

Now, you might think that this is something I already would know, being an experienced kinkster and all, but somehow my experience in this regard has been sadly deficient, largely due to the fact that whenever one of my sweeties has gone anywhere in a corset, there has been someone else there who already knows the Fundamental Mystery of the Many Strings. As a result, I have never mastered string theory.

But that has changed with dayo‘s trip down here this weekend. And now, if you will excuse me, I must go put on a ginormous pair of stompfy boots and be off.

Lots o’ linky goodness

Found all over the Intarweb and among various posts on my flist. I’ve had these browser windows open, in some cases, for weeks, and so I’m dumping them all here so as to make a record.

Political humor

Conan O’Brien Hates My Homeland. Funny, work-safe, sometimes painfully true.

Different Meanings of Country Flags. Work-safe, funny, and even more painfully true. Ouch!

Science, Tech, and Medicine

Mechanistic link between stress and the development of Alzheimer’s disease

The physiology and processes of aging

Masters student delivers thesis in her underwear–video game controllers you use by feeling up your partner

Keeping a backup copy of your immune system

Milky Way galaxy is eating a small neighborturns out our sun actually didn’t form in the Milky Way. It originally belonged to a small galaxy called the Sagittarius dwarf galaxy, which is being devoured by the Milky Way. New Agers are going crazy about what this means for the “energy field” of the planet. [Edit]: The claim that the sun originated in the galaxy being cannibalized by the Milky Way has been debunked.

And while we’re on the subject, here’s a video of a model of the collision between the Milky Way and the Andromeda galaxy, due to commence in a couple billion years. This collision is bad news.

Binary calculator made out of wood and marbles–eat your heart out, Alan Turing!

Miscellaneous

Disturbing Sex Toys–funny, possibly not work safe.

Joined at the Brainstem–really bad relationship advice.

The new fad among hyperconservative, literalist Christians: Christian spanking porn. Work-safe. Would Sir like some domestic abuse with his porn today?

A partial list of common English words invented by William Shakespeare

Mingle2Online Dating

The Weekend. Let me show you it.

I had some pretty ambitious plans for the weekend. I don’t normally make lists, but for this weekend, I made an exception, because I was Just In That Kind of Mood. Go most of the stuff on the list done, and the weekend’s technically not even over yet:

Give dayo a long, deep, thorough spanking, flogging, paddling, cropping, and caning. In public.

Work on phoenixgeisha‘s CD challenge.

Meet a woman wearing a necklace that is a play on her name.

Infect datan0de‘s wetware with remote command-and-control software

Create a lolcat that references the Terminator movies

Spin poi

Watch the worst travesty of a movie committed to celluloid since Star Wars Episode 3

Work on the Symtoys Web site

I had high hopes for watching the worst high-budget mainstream movie ever filmed when dayo and I went to see Pirates of the Caribbean 3, but sadly, my hopes and dreams were dashed, and I was forced to drink from the bitter cup of disappointment…for, you see, Pirates 3 is actually a very good, very fun movie.

It’s clear that somewhere between Pirates 2, that shambling disaster of a movie, and Pirates 3, someone told Johnny Depp, “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but…could you kick it up a notch or two? Jack Sparrow is supposed to be really over the top, so let’s see you get out there and really give it what you’ve got, y’know?” I didn’t leave the theater wanting those hours of my life back, like I did with Pirates 2; on the contrary, I was highly entertained.

However, the weekend was salvaged when we went to see Spider-Man 3 this afternoon. Dear sweet Jesus on a pogo stick, what a disaster that movie is. Spider-Man 3 is the Alien 3 of the Spider Man franchise–the film that kills the franchise dead, then squats over the corpse and farts in its face. If you’re looking for the most cringe-worthy, unwatchable movie ever made, this here’s your flick, in spades.

And I do mean “unwatchable” literally. There were parts of the movie so horrifyingly awful I literally had to turn my eyes away. I couldn’t even muster up the same staring-in-fascination-at-a-train-wreck that kept me going through Episode 3.

It was truly a perfect storm of fail. In fact, that movie is made of fail, from start to finish. The acting? Stunning in its awfulness; the cinematic equivalent of a back-alley mugging with a brick. The dialog? Imagine Jar-Jar Binks with brain damage, and you’re at least in the right ballpark. The script? Somewhere, someone noticed in pre-production that the script read like it was written by a sexually repressed teenager who has never known the touch of a woman, yet he kept his mouth shut. That person needs to be found and killed.

The scene where Mary Jane meets Anakin Skywalker Peter Parker on the bridge on the park and tells him “Oh, Anakin, I just don’t understand you any more!” “Peter, we’re through, I’ve met somebody else” will echo down the corridors of history as the pinnacle of man’s inhumanity to man–or more precisely, Hollywood’s inhumanity to its fans. The fact that the producers, director, stars, special effects technicians, screenwriters, cameramen, and caterers who were responsible for this abomination were not all immediately struck dead by some horrible, disfiguring disease upon its conclusion are proof positive of God’s Divine Mercy to those who hate Him. Even the computer special effects, which rarely rose above the level of middling awful, suffered from perspective and lighting problems–look, especially, to the mismatched perspective and poor lighting of the falling taxi. Or better yet, don’t.

And now, I think dayo needs another sound thrashing. 🙂 Edit: As soon as she’s done ordering a set of poi online.

Many random things, and pickles

First off, I present to you a stuffed animal inspired by my post about conduct in the dungeon, given to me by dayo, who upon reading it went out to Build-A-Bear and created this soft, floppy-eared, leather clad specimen:

Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce you to Bunnykin Spankypants. And yes, dayo is in SO much trouble.


Many cell phones use a predictive text entry system called T9. T9 attempts to make texting faster, by “recognizing” common words as you begin to key them in, and filling out the rest. For example, if you hit 8 4 on your keyboard, the T9 system will recognize that it’s more likely you are attempting to type “th” than “vg”. T9 uses a dictionary of words, which it consults as you hit letters to try to anticipate what word you’re typing. Everyone knows this.

The T9 system built into my Motorola Razr is an adaptive T9 system; if you type a particular word multiple times, it will “remember” that word and rank that word higher in its probability table than other words that begin with the same combinations.

I inherited my Razr from figment_j. Apparently, she has used it to do text messaging in the past. If I hit the number 5, which corresponds with the letters “j,” “k,” and “l,” the phone’s very first guess about what I intend to type is “lust.” If I hit the number 2, which can be “a,” “b,” or “c,” the phone immediately guesses “boots!”. If I type 66, its first guess is “not here.”


Shelly would like to hijack the collected perversion wisdom of my friends list to a devious noble end. Involving pickles. Literally or figuratively; it’s up to you.

There is, you see, a past time that has become a fixture at church socials and picnics and other wholesome get-togethers called “pickle spitting.” It’s exactly what it sounds like: people put wole pickles in their mouths and see who can spit them the farthest.

“Pickle spitting” just sounds obscene. In fact, it really sounds like it should be a euphemism for a deviant sex act. And, sadly, it’s not.

That’s where you come in.

In a comment to this post, leave a suggestion (or two) for a deviant sex act that you think should be referred to as “pickle spitting.” By working together, we can corrupt and pervert this harmless activity, once and for all!

The Rules

In Which Franklin gets all Old Testament about conduct in the dungeon.

ON CONDUCT

When thou dost come unto me and beseech me, saying, “Verily, do I request of you a good paddling,” then surely I will grant unto thee a good paddling. During the period of the paddling, thou shalt not say unto me “What was that, a mosquito?”, nor compare thy paddling to the flight of any other insect, or any creeping thing upon the earth, be it a moth, or a caterpillar; nor draw any likeness between the instrument of thy paddling and the feathers of the birds above; for surely shalt thy paddling grow mighty and endless, and welts shall be upon thy backside for four and thirty days.

And in those days when thou art being flogged, thou shalt not giggle and wag thy ass in a taunting manner, nor squirm and attempt to escape when the flogging becomes greater for it, for then wilt thou be cast into bondage, so that thine ass will no longer be able to wiggle, nor shalt thou be able to squirm.

Thou shalt not speak with thy mouth full, though moaning is okay.

Neither shalt thou allow the passions of thy loins to reach the pinnacle of their fruition, save for those times when I commandeth thee; and in those times, thou shalt come with the force of a raging firestorm, with much screaming and wailing; for thy screams of ecstasy are pleasing to me.

Thou shalt wear no clothing that is displeasing in my sight, nor place within thy pants back issues of National Geographic magazine, to protect thy backside from the force of my hand; for verily I will notice, and remove the magazine, and upon your backside shall I become medieval. So it is written.

Thou shalt not take thy master’s name in vain, nor forget thy master’s title when asked. Thou shalt say “sir” or “maestro” when asked thy master’s title. Thou shalt not say “buttercups,” nor “sugarpants,” nor even “bunnykins,” nor refer to any other cute and cuddly beast that doth roam the earth. Neither shalt thou say “Oh yeah? Make me!” For truly will I then make you, and the bruises shall be on your bum like a plague of locusts unto Egypt.

And speaking of Egypt, when the wetness doth issue from between thy thighs like the waters of the Nile, say not to me “Please, i do not want it,” for verily shall I judge thy words to be falsehoods, and these words shall not be heard.