very fun quiz about C
This quiz is about quirks of the programming language C and intended for fun and educational purpose. The one or the other question is more
I got 29 out of 32, some of these are downright diabolical
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very fun quiz about C
This quiz is about quirks of the programming language C and intended for fun and educational purpose. The one or the other question is more
I got 29 out of 32, some of these are downright diabolical

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i only have three months left of my random bullshit i cannot lose the opportunity to learn about lasers
i had to put away the video games because i was getting too mad and i had the thought "mh maybe i could do some work for the thesis" like it's the relaxing alternative
while the thesis simulation was running i started the video game and i got frustrated immediately and turned to the last truly relaxing thing in my life: infrared image analysis
i still cannot believe that my friend's cousin who was supposed handle the medical sport certificates suddenly developed morals. when someone tells you "oh don't worry I've got a cousin" you don't expect the cousin to get uppity and refuse to do the moderately shady stuff
carlyle
Jonathan Roseâs book The Intellectual Life of the British Working Classes is fascinating, and I highly recommend it.  One of the main ideas that comes across in Roseâs book is that much of the British working class in the 19th century read a lot â and read a lot of difficult, deep stuff, and had highly specific taste.  One curious aspect of this working class taste is that they tended to prefer conservative authors, but not necessarily because they were themselves conservative.
Indeed, even leftist agitators among the working class often found inspiration in Edmund Burke and Thomas Carlyle, two of the authors most popular among the working class as a whole. Â Burke is famous as a godfather of modern conservatism; Carlyle is much less famous. Â It is possible that this is because he is just too reactionary for our modern democratic selves, but listen to Rose:
When the first large cohort of Labour MPs was elected in 1906, the Review of Reviews asked them to name the books and authors that had most deeply influenced them. [âĻ] Note that thirteen respondents mentioned Thomas Carlyle âĻ [4th most popular after John Ruskin (17 votes), Dickens (16), and the Bible (14)]
[Carlyle] had a huge following among autodidacts âĻ Carlyleâs ability to attract disciples from all points on the political spectrum, from Communists to Nazis, marks him as an author who might be turned to many purposesâĻ .
One could draw a pacifist lesson from his fable of the sixty French and English soldiers who massacred each other over a trivial territorial dispute. Â Carlyleâs hero-worship made him appear a proto-fascist in the eyes of many readers (including Joseph Goebbels) but it inspired [Keir] Hardie to embrace the role of Hero as Proletarian.
From Carlyle, as one agitator proclaimed, the working classes âlearnt to hate shams.â  He exposed the ideological facades of the class system, preached independence of mind, and offered a vision of economic justice.
[âĻ] some working-class women found a feminist in Carlyle.
And on and on the examples go, for nearly ten pages in this chapter alone (the entry for Carlyle in the index spans seven lines).
If Carlyleâs popularity is surprising on a political level, itâs much more surprising on a stylistic level. Â I suspect the reason Carlyle has fallen into semi-obscurity has less to do with his politics and more to do with the fact that he wrote in a style which is deeply alien to us.
This is not just because he is old. Â Many writers of the 19th and 18th centuries are still readable to us. Â Dickens (whose Tale of Two Cities was inspired by Carlyleâs French Revolution) still entertains millions. Â The Henry Fielding of 1749 sounds like the sort of wag you wouldnât be surprised to meet in a bar in 2015.
Carlyle is different.  He wrote in a floridly romantic, extremely opaque and long-winded style which (I have heard) was popular in his day and fell out of favor soon after.  I have read the first few chapters of two of his books â Sartor Resartus and The French Revolution.  The former is convoluted but still reads well, but the latter, which was vastly popular, is now practically unreadable.  The bookâs style is easier to display than to describe.  Here is how Carlyle expresses the thought we might now phrase as âkingship is a social constructâ:
Time was when men could (so to speak) of a given man, by nourishing and decorating him with fit appliances, to the due pitch, make themselves a King, almost as the Bees do; and what was still more to the purpose, loyally obey him when made. The man so nourished and decorated, thenceforth named royal, does verily bear rule; and is said, and even thought, to be, for example, âprosecuting conquests in Flanders,â when he lets himself like luggage be carried thither: and no light luggage; covering miles of road. For he has his unblushing Chateauroux, with her band-boxes and rouge-pots, at his side; so that, at every new station, a wooden gallery must be run up between their lodgings. He has not only his Maison-Bouche, and Valetaille without end, but his very Troop of Players, with their pasteboard coulisses, thunder-barrels, their kettles, fiddles, stage-wardrobes, portable larders (and chaffering and quarrelling enough); all mounted in wagons, tumbrils, second-hand chaises,âsufficient not to conquer Flanders, but the patience of the world. With such a flood of loud jingling appurtenances does he lumber along, prosecuting his conquests in Flanders; wonderful to behold. So nevertheless it was and had been: to some solitary thinker it might seem strange; but even to him inevitable, not unnatural.
For ours is a most fictile world; and man is the most fingent plastic of creatures. A world not fixable; not fathomable! An unfathomable Somewhat, which is Not we; which we can work with, and live amidst,âand model, miraculously in our miraculous Being, and name World.âBut if the very Rocks and Rivers (as Metaphysic teaches) are, in strict language, made by those outward Senses of ours, how much more, by the Inward Sense, are all Phenomena of the spiritual kind: Dignities, Authorities, Holies, Unholies! Which inward sense, moreover is not permanent like the outward ones, but forever growing and changing.
Well then! Â Believe it or not, this is one of Carlyleâs more lucid moments. Â More typical is the first sentence of the third chapter:
For the present, however, the grand question with the Governors of France is: Shall extreme unction, or other ghostly viaticum (to Louis, not to France), be administered?
Or this strange outburst from Chapter 1:
Yes, Maupeou, pucker those sinister brows of thine, and peer out on it with thy malign rat-eyes: it is a questionable case. Sure only that man is mortal; that with the life of one mortal snaps irrevocably the wonderfulest talisman, and all Dubarrydom rushes off, with tumult, into infinite Space; and ye, as subterranean Apparitions are wont, vanish utterly,âleaving only a smell of sulphur!
Imagine huge numbers of working-class autodidacts not only struggling to puzzle out this kind of stuff, but becoming eager fans of it.  This actually happened!  I have to wonder how to explain the gap between these people and us.  When we recoil from Carlyle, are we showing good sense, or have we lost something that these people possessed â or neither?  By 1958, a reviewer (Dwight McDonald) could write:
The long, patient uphill struggle of the last fifty years to bring the diction and rhythms of prose closer to those of the spoken language might never have existed so far as Cozzens is concerned. He doesnât even revert to the central tradition (Scott, Cooper, Bulwer-Lytton) but rather to the eccentric mode of the half-rebels against it (Carlyle, Meredith), who broke up the orderly platoons of gold-laced Latinisms into whimsically arranged squads, uniformed with equal artificiality but marching every which way as the authorâs wayward spirit moved them. Carlyle and Meredith are even less readable today than Scott and Cooper, whose prose at least inherited from the 18th century some structural backbone.
So something happened between 1906 (when Carlyle was popular among Labour MPs) and 1958. Â I wonder what it was. Â (The first sentence of the McDonald quote gives one possibility â a âlong, patient uphill struggleâ which, if it really happened, has now largely disappeared from memory.)
(Amusingly, Mencius Moldbug â another guy who never uses five words when five pages will suffice â loves Carlyle.  I wonder if heâs read Roseâs book?  He writes that âthe basic reason Carlyle is not in your high-school English reader, whereas [Walt] Whitman is, is that Carlyle was what, here at UR, we call a reactionary,â which seems unlikely given his popularity across the political spectrum.  It seems more likely that people used to find the Carlylean style inspirational, and now it verges on intolerable.)

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I would like to share the story of a very understandable but unfortunate mistake i made at work recently
So I'm weeding our ancient and terrible collection of children's books for the first time in possibly ever, and I'm making a decision about a book about migrant workers by Sandra Weiner, called Small Hands, Big Hands. And I'm not 100% sure and I go to just see if there's anything out there about this book's being notable in any way so I do an open web search for
"small hands big hands weiner"
And then I look at my results for a moment
and then at last I somberly add to the end of my search, "BOOK"
I have one like that:
In mathematics, you often consider the two-dimensional plane - you know, the idealised flat two-dimensional object that extends infinitely - which can be real or complex (doesn't matter what that means)
On this, you can perform a mathematical operation called a "blow-up" (resulting in a more complicated geometry)
I needed to look up a formula related to this, so I confidently typed into the search bar:
"Blow up real plane"
The results were not what I wanted and I am not sure if I'm on a terror watchlist now.
my quest to learn embedded c was sidetracked several hours by the introduction chapter that talked about vim. i now completed the whole neovim tutorial and i wasted three whole hours of learning c time
although if i have land an interview (đđĢ đđ) and they ask me to screen share i think that writing everything in vim would give me a certain je ne sais quoi
my quest to learn embedded c was sidetracked several hours by the introduction chapter that talked about vim. i now completed the whole neovim tutorial and i wasted three whole hours of learning c time
month starting on a monday we have no excuse guys lets get to work and lock the fuck in
yk its actually very chic and avant garde to start on tuesday the second
I UNDERSTOOD HOW TO SET UP THE CPP COMPILER IN NORMAL POWERSHELL đĨđĨđĨđĨđĨđĨđĨđĨ

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whenever I tell a story I feel like Uncle Colm from Derry Girls
"oh you say you know spanish, why can't you translate on the fly this warbling raggaeton rapper?" i doubt even his mother understands what the fuck he's talking about
i can't go to pride because there's my cousin's confirmation and i "need to be there". another crime of the catholic church against the lgbt community that will go unanswered
Although for this occasion I did get to inherit a 80s Moschino dress from the rich auntie so i guess I accept the apologies

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i can't go to pride because there's my cousin's confirmation and i "need to be there". another crime of the catholic church against the lgbt community that will go unanswered
It is funny how French is one of the most commonly spoken languages in the world yet both the French and Quebecois language wonks have the paranoia of speaking a dying regional dialect deep in the hinterlands.
I feel like France must be this way because their authorities instinctively understand that the French language was the metaphysical formula by which Louis XIV conjured France from the primordial chaos (confusingly also called "France"). They're worried that if they stop honouring the ancient pacts and just let people talk however, the whole thing will fall apart like Cinderella's chariot turning back into a pumpkin.
I'm fairly sympathetic to this in the context of Quebec, though, even though their laws often go overboard and it ceases to be cool when they cause trouble for their own local minoritites. They're not really worried about French abstractly but its use in Canada, and there mainly as a proxy for a historically-embattled regional culture. And actually, since languages are the geographic boundaries of Internet-oriented mass culture, that part of the country is the main bulwark against Americanization, so I think it's even useful to the rest of us to have it there.
The problem with all this is just that languages belong to the young, and the young are traditionally not fans of language authorities piloted by a mix of career politicians and 65-year-old prestige authors. At this point new restrictions just feel like political pandering with a light dose of protectionism for local companies, and if they actually hope to arrest the decline of French rather than just use it as a vehicle for stunts, they will need to get a bit cleverer about it.