Archive for February, 2008

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Time Distortion Effect for Guests



n Rooms in house, n>>1

m Clocks, m > n



1) Set clock time for first clock

2) Place clock in room

3) Set clock time for next clock, and make it faster or slower by x minutes, x > 0

4) Repeat steps 2 & 3 until you run out of clocks

5) Invite guest to house

6) Bring them to rooms of choice

7) Observe effects on guests


By varying the variation in clock times, you can alter the effect on guests.

Step number 6 requires some explanation. If you just want to confuse guests, you can keep bringing them into rooms that are alternately faster and slower than the actual time. If you want them to leave early, bring them to the room that is an hour ahead of time (do it gradually; go into rooms that are just a few minutes ahead of the previous room). And if you want them to stay longer, just bring them into a room where the clock is stuck at the time they entered your house 🙂

Of course, the more rooms the better, and you’d probably want to give them a reason to leave their watches at the door (something like, “My dog loves to chew on watches” or “There’s this powerful anti-watch magnet that I’ve just installed and I’ve been wanting to try it out!” or simply just “Get that watch out of my sight!”)

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Found on the “rough” side of a sheet of rough paper (the other side had guitar chords for some chinese song):


Always the same, when on a fated night
At last the gathered snow lets down as white
As may be in dark woods, and with a song
It shall not make again all winter long
Of hissing on the yet uncovered ground,
I almost stumble looking up and round,
As one who overtaken by the end
Gives up his errand, and lets death descend
Upon him where he is, with nothing done
To evil, no important triumph won,
More than if life had never been begun.


Yet all the precedent is on my side:
I know that winter death has never tried
The earth but it has failed: the snow may heap
In long storms an undrifted four feet deep
As measured again maple, birch, and oak,
It cannot check the peeper’s silver croak;
And I shall see the snow all go down hill
In water of a slender April rill
That flashes tail through last year’s withered brake
And dead weeds, like a disappearing snake.
Nothing will be left white but here a birch,
And there a clump of houses with a church.

Robert Frost



in frost there is hope

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the Excavators

At first, it was just one

Sitting solitary in the shadow

Of abandoned buildings – old

Walls crayoned with algae,

The red and the green blending into a rusty brown –

Beholding the battalion of barren barracks

As a lone raptor contemplates the dying brachiosaur,



For brethren. There were four of them

By the end of the week.

Some yellow, some turquoise,

All single-armed, double-tracked,



Agents of entropy

Rearing their bucket heads,

Pecking, scratching, clawing at walls

That no longer walled anything,

That tore away, crushed brick by crushed brick,

To reveal a stuffy emptiness

Within wire ribs


Whose lungs released a final sigh,

A silent echo

Of the rush of boots,

The shouts of men,

The bugle call that sounds through the air

Of a different camp

To different ears now.


For a moment, the floors were ceilinged

By sky,

Before they, too, were bitten away,

Brown crumbs aggregating in a heap,

Pyramidal, like the sands

At the bottom of an hourglass,

Marking time

As dust returns to dust.


The machines were merciless, methodical,

Their engines humming amidst the thundering

Avalanches of rubble,

And when the walls

No longer cast their jagged shadows in the golden dusk,

They climbed atop the mounds

That once were buildings,

Their maker’s name emblazoned

Along the flat of their hydraulic biceps

In big, bold letters,


As if to declare to the surrounding absence,

“Kobelco conquers all.”


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