Tatters and bits of a (once smooth) day.


Starting in the morning, Mrs Dash left the payment book so I might get to the motor-vehicles and register the car. Not quite the last minute, we had six days left.

On the way back, stopped by the computer store and picked up a USB cable and memory steick.  Princess #1’s computer is acting flakey and with some diagnostics- I initially thought the motherboard was doing the death dance, I figured out it was the hard drive.

Cool!  Even easier to change.

So, lessee… Windows 7 to back up and find the ISO image.  No problem. I got this.

I got what?

No image in the computer.  Drive dies …and dies… and dies.  I have tried to back it up multiple times, even used backtrack Linux, Ubutnu Linux live to avoid the drive, but wooo….

After an all out software thumping with various systems I have hidden in various cubby-holes. (And alas, had to update nearly ALL of them. Except for Ubuntu, I use that most often, so it was easy to have an updated life disk and usb stick. It was at hand. :D)

So I got about 2 hours out of the drive before it failed again. “BSOD” “No drive found”

In the process of trying to make an image to burn to a DVD or a USB. (I’m going for one of each, just in case) The program for making an ISO to burn to the DVD asks for the COA key sticker attached to the underside of the computer.

The lettering is obliterated after countless hours on legs.

I have looked, squinted, microscoped in on it. (Took my glasses off, I am so nearsighted, I can get very close) It is pretty gone.

A bright idea!  I angled it to a light source, PRincess #1 read off what she could see- Wrong…  I read it off… Wrong.

So now, another epiphany!

I took it outside as the sun set, angled it to the sun where the lettering is slightly embossed and used the HD camera from the house.

I have GIMP (thanks GIMP!) open and I am now enhancing the view with contrasts, different colors, mapping, etc etc.. Looking for those letters .  I need 25!  I think I have 22 solid numbers.  but one.. Not so sure. Could be an H. But there is a bit of damage there, like a fingernail scraped on it.  Not sure what else it might be. Maybe a Y or a V But the angles are wrong. Then there is an O or Q ..Sigh…

I”m off to try it again.

Oh, and the deadline? 5 days.

So much for an “Easy replacement and restore”.

Updates later.


What the heck?


I look in on my quiet morning to do catch up on what has been written, shared, created.  And I find- the reshare, repost, “press this” buttons are all missing… Everyone’s.

I have not changed any settings.  Does everyone now have this deleted or missing?

If so? Why?

A bug in the system?

Has WP been hacked?

I wanted to start sharing some good postings (I don’t share everyone’s.  Only one gets shared regularly, as it is important to the storyline, sorry folks.) I go through what is awesome, what is great, what is not the normal great postings. (We can’t hit it all 100% of the time. Even Steinbeck had some that went in the trash. (3,000 words a day without a computer and word processor, there was a lot he threw out.)

But what the heck? No sharing? Ugh!

If this is widespread and everyone, stop messing with the $(*%#@! Code!

If it is just me?  Can someone clue me in on the setting I need to mess with?


Folks you are awesome, keep up the good work and I’ll do the easy repost.  In the meantime, I will do it the more difficult way.

But I will get it done.


The Tuesday Code Chapter 1. Tuesday Code.


Chapter 1. The Tuesday Code

Doctor Abhubu drank the coffee from his cup, a concession to the western style, he necessarily brewed it with a paper filter with a splash of almond-milk.

The screen that illuminated his features, boron nanotube, capable of using photon packets instead of electrons for operations. The new circuitry would build a new system orders of magnitude more powerful than the current supercomputers in the world — and it would fit inside a desk, much like the one he was sitting at.

Beowulf Operational Berth, lovingly called ‟Bob” by Yng Gibson Pak, the engineer and designer of the system. Running Linux-based system on laptops computers stripped of their power using and heat-producing screens, the system scaled its power consumption as the need arose.

Only one laptop needed? The operating system allowed for that and shut the other sections down, using only a few dozen watts of power.

Alternately, a required increase in power would also increase the energy consumption. Bob could consume hundreds of kilowatts. Doctor Abhubu used his own scant funds in his effort, but proud that Gibson was able to construct this computer system for less money than it cost for a large laptop.

Out of scraps, Gibson had built a teraflop system that fit comfortably in the budget that the Doctor had set. With the added advantage and control, the power could be dialed back and the system could, in fact of use, be all but shut down, saving power, only using one node of the cluster for operations.

Late into the afternoon, the head of the robotics company with his employee and friend as the total of his staff.

As a result, they wore many hats, including janitorial service, food preparation and cleanup and coffee supplies.

Especially coffee! The biggest crime in the company was Ahmad not having a cup of coffee in his hand.

This entertained Gibson a great deal, who’s favorite drink was a green tea.

Among the different chores, Gibson got a note from the Doctor to program an algorithm for a learning, writing in a line of code that altered the fuzzy-logic program that Ahmad used while he programmed a personal electronic butler— which Ahmad called ‟Pebbles”.

The designs went hand in hand, they designed boron nanotubes in place of carbon nanotube technology with the projected superconducting material at room temperature.

Weeks dragged into months, living on Chinese noodles and expired foods from a store that sold such items after their “Sell by” date at a steep discount.

The Doctor felt the weight of abject failure, he had mortgaged his house, along with the money that Gibson had brought in with selling his own car and living in the flat behind the office.

The office, a joke that made Ahmad laugh darkly to himself as he looked around. It was a hole in the wall that was once a sandwich store that failed.

Late Tuesday afternoon had come up on them like a tsunami, unstoppable and unwanted.

‟Gibs, input my design code for the hardware and use the last iteration of software into the compiler with a ten-thousand random code modification and testing? I need to go and call my wife to tell her we will come home early tonight.” Ahmad took a deep breath. He was gambling on a software program to help. The random generator produced unworkable code ninety-percent of the time.

But that last ten-percent?

They had moved robotic programming ahead by ten-fold.

The same designs had exceeded Moore’s Law in hardware. The software designed by the supercomputer was designing hardware that would accelerate again the designs.

This! This is what the company the good Doctor wanted. But no one believed him when he tried to bring forth the contracts.

He was nearly ready to give up, the year before the company’s income, the total that Cheerio Robotics, Inc brought in was not quite half of what they needed to break even.

They would have to close doors in three more months if they did not get a contract to license or sell robot control systems, his wife informed him.

And if they did close, they had no recourse, no reserve, nothing left and would lose the house and declare bankruptcy.

Gibson walked out of the computer room after a few minutes. The Doctor had been lost in thought, staring at the setting sun of the early autumn, daylight standard time had passed a week before, the walk home would be in the dark, alone with his thoughts, again.

He no longer drove his ten-year-old Toyota, its cost was too high.

‟Good night, Gibs. I have a few things to think about.”

‟Ahmad, please, can I give you a ride home?”

‟No, thank you. I need to think. We have a winning design, but no one wants it. Unless it can walk up and down stairs, or serve a drink at a snail’s pace, no one wants to talk.”

‟Good night worry-wart, see you in the morning.”

The Doctor nodded and walked out.

‟Don’t forget to lock up the store.”

‟No worries. It’s my home and all.” Gibs winked. ‟The computer will be done in an hour or so, then shut down.”

‟Good. Can you estimate the power used for tonight?” Ahmad asked. 

‟Well, for an hour, I don’t see that being much over fifty-dollars at the worst. We won’t be taxing the system very much.”

Gibson was wrong to the extreme.

In the computer room, where Gibs had sat, one node, then three, then nine of the super-cluster’s nodes woke up and booted into full power mode.

Yng Gibson Pak’s design, never fully tested due to budget restraints, worked perfectly.

In the moments while Gibs locked doors, he never looked again at the read out, he turned power off from the screen to save money, not knowing that the petaflop-capable machine had exceeded the rated speed easily.

Gib’s errored in seeking a random change in code and testing for operation. Not ten-thousand compile and testing cycles, a minor typo and the instruction code called for Ten-BILLION cycles.

Ninety-eight percent of the codes processed with changes by the random generator, failed during processing to a workable code— failing the compile process.

This left two-hundred million cycles of a workable program that ran from start to finish.

One in one-hundred thousand of the remaining code returned with an alert flag for the Doctor to check.

All through the night, Bob the Beowulf worked at peak capacity, developing and refining through the test phase, code that the human requested by accident.

Finding one series of commands, now called ‟Recommended Code Review” and saved for review by the humans.

When morning came, the humans would be shocked how warm it was in the office.

Every one of B.O.B.’s nodes worked at full power, all night, and produced a code and hardware combination that would change the world.

What the two businessmen would call the “Tuesday Code” became legend.