Friday, August 31, 2012

Chupacabra

Last night i was listening to Coast to Coast yet again as i do almost every night. George Noory either has a very monotonous voice or uses some filters as Art Bell did. LOL Bel. It helps me fall asleep guaranteed every time. But this time it was too exciting to go there. He was talking about chupacabras with Linda Moulton Howe. They were interviewing a woman from Missouri who actually saw one that has been shot. You can see here below all the details. Could these chupacabras be more than hairless coyotes as they seem to me?


Paşaport

În 2004 am fost în România şi printre altele am obţinut un nou paşaport. Care şi acela, ca şi precedentul, a expirat în 5 ani. În 2009 chiar după ce mi-a expirat acel paşaport a fost introdusă noua regulă de a te deplasa la consulat pentru a obţine un paşaport care până atunci se putea obţine şi prin poştă.

Ce înseamnă asta pentru un român care locuieşte în Portland, Oregon? Deplasarea la Los Angeles, 1600 km pe autostradă, taxe de sute de dolari şi apoi o aşteptare de 4 luni.

În Portland sunt în jur de 30000 români din care probabil jumătate cetăţeni români. Dar nu am auzit pe nimeni să se plângă până acum. Mulţi probabil că rezolvă problema altfel, româneşte. În ianuarie anul acesta am contactat ambasada României în Washington. Dar nu mică mi-a fost mirarea când am auzit mesajul de pe answering system. După ce am încercat să vorbesc cu câteva persoane de acolo m-am lămurit. Nici un standard european sau american sau de oricare. Eşti tratat ca un nimic. De fapt nici nu am ajuns să discut problema de mai sus. Au fost un număr de emailuri schimbate între mine, ambasadă şi ministerul de externe. Au fost un număr de miniştri şi prim miniştri schimbaţi.

Ce nu par să înţeleagă domnii din MAE. Un minister dintr-un stat nu e o moşie în care boierul sau vechilul face după cum i se pare. Sunt nişte reguli iar dacă un cetăţean cere ceva i se dă după acele reguli.

Ce să mai vorbim de cazul când regulile au devenit imposibile?

Îmi aminteşte de facultate, când profesorii ridicau "standardul" adică volumul de materie predată atât de sus încât pentru un neşpăgar era aproape imposibil să treacă examenul iar un şpăgar trebuia să fie impresionat ca să poate menţine preţul ridicat.

Am încercat pe vremea nu ştiu cărui ministru de externe să fac o "petiţie" LOL am scris un email în care am descris problema, mi s-a răspuns, mi s-a dat un număr de înregistrare şi apoi s-a schimbat vechilul pe moşie şi aşa a rămas.

Re: FW: Probleme obtinere pasaport- E1/P/Co/598/16.07.2012
from me
 x
George Ion george.ion.email@gmail.com

Jul 31
 
to relatii_cu_pub.
Domnilor.

Ultima dată când m-am adresat ambasadei din Washington am fost contactat de consulat. În urma discuţiei cu domnul Ghenea am hotărât să vă contactez pe dvs. Acum am primit un email de la un domn care spune că e de la ambasada României din Washington care nu se regăseşte pe lista personalului ambasadei de pe site. Ataşez aici acel email. Vă rog să analizaţi dvs. această situaţie.

Sincer,

Gheorhge Ion

"2012/7/31 Valentin Dragusin <vdragusin@roembus.org>

Stimate domnule Gheorghe,

Urmare cererii dvs adresate Ministerului Afacerilor Externe de la Bucuresti, va rugam sa ne trimiteti un numar de telefon la care puteti fi contactat.

O zi placuta in continuare.



Valentin Dragusin
Ambasada Romaniei la Washington"

2012/7/16 relatii_cu_publicul <relatii_cu_publicul@mae.ro>

    

    Stimate domn,

    Vă mulţumim pentru mesajul dumneavoastră, pe care l-am înregistrat cu nr. E1/P/Co/598/16.07.2012.

    Vă vom răspunde în termenul[1] prevăzut de Ordonanţa Guvernului nr. 27/2002 privind reglementarea activităţii de soluţionare a petiţiilor.

    

    Cu consideraţie,

    Direcţia Relaţii Interinstituţionale, Politici şi Informaţii Publice

    


    

    [1] Art. 8 - (1) Autorităţile şi instituţiile publice sesizate au obligaţia să comunice petiţionarului, în termen de 30 de zile de   la data înregistrării petiţiei, răspunsul, indiferent dacă soluţia este favorabilă sau nefavorabilă.

    (2) Pentru soluţionarea petiţiilor transmise, potrivit art. 61, de la alte autorităţi sau instituţii publice, termenul de  30 de zile curge de la data înregistrării petiţiei la autoritatea sau instituţia publică competentă.

        Art. 9 - În situaţia în care aspectele sesizate prin petiţie necesită o cercetare mai amănunţită, conducătorul autorităţii sau instituţiei publice poate prelungi termenul prevăzut la art. 8 cu cel mult 15 zile.

    From: George Ion [mailto:george.ion.email@gmail.com]
    Sent: Thu 7/12/2012 05:58
    To: relatii_cu_publicul
    Subject: Probleme obţinere paşaport

    Mă numesc Gheorghe Ion şi locuiesc legal în Statele Unite din 1995. Ultimul paşaport mi-a expirat în 2009. Am încercat să contactez Ambasada României la Washington, dar în schimb am fost contactat de domnul Ghenea de la Consulatul din Los Angeles.  Aş fi vrut să discut cu cei de la Ambasada despre dificultatea de a călători la Los Angeles pentru a obţine un paşaport iar domnul Ghenea în schimb m-a invitat la Consulat să aplic pentru o foaie de drum. Problema principală pentru care am reţineri să merg la Los Angeles este descrisă aici:http://georgesblogforfriends.blogspot.com/2012/07/neon-tiger.html .

    Mai este şi problema discriminării tuturor românilor din Statele Unite care nu locuiesc la o distanţă acceptabilă de un consulat. Nu este posibil ca introducerea paşapoartelor biometrice care reprezintă un progres tehnologic să reducă opţiunea de a obţine un paşaport prin poştă ca înainte şi să nu permită obţinerea într-un timp mai rezonabil decât 4 luni.

    Gheorghe Ion

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Fluieratul în biserică



"A whistleblower (whistle-blower or whistle blower)[1] is a person who tells the public or someone in authority about alleged dishonest or illegal activities (misconduct) occurring in a government department, a public or private organization, or a company."

 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whistleblower

Unul din punctele cheie care diferenţiază o societate democratică de una de tip mafiot este protecţia celor care atrag atenţia asupra unor mari ilegalităţi. În SUA este lege care asigură protecţia unui whistleblower şi e suficient să dai un search pe acest termen ca să înţelegi cât de multe persoane sunt implicate în acest fenomen şi ce importanţă are el într-o democraţie.

De asemenea termenul se aude foarte des în SUA în talk show-uri la radio.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whistleblower_Protection_Act

Este o reacţie instituţionalizată împotriva creării în societate a structurilor de tip mafiot. Care la un moment dat ajung aparent printr-o mână de oameni să conducă milioane care la un moment dat toţi au încercat să spună ceva dar s-au oprit pe scara corupţiei descrisă mai jos. Iar toate aceste milioane acum stau şi se miră de magia corupţiei şi unde poate ea să ajungă.

Existenţa acestei legi de atâta timp a permis includerea în cultură şi acceptarea acestui tip de manifestare democratică.

Nu vreau să vorbesc despre existenţa sau inexistenţa fluierătorilor în România. Dar ştiu că mafioţii acordă o foarte mare atenţie acestor persoane, practic fiind cea mai mare bătaie a lor de cap pe lângă faptul că trebuie mereu să salveze şi să creeze aparenţe şi să scoată noi justificări pentru noi îngrădiri ale democraţiei. Probabil sunt nişte paşi care se fac în cazul unei persoane care vine şi "fluieră în biserică" într-un sistem corupt care este instalat şi funcţionează. Speriat/Cumpărat/Înscenat/Şantajat/.

Dar cel mai important este marginalizarea şi culpabilizarea morală a acestor persoane care sigur se vor împotmoli şi vor ceda într-unul din paşii amintiți.

Iar corupţia, un sistem paralel şi parazit în societate are legile ei de apariţie, evoluţie, dezvoltare şi odată pornită, iar în cazul României, pornită de zeci de ani din exterior, la început foarte subtil, probabil cu complicitatea odiosului, va ajunge într-un punct critic când cei corupători vor fi prea mulţi şi nu vor mai avea pe cine corupe dar vor ocupa toate structurile de conducere ale societăţii pe care nu sunt în stare şi nu sunt interesaţi să le facă să funcţioneze normal şi atunci ce se va întâmpla? Un colaps social care se poate termina în mai multe feluri, în cazul de faţă vor veni cei ce au introdus-o şi îşi vor culege roadele.

09-06 1o AM

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Resume

The link to my resume is at my favorite links in the right bottom area of the blog. However i post it her too because is easier to refer to.

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Songs I Keep Forgetting

Songs that don't raise any controversy in my mind anymore. Songs so nice and soul soothing i prefer to forget and lock down in my heart so they keep me warm inside
















Comrade Peter

As heard in ~72-74 when i was 12-14. Version adapted for English, slightly modified from the original which is hard to reproduce here.

Lenin died and went to Hell. One day St.Peter met with Satan. St.Peter was curious about Lenin and asked Satan how was he doing. Satan said: St.Peter, it's good you asked, it's a big problem, i don't know what to do with him anymore, he's turning all my devils into commies, soon they'll be all on strike and i couldn't run the Hell anymore. Saint Peter went OK, i'll take him a few days to see what's going on and then i'll return him to you. A couple of weeks later they meet again. Satan asked: Saint Peter, did you fix Lenin, can i have him back now? And Peter answers: What saint are you talking about, you mean comrade Peter, and now don't keep me here wasting my time, cause i was on my way to a party meeting and i don't want to be late!...

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Heads Down!

As heard in early 80s. Original in Romanian, slightly modified for English.

http://www.mioritice.com/banc/14989/#ixzz24a8jStwN

Booly dies and goes to Hell. A little devil gives him a tour of Hell and shows him the rooms he could chose from.

The first room, huge boilers of tar. He passes on that one.

The second room, huge boilers of sulfuric acid. He passes that one too.

The third room, a huge bowl of shit in which the sinners where standing up to their necks and smoking.

Booly quickly picks the third room. He hops in the bowl, lights up a cigarette and in a couple of minutes another little devil comes in and says:

- Come on guys, break's over, heads down now!...




Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Matter Over Mind

@11 AM Tuesday 8-21.



Woke up quite refresehd after 11 hours of sleep, with a breakfast break @7AM. Lately, i was only sleeping 4-6 hours and my wife even fewer. And she works. Some stomach pain but actually with some energy to face the day. I briefly heard the Tuesday blowers but i fell back asleep. Started the computer, read some of the news then started thinking. Then a few car alarms and slammed doors remembered me where i was.

For a long time i suspected this. They can read your brain waves. I even was admitted to the psychiatric ward a few times for saying this in public. I was declared officially crazy by all my "friends". But now it became harder to deny it. If there are toys that can do it, for how much more somebody could do it from the next door?

There was this guy George Hârşovescu now in Seattle, ex-pilot on Romanian airlines, who also told me 17 years ago that they have visualizing devices that can look through walls. I even heard on the local news once that some firefigters here in Portland got one of those stolen. And i also remember since 17 years ago that Ioan Mladin told me that "they" put everething on the computer, including the color of your crap every day and how many times a fly was sitting on a certain wall. It's been 17 years since. Techonolgy has evolved. Not human mind though. They rely more and more on this, now including software that talks to you on the phone when you think you talk to your mother and supercomputers that store and filter your all your internet. And Dan Costan who told me back then too that i was thinking too fast and they had to slow me down so he took me to the temp agency who sent me at Electronic Specialty. (After adding this more slammed doors and sinister stomping on the stairs).

They can use real time feedback in the form of synchronized noise. Slammed door, cars, planes, name it. (actually i was editing this paragraph hours after i wrote it and there was no noise in here for hours and i just heard a slammed door. My neighbor sometimes can be so quite i don't know he/she is at home).

Now imagine somebody reads in real time you EEG and makes a repeated noise in certain points of the curve where the brains cycles. It will definetely alter your thinking process, decision making, resolve, change your breath rhytm, pulse, blood pressure, and by this making your kidney to eliminate electrolytes, etc. Make you live the house in a hurry for no apparent reason. This being the simple case scenario.

Now i almost hyperventilate and my day is ruined.

But what if they can decipher the EEG in real time and know approximately what you're thinking off? I don't think it's hard, there must be certain patterns associated with certain activities and thoughts. When you want to eat. When you wanna to go outside. When you wanna go to sleep or see a sexy woman in an ad. When you see a politician's face on the computer' monitor. They can interrupt some thoughts and let others free.

Sometimes i think even further, forget about supercomputers, what if there was an app for this?

Thanks to the pioneering work that's been done so far, i think we are not so far from the moment when a vibrating iPhone in our pocket will let us know that the person we're talking to is lying. Vibration on a higher frequency would mean is attracted to us. Etc. That would simplify the hell out of our communication experiences. Words would be "very unnecessary". A OK there is one. Still looking for a completely remote one without sensors attached.



Have to confess, what triggered this post is the news below. It's still big today. Just heard on the radio. I remember i was driving many years ago through Hilsboro and saw a sign and maybe people protesting about. But i never knew they have 4800 monkeys in Hilsboro, for tests! 4800? And i assume it's not only for shampoos and allergy medications. Macaque monkeys. The name Hauser comes to mind. By the way, one day i'd like to go and see how those monkey live in there. Maybe i will in the video below. Maybe i should watch it after i click update.

Mysteries of the Attic II



@11 PM Monday 8-20. All "weekend" i've been very tired. The apartment was slowly filling with some sort of smoke, kinda like cigarettes but not only. Sunday around midnight i tried to start my Holmes True Hepa filter with three 20 dollars each sub-micronic fiberglass filters (two of them are 2 month old and i vacuum them weekly) and multiple carbon prefilters. It was smelling like burnt oil.

So i went into the attic to see what's going on. Two of the one way valves where stuck open, the one at my bathroom exhaust and the one for the attic. (I installed four 4 inch valves under one of the 6 inch vents, those designed for laundry driers, one for each exhaust and one for the attic). In top of those just under the vent there is a computer fan. The fan was stopped since the last few days i saw the attic valve open and i thought because of the heat there is too much thermal flow already. But the valve was stuck open. So the bad smell from the attic and the smoke from my neighbor was back flowing in the bathroom. (The valve at the other end of the pipe above the bathroom shown above was bent as well.) But i noticed there was a lot of dust inside the pipe near the valve. I quickly fixed those and suddenly the air in the apartment was much clearer and i started feeling better too.

So i came back inside and i opened the filter fan and i saw one of the bearings overheated and all the oil burned out and spread inside the housing. I oiled those 1 cm inner diameter bearings with motor oil and cleaned the housing. Like i did last year. They got some rings with cotton inside where you put the oil. The bronze bearings were tight, no sign of wearing. I started the filter, at 2 AM i went to bed.

AT 6:30 my wife went to work and i woke up and started thinking of what i saw last night in the attic. I went back in there with a dust mask and looked inside that pipe. It had a huge amount of dust with oil in it. And it was smelling like burnt oil. Probably because i oiled the tiny motor of the fan in the bathroom because it was too noisy. Those bearings have a inner diameter of about 5 mm and i never saw them wearing out. So i took the whole thing apart, whased the 3 meter 3 inch flexible pipes with laundry detergent in the ... bathtub eliminated an extra piece of 2 meters of pipe (it was way too long), inside, with a brush tied to a stick, and put it back together in about 3 hours. I was completely exhausted with no power left to breath. I couldn't read on the computer monitor. I was thinking about going to the hospital but in the end i fell asleep for a little bit.

I've been thinking, when planes go around at 70 mph with the flaps down and the engine revved up as they are so much doing these days they can vibrate those pipes and valves and make all that dust to back-flow in the bathroom. But the fan under the vent sucks everything out of the pipes and creates a negative pressure in them. But the fan was stopped in the last few days.

I just remembered those Harleys @midnight last night at the appartment complex across the street thundering for minutes, it seemed like they would never stopped their engines after they arrived.

(Or the dust blowers in the parking lot going for hours on Tuesday and blowing asphalt dust in the attic too.)

When i moved here that flexible pipe from the bathroom exhaust was laying on the attic floor where is the intake for the attic, opening above the kitchen window and i moved it near the others near the 6 inch vent in the top of the roof. (There is a 3 inch chimney too for it going through the roof but ... only outside! Nothing inside, just the plywood.)

The @20 year old dishwasher just stoped. And it smells like burnt oil too. I think i should oil those pump motor bearings but i'm gonna look for some bearing oil with pressure additives and no detergent or maybe i should try white mineral oil, from what i just read on the internet, motor oil is not good for electric motor hydro-static bearings.

There is no way metal came out of those axles inside those fan motors. It is possible from the dishwasher or the microwave/exhaust in the kitchen, but from what i remember when i washed that turbine from the microwave there was no play at the axle when i re-installed it. At the Holmes filter most of the load from the turbine is axial and there is a tiny teflon washer that takes that load and it's still there.

But there is a huge number of planes flying above usually under legal altitude limits. There was one that passed in just a few seconds at 1 PDT today, at low speed and probably just above the roof. The cars at @5 PM are in the hundreds per hour although it is not justified by the number of houses or size of the street.

The skin on my face, hands, legs, seems very tight. I noticed that every time i come in contact all day with these bad smells.

By the way my wife just tried to open the balcony door and there is still a barbecue going on (it was before i started writing this). And every time when i go in the balcony a car comes on the alley from nowhere and a small plane flies above!

Talking about vacuum, one day the flexible hose was too dirty inside and washed it in the tub. (I cover one end and extend it in the tub filled with a few inches with water until no dirty water comes out of it.) Then i didn't want to wait until it completely dried and used it like that. And then i saw the dust was sticking inside. Two of the filters and the collector are washable anyways and then i started vacuuming the apartment with the "wet method", cleaning the hose in the tub every few minutes or so. There is no dust coming out of it and all the dirt gathers in the tub and i just flush it! Then i removed all filters but one and still no dust is coming out of it, but the cleaning power is about three times bigger! It really sucks the s... out of the carpets.

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Dinescu şi morţii

Dinescu, acest simpatic dinam al culturii româneşti post-revoluţionare a morţilor, un bucătar şi poet ultramodern, conservaţionist în acelaşi timp, ne aminteşte de o vreme încoace că nu mai are linişte în România de frica uncheşului său Dracula. Al cărui părinte Bram Stocker nu a apacat să-şi vadă opera postumă şi nevândută. Tuturor scriitorilor electronici aş vrea să le amintesc că această memorie de tip Google va rămâne pentru tot restul viitorului nostru şi că procurorii şi judecătorii într-o zi când nu-şi vor mai procura vor începe să iasă din spa-urile în care se bălăcesc cu infractorii să-şi mai vadă de treabă şi vor învăţa să mai dea şi câte un search. Până atunci, Dino, have a piece of my mind.

Dinescu, this charismatic dynamo of the Romanian post-revolutionary culture of the dead, a cook and an ultramodern poet, conservationist in the same time, keeps reminding us all since a while ago that he has no more rest in Romania because of the fear of his uncle Dracula, as stated 6 years ago and shown below. Whose parent Bram Socker died before he could see and sell his posthumous creation. To all electronic writers in Romania i wish to remind that this "Google type memory" will remain for the rest of our future and when the prosecutors and judges will stop procuring for themselves and start getting out of the spas where they relax together with the criminals maybe will start taking care of their normal business they are paid for by the people of Romania, and will also learn how to do a Google search. Until then, Dino, have a piece of my mind.

Saturday, August 18, 2012

Lake Oswego Ninja

Click on a picture to enlarge.

2010:03:26 09:10:51


September 2011:

Currently on google maps
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Friday, August 17, 2012

Scaraoţchi din balcon

De la vecin bineînţeles. Acum în locul lui este un palmier artificial gros cam de 10 cm care aproape atinge acoperişul.

Scara in Romanian means ladder or escalator, it's only one word for both. Like scala in Italian.

From the neighbor's balcony of course. Now in its place there's an artificial palm tree about 10 cm thick that nearly touches the roof's edge.

August 1995

A day i should celebrate. As Yolanda said. Yolanda is a friend of Mart-Maerz-Mârţ family. She and her son came in Oregon just before us. They stayed at the Marts just before us.

With borrwowed money and some little other money i had i went to Tarom with my yellow envelopes with the Green Card Lottery documents to buy two tickets to New York. They only had tickets for a Sunday at the beginning of August. Tarom flight nr. RO13, with a DC10 rented from a Belgium airline replacing the Airbus that crashed at Baloteşti. Captain Michel.

We arrived in New York on August 6. They kept us for 3 hours at the INS. Ron, my new friend from the plane was still waiting for us. With a native american guy. But i already made up my mind. We're still going to Oregon, at my ex-colleague Iulian Mârţ from Bacău. Ron was really disappointed. I still had $600 dollars. (There was a guy in the plane that said he had 100.000 dollars and needed help into smuggling those money through the customs but i refused).

I went to an airline counter in the airport. The price to Oregon, tickets bought on the spot was double of the $600 we had.

So the next day we took the Greyhound, as Iulian told me on the phone. After all i've read the book, Greyhound America. It should have been fun, we're gonna see lots of places. I remember the face of the woman at the counter when i bought the tickets. She gave me a look that in a way defined all that happened later. Bad sign.

Three days, two nights, 8 drivers, 5 buses. And the accident that almost happened that night when i and the guy behind the driver were the only people awake in the bus. The driver fell asleep the bus drifted on the freeway's shoulder and the black guy behind him gently taped him on the shoulder awaking him. He didn't panic and brought the bus back on the second lane. I remember something that really shocked me. He started laughing! Never stopped to catch his breath. Now i know why, the fear of being fired was bigger than his need for a comforting break.

On August 10 there we were, at the Greyhound station in Salem. Veronica was waiting for us, she took a little time from her work at that high tech silicon foundry (i forgot the company name, Wafertech i think), gave me a hug and another bad preview, whispering condescendingly in my ear: Gigi, Gigi... And then she took us directly to the Social Security office in Salem, watched everything we wrote in the applications, went with us at the counter and told the clerk that we're only temporary here... Although we had on the passports the stamp from INS at the airport that said "processed for I551", that is permanent residency... Which i told the clerk in plain English. The Mexican woman at the counter with the passports and applications in her hand looked at me, looked at Veronica, at me again then wrote something on the applications and two weeks later the cards came with the inscription "No right to work" on them. Veronica said something that she had a friend somewhere who's gone help us to get permits for work but the next day under some pretext i secretely went with Angela to Portland (fearing that they wouldn't let us) straight to the downtown Social Security office, i explained them the whole situation, they gave us new applications and in another two weeks new cards arrived, this time the right ones. And i was exercising my signature in English with the first name first on some yellow pieces of papers at the Marts so i could sing the cards...

And since then, daily, hourly and weekly hundreds, or thousands of similar situations... Yesterday i called Oregon State Bar Association asking for a referral. Every once in a while i do so. They asked me what i needed a lawyer for. And i told them, in any area of non-violent crime, i think there is no law that has not been broken in our regards.

And then yesterday at the WinCo store, this younger athletic tall blond guy standing at the other check stand checking in the same time so i could see him, with a 6 inch blade hanging on his waist belt. By the way, for many years after we came here WinCo was called Cub Foods...

And i just remembered while staying at the Marts, one day Veronica received the negative result for her breast cancer test...

And i really made my attempts to work around here... Until August 2000 i had 23 jobs... The longest one year... The shortest one day... Some of them are in the Resume with the link in this blog on the lower left area... But that is another story, hope i will be able to share it here...

08/14/2013:

1996, George's (Hirsovescu) House, Salem, Oregon. Cloe (wife), his daughter, Dan Onu, son-in-law (Boeing), Julian Mart, Angela.

Later i found out he was also associated was Associated with Aristotel Popescu, Iaşi, possibly with Peter Kiss, Portland Oregon.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Tar Balls

Not from Linux...

In these sunny days in the attic it gets like 120F. In Oregon. (I have one of the weather station's sensors in there. I wonder how it is in hotter states). The tiles of the roof are made of bitumen and tiny pieces of it break and fall through the cracks of the plywood underneath the tiles and mix with the insulation and start decomposing. The more volatile components go first and smell bad but the big problem is the nutrients that are coming from the barbecues. They rot in there and mix with the smell of tar and make a stink that combined with other stinks i described here earlier make your life very hard in a place like this. Tar is antibacterial but i think it favors some yeasts. When i opened the attic this morning to take a sample of the insulation that contains these (actually the tiny tar balls separated from the wool rock in the bottom of the bag i used and when shaken make a sound like they're already dried, the volatile components evaporated but they still smell) there was a back flow from the attic inside the apartment. That's because my next door neighbor has a window opened in the direction where the wind is coming from or the two fans in the window are working creating pressure that goes through the cracks or by the lid into the attic and make that smell to back flow into my apartment or through the intake above the kitchen window or through the vents. And because she/he had the fans started yesterday, the temperature in the attic didn't go that high at the expense of the back flow above the kitchen window. But yesterday morning when i had breakfast i had the kitchen window opened then i got really really sick, almost...

To take the macro below i used one more 55 mm fixed length camera lens held by hand at about one inch in front of my 70-105 equivalent Sony/Minolta lens with the zoom at maximum. First i put the focus on automatic and it did focus but for more precise focus i put the focus on manual ant then moved around until i got it. You may click or middle click on it to better view.

The distance between two graduations on the tape measure below is 1/32 inches. The tar samples have been shaken out of a small insulation sample that could been caught between two fingers but these are only a small part. The total amount is probably in the order of 1/10-1/100 of the total mass of the mineral fiber insulation.

(Macro photographs done with one extra 55 mm lens held by hand at one inch in front of the 28-105 mm stock lens of my Sony DSLR-300 set at maximum or 105 mm. The distance between the out of focus ruler divisions is 1/32 inch. Can click to enlarge)



Although it does not look like asbestos to me (in the picture looks more like it but in reality not, these fibers a lot shinier and more regulated) when i manipulated the sample that's already been shaken to extract the above sub-sample in the sunlight near the window i saw one million shiny sparkles that dissipated in a few seconds i don't know where, and i also felt the smell and the sting in my throat.

Or maybe... from here? http://www.flickr.com/photos/39325385@N07/7686495606/in/photostream Or here? http://www.flickr.com/photos/39325385@N07/9472963275/

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Ninja

Not about the movies.

As of 1986, there were 20 dojos for Togakure-ryū in Japan that house 100 instructors and around 100,000 students. There were also around 50 international dojos teaching Togakure-ryū outside of Japan


"
"Hensōjutsu (変装術?) was a Japanese martial art skill involving disguise, impersonation, and infiltration.

In some ninja clans it was known as the "Shichi Hō De" (七方出) or, "seven ways of going" (one form of ninjutsu that has a person play a role much like an actor does in impersonating people). A ninja had to appear either as a priest, samurai, merchant, craftsman, performer, puppeteer, or farmer. To accomplish this, the ninja was a well studied sociologist, observing people in other towns for long periods of time until, just like actors, ninjas could blend into the crowd. They acted like either one of the major classes to spy on people. Ninja thus sometimes carried one or two costumes to look like the other classes and kunoichi were specialists at Hensojutsu due to the importance of close contact missions. It also included the art of camouflage, such as mesh covered with leaves, grass, mud, bark etc. It is heavily reliant upon shadows and form manipulation..such as crouching to resemble a rock, twisting to match a bush, and also includes various ways one can "meld" into foliage to virtually disappear.

This is different from other methods in that the ninja needs only to appear like someone else for a short period of time. Ninja typically must learn the character traits of another class quickly and then impersonate the members of that class. For instance, if workers were walking in large numbers toward a worksite, using this skill the ninja observes the worker, copies the same clothing and walking style of the workers, then follows the crowd in just like the other workers. A good ninja ought to be able to impersonate anybody in terms of appearance."

It is interesting to mention that the first paragraph is written as about the past, as ninjutus " existed", and in the others at present.

Gaffe, as a Relief Valve

Every once in a while they try to discredit Wikipedia, like in the current attempt of joking with Romney's page. The wicked pedal. But they cannot reedit all the pages as they cannot alter our memory, the temple of our existence. "Despite his campaign's blunders, Ford managed to close the remaining gap in the polls and by election day the race was judged to be even."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_presidential_election,_1976#Results

It seems there are politicians that are professional candidates. They always successfully candidate, giving us the illusion that our favorite party actually has a fair chance.

And then there's the relief valve, the pacifier, the great balancer, when pressure is build up too high. Blunder in the past, now polished and re wrapped with the word gaffe and brought to an art, cause of course, you have to know how to do it without raising probable suspicion in a hopeful but weary elector. But for that they have polls and more modern feedback institutions.

And the symbolism of course. The parallel paradigmatic reality that governs our subconscient with its own logic and sequence of events.

Dole. It almost sound like doll or dull.

Anybody remember what senator Bob Dole did after his last campaign? What kind of advertisements? It looked to me at the time like he was the perfect candidate for those, bringing a bitter smile.

Almost as hermetic as Gorbachev's add for Pizza Hutt. Remember?



http://media.oregonlive.com/ohman_impact/photo/ohman080312jpg-95cede99a25bcb74.jpg

High Windows

Today i cleaned the vaulted ceiling windows above the couch where i watch TV and sometimes i sleep. (The other day i went to bed in bedroom and woke up on the couch). Haven't done it yet, in a couple of years. (I painted that area with an extension for the brush, the ladder was too short. The only time when the handyman came, when i moved, he sealed the windows with the silicon i bought. But i was too sick to the stomach to get up there on his ladder.) Full of dead bugs, spiders and ceiling pop corn. It stank like the primordial stink in the apartment, when  i worked a month before i moved and continued until today. So now it all still stinks inside from disturbing that shit. First i tried with a duster, then the vacuum cleaner. They are at least 4 meters above the floor so i had to improvise an extension for the vacuum. After that i took pictures with a camera tied at the end of a pole because i don't have a ladder that long and i cannot see in there. This is the left one, the one above the couch where i watch TV and sleep, with the cracked window, after vacuuming. But there are a lot of people around making noises and trying to suggest i was doing something else in here. Never heard a single kid yelling at the neighbors' pool after 8 PM. Today it was until after 9 or more. Especially when i was taking pictures of the vaulted ceiling windows.






Ambushed, by Crows

I saw several films and videos both on TV and youtube about the inteligence of Corvidae. Jays, crows, ravens. Their intelligence is compared to that of humans. To me it was very intriguing judging by the size of their brains. And yet i just saw a crow on youtube learning to use a tool.

Today i went again at Tryon creek. It is the only park when you can walk on hills for miles on a radius of many miles. There's shadow and it's cool when outside is hot. And today i needed it because i was feelling numb and paralyzed after that smoke came inside when my neighbor made some big noises like moving furniture and left.

But on the road there i saw a crow diving in a weird almost calculated way in front of my car then going back in the same tree or a close one visible on a branch. The same happened in the park near the entrance when i started walking.

And then i said to myself what if some people believed what the first paragraph says and took a chance and train  them to do different things. Like dolphins.

Earlier i saw a couple of jays from the balcony being buzzed by the tiny hummingbirds that visit my wife's flowers hourly. And i was thinking, what other places are they visiting before mine? I heard they also have a good memory and do the same route daily or many times a day.

I remember at the last place i was living a noisy, almost deafening fight between two groups of crows that took place for hours. And how i learned what an American Robin is by listening one for 8 hours a day for months, in each spring. One night i was awake and heard one of my neighbors at 3 AM whistling on a high pitch until awoke the poor robin that started to sing and then it kept singing until noon. (There must have been some other tricks involved like bird hormones i don't know).

And then of course there's the humans with kids that i meet on trails in the most unexpected ways and places. Almost always where there are tiny freshly bent branches that always make me bow in the last moment in order to avoid them getting in my eyes. Today, it happened to me twice, once immediately after the entrance after the crow episode and once deep in the forest on a sloppy trail with many trees and branches.

Friday, August 10, 2012

Bela


M-am lămurit zilele acestea cât de puţini români înţeleg ce se întâmplă. Orice ar fi, nu cred că strică să aduc noi informaţii lămuritoare, chestii ce sunt de notorietate în alte ţări. Alte ţări mai aşezate, mai stabile, cu oameni mai maturi care pot să facă faţă acestor probleme. În idea că poate unii vor începe să extrapoleze ce spun eu pe aici şi la alte chestii pentru a-şi da seama de dimensiunea problemei.

De exemplu aici la nu ştiu ce post de radio era o reclama cu o firmă locală de lipo...sucţie Sono Bello. Un joc de cuvinte care în italiană înseamnă sunt frumos iar în engleză aproape sunet de clopot. În reclamă era alternat cuvântul Bello cu Bell iar pentru un vorbitor de italiana reprezenta aşa un fel de poticnire, Sono Bell. Dar mai rezonează şi cu Bela Lugosi, cel ce a dat viaţă, acum aproape 100 de ani personajului Dracula, într-un teatru pe Broadway, scos dintr-o carte care nici nu s-a vândut când a fost publicată prima dată. (De fapt vedeam recent la OPB un film despre Anglia şi chiar spunea prezentatorul, comandantul vasului rusesc Demeter care a eşuat în Anglia, cu care se presupune ca a ajuns Dracula acolo a existat, a fost arestat, într-adevăr, dar din cauză că era beat. LOL acu' m-am prins, şi aici coincidenţă?) Din cauză că şi aici ca şi în alte ţări (Dacă vă întreb repede cum îl cheamă pe actorul ăla răutăcios din Dallas, ce o să spuneţi, JR, nu Larry Hagmann? Cu alte cuvinte numele Lary Hagman va fi întotdeauna asociat cu JR, Patrick Duffy cu Bobby, etc.. Iar despre Sue Ellen, cine ştie cum o cheamă pe actriţă?) lumea de multe ori confundă actorul cu persoanjul, Bela este sinomim cumva cu Dracula. Normal, cineva ar spune aici că lumea a uitat acele reprezentări pe Broadway, normal, ar fi trebuit să le uite dar nu, nu le-a uitat şi aceasta este realitatea, de ce, nu ştiu exact. A normal au fost finanţate şi făcute atâtea filme cu Dracula de-a lungul timpului, am impresia că de pe vremea filmului mut. http://images.search.yahoo.com/search/images;_ylt=A2KJkIccjCVQezYAKSiJzbkF?p=dracula+poster&fr=sfp&ei=utf-8&n=30&x=wrt&y=Search

Şi Bela nu scapă nici o ocazie de a ieşi în public, de exemplu acum cu pierderea medaliei de bronz a lui Ponor, pentru că nu-i aşa, românii trebuie să ia argintul, silver, care rimează cu Transilvania şi SUV-ul SILVERADO şi cu multe alte lucruri pe care nu am curaj să le scriu aici. De fapt s-ar putea să regret şi ce am scris deja. (Chiar am auzit că celălalt Belu am uitat cu îl cheamă care antrenează zburătoarele noastre de la aparate, se retrage din antrenoriat împrenuă cu Mariana Bit-ang).

Există în Statele Unite o întreagă cultură vie, destinată lui Dracula. Întreţinută de anumite persoane. Iar unii români tineri care nu înţeleg ce se întâmplă glumesc ca tâmpiţii dându-se în spectacol, ca acesta să poată continua. De belea, bestial, etc.

Şi acum o întrebare către concetăţeni. De ce credeţi voi că îşi muşcă unii atleţi medaliile la olimpiadă? http://www.cnn.com/2012/08/09/living/olympians-bite-medals/index.html?hpt=hp_c2

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Crooked Stripes on I5

How hard is to draw a straight stripe on a highway? I assume it's much easier than to build one and yet the surface of I5 is pretty straight but the stripes are crooked. I only could take a few pictures between Wilsonville and 217 and these are not the worst places. It is a very easy way to ruin the work of other people who built the highway and make it a little less safe for drivers. The same with 217. Or maybe studies found that it's safer when it's less monotonous... Or maybe ther're hidden subliminal messages in that modulation...










But nothing can surpass what i saw today on KATU web site:


http://www.katu.com/news/weird/Road-crew-paints-yellow-line-over-dead-raccoon-165642176.html

I have to confess first i laughed then i remembered about the pictures i took yesterday and made the effort to put them here since i risked my life and my wife's life to take those. But this is no joke since it can ad to other problems on the road. And it became a habit in Oregon in the last years. The worst i can remember is in Beaverton or Portland, on 217 near the end at Barnes road, under 26 overpass.

I apologize for the greenish taint and poor focus on my pictures it's because they've been taken through the windshield. And of course i couldn't possibly stop to take them properly, so many times.

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

George nu mai vede nici un ban….

De câte ori trebuie să spun? Mi-am făcut blog din cauza Simonei Tache... Sau nu invers ea şi-a făcut din cauza mea pentru că primul meu blog, cu care am dat-o în bara tare şi am luat-o şi pe cocoaşe a fost cândva în toamna lui 2006 înainte sau în timpul vizitei lui Băse în SUA, în ziua când s-a dat şi Tări pe motor. Deci prin 2010 cred am intrat să comentez pe blogul Simonei Tache, cu numele Gheo şi... Şi de la aia era să mi se tragă ceva, nu mi s-a tras, iar până la urmă am devenit prea disturbing pentru ea şi m-a dat afară, cândva anul acesta, după ce am fost banat un timp din motive tehnice necunoscute şi am revenit. Când i-am şi zis de altfel, bă tu nu eşti Simona Tache eşti Timona Sache, nepoată a lui Vântu şi acu zic şi eu posibilă alter ego al Anei Maria Vlas. Iar în timpul acela când am fost pe afară m-am gândit ia să-mi trag eu mie un blog... Pe atunci nu eram aşa expert în paradigme dar totuşi am simţit aşa ceva neplăcut la coincidenţa acestei postări. (Nu sunt eu acel George care comentează la acest post) Voi toţi ce ziceţi?



Şi ca să nu uit, apropo de datul în bară, am impresia că Pontiful şi al său Antonescu sau invers se pregătesc s-o dea în bară (aici chiar trebuie o virgulă) cu finalizarea unicului scop rămas logic al acestei lovituri de concediu pentru Băsescu adică de a ne aduce nouă confuzii în cvorum, pentru următoarele alegeri.

A şi "codul" cu care se "înrămează" alt site într-un blog. Între ghilimele se poate pune orice site, cu mici excepţii, de exemplu nu merg căutări de imagini de pe pe google. heigth şi width reprezintă mărimea "ramei" în pixeli. Mai sunt şi alţi parametri care nu i-am folosit. Sau un video de pe youtube. Youtube generează la cerere acest cod dacă se apasă butonul Share de sub video şi apoi Embed. Se copy şi apoi paste codul în blog sau pe orice site dacă permite uşor editare HTML, probabil şi pe facebook (da uitaţi aici http://www.wikihow.com/Post-a-YouTube-Video-on-Facebook) , după ce se apasă tabul HTML (la blogger, nu ştiu la WordPress cum se face, probabil foarte asemănător). La video se pot modifica de asemena heigth şi width sau ceilalți parametri, şi la fel probabil mai sunt şi alţii.

<iframe height="700" src="http://www.simonatache.ro/2010/11/15/bai-george-esti-gay/" width="700"></iframe>

<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="525" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Lp2qcCrdBLA" width="700"></iframe>

Nu e nimic magic.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

The Idiots





The author of the first article in Romanian forgot to bring to Romanians' attention one of the most important paragraphs in the original article, "None of Romania's universities are ranked among the top 500."

I wish The Economist the best of luck in deciphering the complexity of this issue. I'm sure with the today's advancements in psychology, sociology and other disciplines many of the scholars of their own major universities could explain for us many of the aspects of the phenomenon, given time and motivation. And maybe they are already doing it for private or privileged entities, for the right compensation.

But the author just tackle the issue and brings to us only the short term with possible economic effects implications leaving place for many interpretations and of course, as many other press articles do, with no suggested solutions.

We are also noticing here the irony of the question in the title quoting a president that he uses himself a very old and advanced type of twisted psychology pointing sarcastically a problem that himself helped create.

Nobody is an idiot. But people, many times do exploitable, idiotic things. Sometimes on subconscious demand.

However, there are enough people in Romania who may understand well this problem but choose not to talk or whose silence have been bought or whose voice have been covered by well targeted noise or corrupted by political forces  that make confusion, corruption, mass ignorance, some of their tools in taking over that country.

Interestingly enough, i think they also have some kind of philosophy that covers their own conscience, thinking slowly eliminating "the garbage" or those who give in to the pressure of corruption they create, or "bury themselves" in sweet ignorance, for the future good of the country, (but not necessarily the people of the current generation) ("Uneori ca să îţi salvezi poporul trebuie mai întâi să salvezi ţara") (We all so well heard that for generations... "Generaţii de sacrificiu").  And when they do not fully succeed, they threat, frame and blackmail, trying especially to show to their own that is doable.

But if somebody would ask me i would say the problem has even deeper roots. It starts simply with the interdiction of talking of certain things, during the harshest period of the communist era. People were fearing their own family members as being possible informants. Once the habit formed, in a generation or two they relaxed the repression and started using softer methods and made the country look in many aspects similar to western countries and the habit was handed down throughout generations and changed form and became part of the culture. I don't know if it's not too obvious what i will try now to say, but by not talking about certain things in time generations stopped thinking at those things and those things were so related to the exercising of the most basic of human activities or rights that it lead to an atrophy of some area of personality for entire generations.

For reasons that may be known to the authors of the original article, Romania, thanks in part to its above quoted president is more visible internationally than other ex-communist countries but i think is safe to assume the phenomenon is similar.

It is also possible that Romania was somewhat treated specially and prepared for the future within the eastern block due to its potential as being a closer resemblance with western European countries and civilizations.

Monday, August 6, 2012

Domnul preşedinte

Unul din motivele pentru care poate am ajuns ce-am ajuns este că pe vremea înainte mergătorului şi pregătitorului Ceauşescu, ce a creat situaţia şi (pregătit cadrele) în care am ajuns pe bazele puse de cei ce ne-au adus în occident (nu ştiu dacă au avut vreodată un plan să şi ne păstreze acolo) a fost că toată ziua înainte de decembrie 89 criticam regimul. Găsisem o şmecherie, cum nu mai aveam program TV la care puteam să ne uităm, mi-am făcut şi eu ca tot băcăuanul antenă de ruşi şi prindeam Chişinăul, Moscova I şi II. Cu pureci şi aleatoriu. Şi ascultam Europa Liberă, îmi legasem o sârmă subţire de antena vecinului, care trecea prin faţa geamului meu (mai târziu am aflat că era ofiţer în armată) deci îi piratam antena. La servici comentam tot ce auzeam la Europa Liberă şi dacă mă întreba cineva de unde am auzit chestiile alea spuneam că de la Chişinău. Începuse perestroika şi glasnostul şi se auzeau şi la ei multe chestii neauzite la noi dar nu chiar ca la Europa Liberă. Într-o zi un tovarăş Felix (Nume real, altă coincidenţă) angajat de la IIRUC m-a chemat la el în birou, era de fapt o cameră plină cu aparatură unde lucrau cei de la IIRUC detaşaţi la IMU şi m-a prelucrat. Asta a fost cu puţin timp înainte de decembrie 89.

Dar ca pedeapsă, probabil că tovarăşii s-au gândit să-mi arate mie cum e democraţia şi peste ani chestia a contribuit cel puţin pe plan etic probabil la decizia care m-a trimis unde sunt acum. Dar cu handicap, fiind sabotat de la început de un alt tovarăş care a venit înainte cu vreo 2 luni din Florida în Oregon şi a trimis CV-ul meu peste tot spunând că e al lui. Şi probabil o poveste antemergătoare de speriat copiii de atunci.

La Chişinău la televizor vorbeau o limbă puţin diferită. Bunel în loc de bu-nic, micuţi în loc de copii, dar mai important, ziceau prezident şi nu preşe-dinte. Nu ştiu cum ziceau la paşa-port. Cred că pe atunci foloseau cuvântul rusesc. Iar toate formulările de adresare se terminau cu другие друзья.

Iliescu azi a apărut iar în presă cu cravată roşie, de pionier. Dar eu tot nu mai cred că Iliescu e pionier sau pro rus. Iar dacă vrea cineva să vadă o statuie de pionier reală, să se uite la poza de mai jos. (poza are rezoluţie bună, merită un clic)



http://www.flickr.com/photos/73441567@N00/3543397757/lightbox/

Ceea ce îmi aminteşte de...



http://www.flickr.com/photos/39325385@N07/3847142217/lightbox/

Cursuri gratuite

Cursuri gratuite online la cele mai mari universităţi

Sunday, August 5, 2012

Deconstruirea numerologiei

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: George Ion <george.ion.email@gmail.com>
Date: 2012/8/4
Subject: Fake information, polution
To: xyz@yahoo.com


Nu ştiu dacă ştiai de jocul acela mental, era aşa. Trebuia să-i spui cuiva "spune repede un număr cuprins între 12 şi 5" sau ceva asemănător. (primul număr era între 11 şi 19 iar al doilea între 1 şi 9 dar astfel alese încât rezultatul scăderii între primul şi al doilea să fie o singură cifră). Bun. Deci pe orice persoană neavizată pe care am întrebat (să nu ştie despre jocul acesta) dacă nu a stat să se gândească sincer de loc răspunsul a fost absolut totdeauna diferenţa între primul şi al doilea număr, în cazul de mai sus 7. Eu am citit asta de mult într-un ziar românesc normal comunist şi (LOL îmi întârzie cursorul pe ecran când scriu am spioni la greu în calc) şi explicaţia era că creierul sau acel proces din creier care face scăderi face automat scăderea între primul şi al doilea număr (LOL acu sună telefonul care este pe aceeaşi linie cu DSL-ul) deci creierul face automat scăderea şi sugerează părţii conştiente un rezultat.

Deci 18.3. Ai să spui ce contează dacă era 18.2 sau 18.4 fiindcă oricum nu era real. Contează fiindcă creierul face automat împărţirea 18 la 3 şi rezulta 6, sau 18 e compus din 3 de 6, un număr sperietoare. Deci cine vede numărul acesta procesorul i se încălzeşte puţin, creierul îşi aprinde alte regiuni şi apare o distragere de la fenomenul real şi de la alte suspiciuni care ar trebui să le trezească.

Nu m-aş gândi la chestiile astea dacă nu aş vedea permanent pe maşini numere din astea. Eu cred că pe asta se bazează numerologia, pe operaţii aritmetice subconştiente din creier.

Ai să spui că e ok să foloseşti numerologia dacă are un scop bun şi pentru cei care o folosesc şi pentru mulţime care şi aşa nu ştie să se conducă singură şi aleargă mereu spre această iluzie care e democraţia. Iar eu am să spun că orice informaţie falsă transmisă poluează adică creşte entropia universului şi pe termen lung aduce ghinion iar dacă e transmisă în masă cu atât mai mult.
Şi mai naşpa când băieţii răi învaţă carte şi încep să folosească numerologia aceasta în alte scopuri decât nobile.

The Microwave as a Stove Top

Never use a microwave as a stove top. Why? because it gets full of shit and in a couple a years at most depending on how much you cook or heat up both on the stove and in the microwave. When i moved in here @March 2010 it was in the same position, i took it apart as i did today and put all the smaller parts in the dishwasher which by the way was in a similar state, and i cleaned the rest of it and put it back together. Didn't pay attention to the fact that by design the air from underneath doesn't go directly through a fan to the exhaust but through a labyrinth of ducts impossible to clean. And there is back flow from design with not enough sealing of the joints, besides the back flow at the joint with the exhaust. Never thought it was so important.








After washing just to show lack of sealing. There was no seal or gaskets on the high pressure side just the box itself in top of the fan housing sitting at an average of 1 mm distance after carefully tightnening all screw. By the way, the top of the box warps under weight near the two bolts that it hangs from under the the cabinet.




The last piece of duct of the high pressure part slides too easily in place with a play of mm. In the left side there was a big back flow both in front and rear. In rear you can see the stain on the wall. In front it was coming through the middle area of the upper grill (not shown in any picture) where was a large area of dead space  and in the room just above the stove where we were cooking. All cooked food was spiced up with up to 2 years old stuff. That combined with ohter factors were contributing to making me sick. You couldn't feel the smell because every time you start the stove there is a few seconds of smell from the spiral heaters until they heat up because they get sprinkled with tiny droplets of oil that cannot be washed and you mostly don't see.

Even if the microwave was new it was the same. I washed this one up two years ago as i said in the beginning. It was clean like new. Like right now. But it has a bad design and the whole concept of putting it in top of a stove is idiotic.

Ok  8/5 1:50 PM. While trying to install an extra fan in the duct i discovered the one way valve in top of the black square box in the picture above was only opening about 1/4 because it was hitting the adapter, visible above the oven in the cabinet in the first picture. Because of the misalignment with the duct they used an asymmetrical adapter. The curve at the corner is preventing the rectangular piece of aluminum that makes the valve to open all the way. Probably depending on how much you push the adapter in. When i removed that valve the flow grew a lot bigger. It probably wouldn't have back flowed that much.

Friday, August 3, 2012

Neologisme naşpa

"Deconstruiţi hermeneutica!"

Eu unul m-am săturat de intelectuali savanţi români care vin se urcă în presă în faţa novicilor şi se dau mari folosind unul sau două cuvinte neştiute de nimeni (poate nici de ei) câştigând astfel autoritate morală. Am să încerc aici să demistific cât mai multe astfel de cuvinte.

Sinergie

http://dexonline.ro/definitie/sinergie

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Synergy

http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Synergie

Deci două fapte independente care devin cauză pentru un efect uneori mai mult decât cumulativ.

Sintagma

Sintagma e chiar mai special fiindcă după cum sugerează şi numele arată un raport temporal între doi termeni.

http://dexonline.ro/definitie/sintagm%C4%83

http://ro.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Sintagm%C4%83&redirect=no

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Syntagm

http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Syntagme 

http://www.aber.ac.uk/media/Documents/S4B/sem03.html

"Temporally, syntagmatic relations refer intratextually to other signifiers co-present within the text, whilst paradigmatic relations refer intertextually to signifiers which are absent from the text"

Şi după cum anticipează graficul, co-axa ei paradigma.

Deci ce e sintagma? O secvenţă de cuvinte care dau un mesaj definit. Ce e paradigma? O posibilă înlocuire a unor cuvinte pentru a schimba sensul acestui mesaj. Acestea sunt peste tot într-o limbă inteligibilă, iar unii pretenţioşi îşi definesc expresiile ca "sintagme" ca să devină ciudate şi memorabile pentru că majoritatea incluzând subprofilatul nu ştiu ce înseamnă aceste cuvinte, dacă înseamnă ceva. Nişte definiţii savante pentru părţi de vorbire obişnuite. Practic are sens numai între specialişti în lingvisitică. Care nu au alt scop într-o conversaţie normală decât de a crea ascendenţă morală şi subordonare mentală. Adică a se da mare, cu succes garantat. Iar folosind cuvinte ce se ştie sigur că nu sunt şi nu vor fi înţelese de majoritate e un abuz conştient.

Am ameţit de o oră de căutat prin zeci de dicţionare şi wikipedii. Şi acum le avem la un clic sau la un search pe toate, ce timpuri mişto pentru tineri studenţi. Dar dacă mai văd sau mai aud vreodată pe unul spunând aşa ştiu ce am să comentez.

Urmează:

Semantică

Semiotică

Hermeneutică sau exegeză

Thursday, August 2, 2012

DE CE

I know some people would do anything to make me stop writing on this blog. But i wouldn't write about Romanian politics anyway anymore, i already decided that. At least for a while. Maybe i should start writing this like a log.

I really hoped things would somehow get fixed, maybe get a job, maybe some money from people who owe me and never had to write this here. But that might very well never happen.

I barely got out from a "road rage" incident when a 70-80s black Chevy with modified suspension and exhaust and huge tires was trying to back-up from the alley where i live, ocuppying both lanes and making big noise and smoke almost climbed on my little S10. There was a "witness", a guy with a dog in a black T shirt with some white drawing on it nearby. I can imagine what would have happen if i was tried to confront the guy. I just passed him and went to the other alley.

But this is just the last incident. I was thinking maybe i should start to say how i got here in the first place. But the story is too long and now i would try to write it backwards. Earlier i tried to drive to the only open liquor store after 8 about 6 miles from where here where i live. Every intersection, an opportunity for accident. On the freeway, there was like 10 cars trying to aggress me, it's too long to remember and write it here but it was worse than usually. Every time is. Subtle enough not to raise suspicions to unaware people though. If there's anyone left. At the store, in the line, in front of me, a white guy with shaved hair was talking way too much with the cashier, buying and unbuying things, packing and unpacking until behind me grew a line. Earlier i saw a woman with a wet, cold, just pulled from the fridge gallon of milk in her hand buying liquor. I salivated instantly because i drink lots of milk. Etc. Then he synchronized and drove on the alley in the parking lot in front of me with a 30 year old car. All the turns until i got on the boulevard. I didn't even start the ventilation in the car. On the way back the same show. It's good though today not every time when i turned my head i saw someone drinking or sucking from a jug. Cause this was the last trend of the last  year. If i passed someone with a smoking car and look at him/her he would pull a jug with drink and start drinking with big thirst.

Before that. This whole apartment where i live sometimes i think it was build from recycled stuff and designed especially to get people sick. Especially the exhaust from the cooking stove that instead of going vertically and through the roof and then a few more feet upwards like a chimney, it goes almost horizontally about 7 meters to the other side of the roof and opens inside the attic where there is a flat vent. Even if it pushes the odor from the kitchen outside, the flow sticks to the building and comes back through the windows. Many times i said i wouldn't use it but sometimes i forget. And when it's hot the temperature in the attic goes to 110 F and more and everything there is in that 6 inch x 7 meter exhaust rots and smells really bad. It happens only in the afternoon when it gets hot and if i forget to start the fan and push some air in it i get sick before i realize it because the smell grows gradually. And if a plane passes by it vibrates and some of the stuff gets pushed inside the room. And i only realized this today. Or maybe i did before but i wasn't sure or i forgot. Don't get me wrong, i have a good memory but there's too many things going on. Then i leave the place because i'm so sick but just by driving around i get some fresher air and then come back later when it's cooler. But because of what happens on the streets i usually forget why and how seek i was when i left. About a year ago i closed the joint between the exhaust and the vent under the roof so the stuff cannot get back into the attic and goes all through the vent and put a one way valve on the end near the stove but on hot days like today it doesn't really help. But the vent is still flat and doesn't have a chimney. It only helps if i cycle some fresh air for about an hour through it. Today i put some enzyme from the pet store that decomposes stuff and has some deodorant in it.

In short, i spend hours every day just to clean or fix the place. Most of the time i'm sick because i'm sensitive to smell and also sick to the stomach. But it always happens in the afternoon when my next door neighbor and my wife are at work and i'm alone. Sometimes i feel like fainting or paralyzed to my spine. My wife lost some of her sensitivity to smell because of the chemo back in the fall of 2004, but she wasn't so sensitive in the first place. It's between a half time and full time job every day in a very bad environment. Not counting the trips at home improvement stores and the thousands of dollars i spent and hundreds of receipts i try to keep. I just finish fixing one stinking obnoxious thing then another one starts. I will try and continue to write this backwards but right now one of my neighbors maybe the one that's a real estate agent, the one who dug a whole withe her Mercedes power steered wheels in the asphalt, by turning the wheels to the right after the car is stopped make some really weird noises that seem synchronized with my keyboard or something. Sounds like moving stuff around but i'm not sure. She does that frequently when she's at home. Monday she "forgot" the TV on all morning after she or somebody else made a big noise and woke me up at 6 am after 5 hours of sleep. That day and the following i was really like a zombie.

Yesterday no Tuesday was gardening day at my neighbors. By the pool. Almost 5 hours two power tools of over 100 dB each in the same time where trimming and blowing the fences and bushes. My ears where hurting, literally. And my brain was scrambled inside.

And then there's my down stairs neighbor. The Italian looking guy. The apartment underneath is vacated since last September. One more level down. The guy smokes some slow burning natural untreated cigarettes that smell really really bad. When he leaves for work i think, before noon, he opens the bedroom window and then i have to close mine. Depending on the wind, sometimes it comes from the other way, from the kitchen. I have to be very careful opening the windows cause it can get worse.

A few days ago i looked at a small ball of mineral insulation from the attic with a strong magnifying glass. Actually with a camera lens pulled out of the camera. Among fibers i say tiny maybe a few hundredth of a mm tar or rubber particles, or both. That explains the hellish smell of the attic, combined with cigarette smoke. Especially when it gets hot like today at 110F. The tiles of the roof are made of bitumen and sand. There's washed out bitumen and sand from the tiles in the gutters.

By the time my wife got home a quarter to midnight i almost fainted. I opened the balcony door to get some air and the neighbor was having a glass of some alcoholic drink visible on the side of the balcony. I opened the bottle, poured myself a shot of rum and tried not to faint until my wife gets home. Then when she entered the door a few minutes later i got better as i always do. Drink or not. Then she got mad and threw my 12 dollar bottle of rum i risked my life for in the sink. She never done that before. I didn't want to argue too much especially because the voice of the neighbor in the balcony speaking on the phone "got scared". I went to the supermarket and bought some beer, again avoiding a cohort of mostly small and old and smelly cars that were showing out of nowhere at this hour in every intersection. All liquor stores are closed after ten. I was actually tempted of stopping and enter in a bar, i saw the Lure was opened. Never been in a bar before since 1995 when i came here. Only once in a restaurant where they serve alcoholic beverages. No, i once had a beer at Spaghetti Old Factory.

But now i don't feel like drinking anymore. Maybe watch some TV and go to sleep. Ok, i opened a bottle of beer and reread and corrected typos and mistakes of what i wrote before. Now i think i begin to feel like a philosopher again.

Drugs vs Alcohol

For evolutionists only.

Drugs came much later in humans' lifes because they needed fire or refining to be used as they are used today. Even when fire was discovered they never abused drugs until modern days. Alcohol was used and abused from much older times and actually by other species too even before humans existed, in the form of rotten fruit. That's why humans have a gene that alows them to metabolize alcohol. Their brain or mind also is probably better adapted psychologically to the effects of it. With drugs, a totally different story. Europeans actually never came in contact with them until great explorations' times. That's why they have so much more devastating effects on humans' psychic.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Paralel Universes II


Building From Mistakes

Or expoliting sins.

How to build a case from mistakes. Or how to frame someone "without breaking the law". Impossbile would say some, but a big organization can instruct its people to commit small intentional coverable hard to detect "mistakes" in regards to a single individual in order to frame him. Every time a "mistake" is discovered is being fallen back on the previously carefully designed cover or in rare cases declared as such. Almost impossible to prove anything if well designed. Some mistakes can even have dual or multiple purposes.

That doesn't mean no law was broken. If the law means anything for such organization. And then all it remains is pointing fingers and punish and the punishment will be guilt proving but not correcting and being mostly illicit, provocative and grounds for new framings and restarting the cycle. The "public" illicit surveillance that doesn't function always because it's improvised and can be edited in real time or with a delay and can be active part of causing restarting the cycle if conducted "right".

If anything can be proven of the described scheme there will be small unrelated parts of it but with high price and generating new understandable novice's mistakes in the process. And those new mistakes will be analyzed in real time by supercomputers and integreted in the bigger picture.

The other part of the job is being done by the uninvited observer's wrong assumptions.

If you choose to stick your nose in somebody else's life you can be passive or active part of it and in the end, you'll still pay the admittance ticket to the show.

It is the past and the future of sociology that happens today my friends.

In most games you can win both by being better and by other's mistakes. But some people have no choice like new immigrants or other categories to be passive and some specialize only in nurturing and winning by adversary's mistakes.

One little thing i forgot here. How they can integrate and synchronize in real time two people's activities. The activities of two rather relaxed people can be interrupted in restarted in certain moments by distractions or triggers in such ways that their activities can influence each other and synergize in order to create a false impression, of course by using again, supercomputers. And of course they can have their own people that are remotely instructed of what to do and interfere without actually making contact with the subjects or the impressions a third party would have on the whole.

Băsescu vodă cel nebun

(Un mic eseu despre simbolism)

Băsescu şi ai lui: L'état, c'est moi! Après moi, le déluge!

Împreună cu al său ministru suveran Ponta, cu al său Ioan Rus şi chiar cu temporalul Antontescu, al cărui nume vine din trecut şi sună şi futuristic în acelaş timp, au adus ţara pe noi culmi ale ruşinii şi care după tot ce au făcut ne fac pe toţi să credem că România nu mai poate exista fără ei. Am devenit toţi şantajabili în iluziile noastre.

Am ajuns acum să regretăm chiar şi vremurile când România era condusă de înaintemergătorul actualul puşcăriaş Nasty cu sau fără ouă care totuşi ne număra pe noi corect la referendumuri. Naivitatea se plăteşte dar vina sa cea mai mare a fost că ne-a făcut să înţelegem de unde vine pseudonimul unei cunoscute dive americane. A şi l-a arestat şi pe Bivolaru. Sau puşcăria e poate doar o versiune de asigurat securitatea personală mai ieftină, ca probabil în cazul Anei Maria Vlas.

Iar restul zilelor noastre, care începe azi, după o cunoscută expresie americană, depinde numai de imaginaţia lor, a celor fără ruşine care de fapt nu au altă treabă decât să proiecteze visele lor diurne asupra noastră.

Toghether with his minister suveran Ponta, with his Ioan Rus and even with the temporal Antonescu whose name comes from the past and sounds so fu-turistic in the same time, they brought our country on new levels of shame and after all they've made us all believe that Romania can not exist anymore without them. We became all blackmailable in our illusions.

We came to regret even the times when Romania was lead by their forruner current jailbird Nastase with or without balls, who was counting us though correctly at referendums. The naivety costs but his biggest mistake was to reveal to us all the meaning of a well known American diva Nick name. And he arrested Bivolaru too. Or maybe jail in this case is just a cheaper way to ensure his security, like probably in the case of Ana Maria Vlas.

And the rest of our lives that begins today, according to a well known American expression, depends only of the above mentioned's imagination, of the ones without shame or honor, that have no other job but to project
their daydreams over us.