Some kind of sea creature I suppose.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Minirobots
In "Mini robots to undertake major tasks?," IST Results describes a EU-funded project which allowed to build several kinds of microrobots in the last three years. These robots are very small (about 1.5 cm by 3 cm), have limited on-board intelligence and are wirelessly controlled by a central robot control system. A follow-on project has already started, with an even more ambitious goal: deploy "real" swarms of up to 1,000 robot clients. Such robot swarms are expected to perform "a variety of applications, including micro assembly, biological, medical or cleaning tasks."
P.S. I didn't write that.
Mini robots
P.S. I didn't write that.
Mini robots
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Olympic announcers
After just watching Irina Slutskayas performance in the ladies' figure skating, I have to lodge a complaint against the announcers while she was performing. Since the very start, one female announcer has been talking constantly, more than necessary, with a voice that sounds as if she has perpetual constipation, and that's filled with palpable jealousy of the skaters. The others just talk on and on about every single one of the skater's faults, without shutting up, thus provoking my mom to literally yell "SHUT UP!" at the TV screen at one point. Come on you people, be quiet and let the viewers watch without your help!
Friday, February 17, 2006
Blooming stocks
Suddenly the stocks opened fully and revealed thir true color - white. And they smell divine, too.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Remedios Varo
This is the hermit. He is now beyond normal time and space; his body is made up of two triangles, one upright and one inverted, which form a six-pointed star, symbol of time and space in ancient esoteric teachings. Inside his open chest there is a yin-yang symbol representing inner harmony. This is the most beautiful symbol of all, for it is enclosed in a circle, and has come to signify equilibrium.
This is very funny!
A Transcript to
Tony Appel's Guide to the Orchestra
The members of the orchestra are divided into four sections. These are woodwinds, the strings, the brass, and the percussion. There's also someone standing in front of all these folks playing no instrument at all. This would be the conductor. It is generally required that the conductor is required to make musical decisions and to hold all of the instruments together in a cohesive interpretation of any given work. Not so. Rather, the conductor is necessary because the four groups would rather eat Velveeta than have anything to do with someone from another section. And, as we all know, musicians are quite serious about their food.
Why all the animosity? Before I begin my explanation, let me set the record straight in plain English about some of the characteristics that typify the four groups.
The woodwind players have IQs in the low- to mid- genius range. Nerds with coke-bottle glasses and big egos, blowers tend to be extremely quiet, cowering behind bizarre-looking contraptions -- their instruments -- so nobody will notice them. It is often difficult to discern whether a wind player is male or female.
String players are neurotic prima donnas who won't even shake your hand for fear of permanent injury. A string player will never look you directly in the eye and they don't bathe carefully . . . or often.
Brass players are loud-mouthed drunkards who bully everyone with the possible and occasional exception of a stray percussionist. They like to slick their hair back. Nobody knows why.
Percussionists are insensitive oafs who constantly make tasteless jokes at the expense of the strings and woodwinds. They look very good in concert attire but have the worst table manners of all the musicians. They are always male, or close enough. Now, is it any wonder orchestra members have little to do with anyone outside of their own section? For the answer to this and other pertinent questions we will need to examine the individual instrument and the respective -- if not respected -- players of each section.
The woodwinds.
Oboe players are seriously nuts. They usually develop brain tumors from the extreme pressure built up over years of playing this rather silly instrument. Oboists suffer from a serious Santa Claus complex, spending all their waking hours carving little wooden toys for imaginary children, although they will tell you they are putting the finishing touches on the world's greatest reed. Oboists can't drive and always wear clothes one size too small. They all wear berets and have special eating requirements which are endlessly annoying and which are intended to make them seem somewhat special. English horn players are losers and always dress better than oboists. They cry at the drop of a beret.
Bassoon players are downright sinister. They are your worst enemy, but they come on so sweet that it is hard to catch them at their game. Here's an instrument that's better seen that heard. Bassoon players like to give the impression that theirs is a very difficult instrument to play, but the truth is that the bassoon only plays one or two notes per piece and is therefore only heard for a minute in any given evening. However, in order to keep their jobs -- their only real concern -- they act up a storm doing their very best to look busy.
It takes more brawn, and slightly less brain, to play contrabassoon. They are available in pawn shops in large numbers -- the instruments as well as the players -- and they play the same three or four numbers as the tuba, although not quite as loud or beautiful.
Okay, now we come to the flute. Oversexed and undernourished is the ticket here. The flute player has no easier time of getting along with the rest of the orchestra than anyone else, but that won't stop them from sleeping with everyone. Man and woman alike, makes no difference. The bass flute is not even worth mentioning. Piccolos, on the other hand, belong mainly on the fifty yard line of a football field where the unfortunate audience can maintain a safe distance.
The clarinet is, without a doubt, the easiest of all orchestral instruments to play. Clarinets are cheap, and the reeds are literally a dime a dozen. Clarinetists have lots of time and money for the finest wines, oriental rugs, and exotic sports cars. They mostly have no education, interest, or talent in music, but fortunately for them they don't do much. Clarinets come in various sizes and keys -- nobody knows why. Don't ask a clarinetist for a loan, as they are stingy and mean. Some of the more talented clarinetists can learn to play the saxophone. Big deal.
Let's continue with the real truth about . . .
The Strings
We begin with the string family's smallest member: the violin. The violin is a high-pitched, high-tension instrument. It's not an easy instrument to play. Lots of hard music is written for this instrument. Important things for a violinist to keep in mind are: Number one -- the door to your studio should be left slightly open so everyone can hear your brilliant practice sessions. Number two: you should make disparaging remarks about the other violinists whenever possible, which is most of the time. And number three: you should tell everyone how terribly valuable your instrument is until they drool.
The viola is a large and awkward instrument, which when played, sounds downright disgusting. Violists are the most insecure members of the string section. Nothing can be done about this. Violists don't like to be made fun of and therefore find ways of making people feel sorry for them. They wear shabby clothes so that they'll look as if they had been dragged under a train. It works quite well.
People who play the cello are simply not good looking. They have generally chosen their instrument because, while in use, the cello hides 80% of its player's considerable bulk. Most cellists are in analysis which won't end until they can play a scale in tune or, in other words, never. Cellists wear sensible shoes and always bring their own lunch.
Double bass players are almost completely harmless. Most have worked their way up through the ranks of a large moving company and are happy to have secured a job in a symphony orchestra anywhere. The fact that it takes at least ten basses to make an audible sound tends to make the simple-minded folks disappear into their woodwork, but why do they drive such small cars?
Harpists are gorgeous. And they always know it. They often look good into their late eighties. Although rare as hen's teeth, male harpists are equally beautiful. Harpists spend their time perfecting their eye-batting, little-lost-lamb look so they can snare unsuspecting wind players into carrying their heavy gilded furniture around. Debussy was right -- harpists spend half their life tuning and the other half playing out of tune.
Pianists in the symphony orchestra work the least and complain the most. They have unusually large egos and, because they can only play seated, also have the biggest butts. Whenever they make mistakes, which is more often than not, their excuse is that they have never played on that particular piano before. Oh, the poor darlings.
The Brass
Trumpets players are the scum of the earth. I'll admit, though, they do look good when they're all cleaned up. They'll promise you the world, but they lie like a cheap rug. Sure, they can play soft and pretty during rehearsal, but watch out come concert time! They're worse than lawyers, feeding off the poor, defenseless, weaker members of the orchestra and loving every minute of it. Perhaps the conductor could intercede? I don't think so.
Trombone players are generally the nicest brass players. However, they do tend to drink quite heavily and perhaps don't shine the brightest headlights on the highway, but they won't hurt you and are the folks to call with all your pharmaceutical questions. They don't count well, but stay pretty much out of the way anyway. Probably because they know just how stupid they look when they play. It's a little-known fact that trombone players are unusually good bowlers. This is true.
The French horn. I only have two words of advice: stay away. Horn players are piranhas. They'll steal your wallet, lunch, boyfriend, or wife or all the above given the chance or no chance at all. They have nothing to live for and aren't afraid of ruining their life. The pressure is high for them. If they miss a note, they get fired. If they hit a note, they rub your nose in it and it doesn't smell so sweet.
The kind-hearted folks who play the tuba are good-looking and smart. They'll give you the shirt off their back. The tuba is one of the most interesting to take in the bath with you. It's a crying shame that there's only one per orchestra. Would that it could be different.
And finally – The Percussion.
These standoffish fools who get paid perfectly good money for blowing whistles and hitting things, don't deserve the considerable space they are allotted on the stage. Aside from the strange coincidence that all percussionists hail from the Deep South, another little known, but rather revealing fact, is that there are no written percussion parts in the standard orchestral repertory. Percussion players do have music stands and they do use them -- to look at girlie magazines. Percussionists play whatever and whenever they damn well feel like it, and it's always too loud! The ones with a spark of decency and intelligence play timpani, or kettle drums.
Most percussionists are deaf, but those who play kettle drums pretend to tune their instruments for the sake of the ignorant and easily duped conductor.
The guy with the short nose who plays the cymbals is no Einstein, but he's also one of the best guys to room with on tour. Cymbal players don't practice -- I guess they figure it's bad enough to have to listen to those things at the concert. Percussionists pretend to have lots of kids whose toys can be seen quite often shaken, dropped, or manhandled to great effect. Whole percussion sections can be seen every now and then on various forms of public transportation, where they practice getting up and down as a group. This represents the only significant challenge to a percussionist.
And that just about does it. I trust that this little tour has enlightened you just a little bit as to the mysterious inner world of the symphony orchestra. This world, one which is marked by the terrible strain of simple day-to-day survival, is indeed not an easy one. Perhaps now you will be a bit more understanding of the difficulties which face a modern-day concert artist. And so the next time you find yourself at the symphony, take a moment to look deeply into the faces of the performers on the stage and imagine how much more difficult their lives are than yours. This is truly what's on their minds . . . if anything.
Tony Appel's Guide to the Orchestra
The members of the orchestra are divided into four sections. These are woodwinds, the strings, the brass, and the percussion. There's also someone standing in front of all these folks playing no instrument at all. This would be the conductor. It is generally required that the conductor is required to make musical decisions and to hold all of the instruments together in a cohesive interpretation of any given work. Not so. Rather, the conductor is necessary because the four groups would rather eat Velveeta than have anything to do with someone from another section. And, as we all know, musicians are quite serious about their food.
Why all the animosity? Before I begin my explanation, let me set the record straight in plain English about some of the characteristics that typify the four groups.
The woodwind players have IQs in the low- to mid- genius range. Nerds with coke-bottle glasses and big egos, blowers tend to be extremely quiet, cowering behind bizarre-looking contraptions -- their instruments -- so nobody will notice them. It is often difficult to discern whether a wind player is male or female.
String players are neurotic prima donnas who won't even shake your hand for fear of permanent injury. A string player will never look you directly in the eye and they don't bathe carefully . . . or often.
Brass players are loud-mouthed drunkards who bully everyone with the possible and occasional exception of a stray percussionist. They like to slick their hair back. Nobody knows why.
Percussionists are insensitive oafs who constantly make tasteless jokes at the expense of the strings and woodwinds. They look very good in concert attire but have the worst table manners of all the musicians. They are always male, or close enough. Now, is it any wonder orchestra members have little to do with anyone outside of their own section? For the answer to this and other pertinent questions we will need to examine the individual instrument and the respective -- if not respected -- players of each section.
The woodwinds.
Oboe players are seriously nuts. They usually develop brain tumors from the extreme pressure built up over years of playing this rather silly instrument. Oboists suffer from a serious Santa Claus complex, spending all their waking hours carving little wooden toys for imaginary children, although they will tell you they are putting the finishing touches on the world's greatest reed. Oboists can't drive and always wear clothes one size too small. They all wear berets and have special eating requirements which are endlessly annoying and which are intended to make them seem somewhat special. English horn players are losers and always dress better than oboists. They cry at the drop of a beret.
Bassoon players are downright sinister. They are your worst enemy, but they come on so sweet that it is hard to catch them at their game. Here's an instrument that's better seen that heard. Bassoon players like to give the impression that theirs is a very difficult instrument to play, but the truth is that the bassoon only plays one or two notes per piece and is therefore only heard for a minute in any given evening. However, in order to keep their jobs -- their only real concern -- they act up a storm doing their very best to look busy.
It takes more brawn, and slightly less brain, to play contrabassoon. They are available in pawn shops in large numbers -- the instruments as well as the players -- and they play the same three or four numbers as the tuba, although not quite as loud or beautiful.
Okay, now we come to the flute. Oversexed and undernourished is the ticket here. The flute player has no easier time of getting along with the rest of the orchestra than anyone else, but that won't stop them from sleeping with everyone. Man and woman alike, makes no difference. The bass flute is not even worth mentioning. Piccolos, on the other hand, belong mainly on the fifty yard line of a football field where the unfortunate audience can maintain a safe distance.
The clarinet is, without a doubt, the easiest of all orchestral instruments to play. Clarinets are cheap, and the reeds are literally a dime a dozen. Clarinetists have lots of time and money for the finest wines, oriental rugs, and exotic sports cars. They mostly have no education, interest, or talent in music, but fortunately for them they don't do much. Clarinets come in various sizes and keys -- nobody knows why. Don't ask a clarinetist for a loan, as they are stingy and mean. Some of the more talented clarinetists can learn to play the saxophone. Big deal.
Let's continue with the real truth about . . .
The Strings
We begin with the string family's smallest member: the violin. The violin is a high-pitched, high-tension instrument. It's not an easy instrument to play. Lots of hard music is written for this instrument. Important things for a violinist to keep in mind are: Number one -- the door to your studio should be left slightly open so everyone can hear your brilliant practice sessions. Number two: you should make disparaging remarks about the other violinists whenever possible, which is most of the time. And number three: you should tell everyone how terribly valuable your instrument is until they drool.
The viola is a large and awkward instrument, which when played, sounds downright disgusting. Violists are the most insecure members of the string section. Nothing can be done about this. Violists don't like to be made fun of and therefore find ways of making people feel sorry for them. They wear shabby clothes so that they'll look as if they had been dragged under a train. It works quite well.
People who play the cello are simply not good looking. They have generally chosen their instrument because, while in use, the cello hides 80% of its player's considerable bulk. Most cellists are in analysis which won't end until they can play a scale in tune or, in other words, never. Cellists wear sensible shoes and always bring their own lunch.
Double bass players are almost completely harmless. Most have worked their way up through the ranks of a large moving company and are happy to have secured a job in a symphony orchestra anywhere. The fact that it takes at least ten basses to make an audible sound tends to make the simple-minded folks disappear into their woodwork, but why do they drive such small cars?
Harpists are gorgeous. And they always know it. They often look good into their late eighties. Although rare as hen's teeth, male harpists are equally beautiful. Harpists spend their time perfecting their eye-batting, little-lost-lamb look so they can snare unsuspecting wind players into carrying their heavy gilded furniture around. Debussy was right -- harpists spend half their life tuning and the other half playing out of tune.
Pianists in the symphony orchestra work the least and complain the most. They have unusually large egos and, because they can only play seated, also have the biggest butts. Whenever they make mistakes, which is more often than not, their excuse is that they have never played on that particular piano before. Oh, the poor darlings.
The Brass
Trumpets players are the scum of the earth. I'll admit, though, they do look good when they're all cleaned up. They'll promise you the world, but they lie like a cheap rug. Sure, they can play soft and pretty during rehearsal, but watch out come concert time! They're worse than lawyers, feeding off the poor, defenseless, weaker members of the orchestra and loving every minute of it. Perhaps the conductor could intercede? I don't think so.
Trombone players are generally the nicest brass players. However, they do tend to drink quite heavily and perhaps don't shine the brightest headlights on the highway, but they won't hurt you and are the folks to call with all your pharmaceutical questions. They don't count well, but stay pretty much out of the way anyway. Probably because they know just how stupid they look when they play. It's a little-known fact that trombone players are unusually good bowlers. This is true.
The French horn. I only have two words of advice: stay away. Horn players are piranhas. They'll steal your wallet, lunch, boyfriend, or wife or all the above given the chance or no chance at all. They have nothing to live for and aren't afraid of ruining their life. The pressure is high for them. If they miss a note, they get fired. If they hit a note, they rub your nose in it and it doesn't smell so sweet.
The kind-hearted folks who play the tuba are good-looking and smart. They'll give you the shirt off their back. The tuba is one of the most interesting to take in the bath with you. It's a crying shame that there's only one per orchestra. Would that it could be different.
And finally – The Percussion.
These standoffish fools who get paid perfectly good money for blowing whistles and hitting things, don't deserve the considerable space they are allotted on the stage. Aside from the strange coincidence that all percussionists hail from the Deep South, another little known, but rather revealing fact, is that there are no written percussion parts in the standard orchestral repertory. Percussion players do have music stands and they do use them -- to look at girlie magazines. Percussionists play whatever and whenever they damn well feel like it, and it's always too loud! The ones with a spark of decency and intelligence play timpani, or kettle drums.
Most percussionists are deaf, but those who play kettle drums pretend to tune their instruments for the sake of the ignorant and easily duped conductor.
The guy with the short nose who plays the cymbals is no Einstein, but he's also one of the best guys to room with on tour. Cymbal players don't practice -- I guess they figure it's bad enough to have to listen to those things at the concert. Percussionists pretend to have lots of kids whose toys can be seen quite often shaken, dropped, or manhandled to great effect. Whole percussion sections can be seen every now and then on various forms of public transportation, where they practice getting up and down as a group. This represents the only significant challenge to a percussionist.
And that just about does it. I trust that this little tour has enlightened you just a little bit as to the mysterious inner world of the symphony orchestra. This world, one which is marked by the terrible strain of simple day-to-day survival, is indeed not an easy one. Perhaps now you will be a bit more understanding of the difficulties which face a modern-day concert artist. And so the next time you find yourself at the symphony, take a moment to look deeply into the faces of the performers on the stage and imagine how much more difficult their lives are than yours. This is truly what's on their minds . . . if anything.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Monday, February 06, 2006
Red Bud flower Ikebana
My mother picked some red bud flowers that grow on the way to school and made a beautifyl ikebana flower arrangement with them.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Bee on Jasmine
Since the jasmine is currently flowering, and the bees love it, I have many great opportunities to photograph them with the amazing digital camera.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Swiss chard
Strangely enough, mommy doesn't seem to like it enough to harvest it on a regular basis.
Broccoli in full bloom
Every couple of days I harvest a palm-sized side shoot;some are visible here.
Tomato from the garden
There is a visible glare due to the fact that the light was fading fast and it was twilight by now in the garden.
Jasmine
There are about six jasmine plants that grow near a neighbor's fence, and they cascade over into our side of the fence. They have begun to bloom, though not a sprofusely as they will in summer.
Me, Yosef
My mother took this photo after I had spent half an hour teaching her how to use the digital camera, and she tried out the sepia setting.
Garden update
I want to say that previously all the garden photographs uploaded were from my dad's cellphone. But recently he was given a Nikon digital camera, which is extremely useful as it has a lot of 'gadgets' that facilitate the taking of photographs. From here-on-in , all the garden photographs are from this camera except where noted.
It has been a very mild winter, and even Gabriel, who cuts the grass, says that in all his time in Houston, he has never seen anything like this and that it won't be cold (with freezing temperatures and sudden frosts) anymore. Well, that's stretching it, but that is the idea. Therefore, my broccoli constantly produces cute little side sprouts and is quite enjoying itself in the first true spring that I have ever seen in Houston. (By that I mean several semi-cool days a week, with the rest just typical Houston weather, i.e variable.) Because there were no cold snaps that killed my hibiscus theis year, unlike last year, it is forming buds, adorable ones, too. The stocks (a type of flower) are just beginning to bloom, revealin that their color is yellow. The oregano is profuse, and I'm about to give my mother the go-ahead to use it freely. The dark, chocolate-colored pepper is blooming once more and I anticipate more peppers, from it. I have another young pepper seedling, called the Hybrid Banana Pepper Whopper Improved, (bought at an outrageous price of something like $3.50 for 25 seeds, when I was desperate for a productive pepper last year), and it has produced its first bud. Recently, I pruned back my scented geranium back really hard, and took six seedlings, which thank G-d have taken root, all of them. The Grapefruit mint is producing leaves in great quantities, and the other mints also look great, even the one I took a bit of from the herb part of the Rose Garden. The lavender seedling, the only remaining on after the ravages of several unknown felines, now has 7 leaves! I'm so happy about that, and every so often I rub one of the tiny leaves and smell it, and the scent is divine. After I harvested the ripe tomatoes, the others that had just formed and had stopped growing when the other ones had taken up the available nutrition, suddenlt began to grow, and I will blog a picture of them too. That's about it of the more important information.
It has been a very mild winter, and even Gabriel, who cuts the grass, says that in all his time in Houston, he has never seen anything like this and that it won't be cold (with freezing temperatures and sudden frosts) anymore. Well, that's stretching it, but that is the idea. Therefore, my broccoli constantly produces cute little side sprouts and is quite enjoying itself in the first true spring that I have ever seen in Houston. (By that I mean several semi-cool days a week, with the rest just typical Houston weather, i.e variable.) Because there were no cold snaps that killed my hibiscus theis year, unlike last year, it is forming buds, adorable ones, too. The stocks (a type of flower) are just beginning to bloom, revealin that their color is yellow. The oregano is profuse, and I'm about to give my mother the go-ahead to use it freely. The dark, chocolate-colored pepper is blooming once more and I anticipate more peppers, from it. I have another young pepper seedling, called the Hybrid Banana Pepper Whopper Improved, (bought at an outrageous price of something like $3.50 for 25 seeds, when I was desperate for a productive pepper last year), and it has produced its first bud. Recently, I pruned back my scented geranium back really hard, and took six seedlings, which thank G-d have taken root, all of them. The Grapefruit mint is producing leaves in great quantities, and the other mints also look great, even the one I took a bit of from the herb part of the Rose Garden. The lavender seedling, the only remaining on after the ravages of several unknown felines, now has 7 leaves! I'm so happy about that, and every so often I rub one of the tiny leaves and smell it, and the scent is divine. After I harvested the ripe tomatoes, the others that had just formed and had stopped growing when the other ones had taken up the available nutrition, suddenlt began to grow, and I will blog a picture of them too. That's about it of the more important information.
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