We knew we only had a short time to slay it once we had entered its lair. It would sense us there, start to wake itself up from its slumber to deal with us. The waking up was slow, but we had to get there before it finished, oh god we had to. Benjamin was the first to go. He led us forward, faster and faster until his life was cut short by a spear from the ceiling.
I pull my rental car into the space. I don’t even notice the smell of cigarettes the car is caked in anymore. Wearily, I get out and walk towards the shopping complex. Somewhere in there is a burger joint, and all I want right now is a burger. And some friends to have dinner with. No, I push that thought out of my mind. I’m an adult. I should be able to handle a meal on my own.
“And so, no one has any idea what it is about?” “How could we? All of our attempts to study Dr. Barom’s final work have been unsuccessful so far.” The two men sat across from each other in Dr. Walters’s study, the great oak desk between them. “To call our attempts catastrophic would be an understatement,” Dr. Walters continued, “Two senior members of faculty and six grad students, soon to be seven, dead by their own hands.
Balance. All of life is a terrifying balancing act. Never will we ever be “happy” completely and utterly. Maybe for a moment, but that moment is ultimately going to go away. Balance. Every action we take will cause a ripple effect that cause some things in our life to be better, and some things to be worse. Life is just constantly trying to find the right thing to tip the balance to where it needs to be.
Veni, vidi, vici, he said when he conquered the world. I came, I saw, I conquered. But what did They say? Ubique sumus, videmus omnia, omnes nos habent? We are everywhere, we see all, we own all? They’ve trained us not to see them, but They’re there. Whispering in the background, telling people what to do. They’ve got us all wrapped around Their fingers. Their long, creepy fingers. I’ve only seen Their fingers once.
Listen - none of this is steeped in reality. I’ve never understood the real world. All I know is my own perception of the world. And even that is tenuous and changing. So I guess I don’t even know that. Why even write? I don’t know that either. I know stories. I read them, watch them, play them, invent them all the time. But do stories convey anything about meaning? Are stories real?
I currently work for a company called Pure Storage. One of their products is called Flashblade. I couldn’t find any examples on how to use Flashblade’s S3 capabilities programmatically anywhere online, so I’m putting this out to hopefully help people realize they can move their object store into their data center with very little changes to their code. Code Snippets Most of the work with the libraries I’ve used involves figuring out how to get the client configured properly.
This book was… Fuck I don’t know how to describe this book. It’s partially an exploration in writing. David Foster Wallace is obviously a brilliant writer, and the book contains many scenes that were nothing short of gripping. But it’s also obvious that he was having fun writing this book. He was playing around with it - mixing in multiple different writing styles, the endless footnotes, the odd ways he tells you important information.
It just won’t go away. The chill that pierces deep within. Or does it come from inside of me? It’s the worst in the limbs. My arms and legs, so cold no matter what I do. And then it creeps in. Up the spine, through the meninges, into the scalp. My hair stands on end with the chill. I’m just so damn cold. Make it go away. It makes all the bad feelings worse.
Intro My New Year’s resolution in 2018 was to keep track of everything I read. Context is important when trying to recall how you felt about books, not just the content of the words. Due to different life circumstances, the same book can be incredibly illuminating or insufferable. My goal in keeping track of all of this would be to be able to look back on the year and see how I’ve grown and what I’ve learned from all of my reading.