http://search.deviantart.com/?q=by:hif&section=today deviantART RSS for by:hif en-us Copyright 2009, deviantART.com Mon, 30 Nov 2009 07:42:33 PST deviantART.com http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss http://s.deviantart.com/minish/widgets/apple-touch-icon-precomposed.png http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/5573864/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/5573864/ Mon, 06 Jun 2005 19:51:03 PDT explode
only leaving behind me
fresh new fields of dan-de-lions

--
Buy a hiffyprint ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/5405093/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/5405093/ Thu, 19 May 2005 17:54:12 PDT
two scoops of raisins
fuck you Ralph Benmergui
don't get myself killed
coffee
but i don't wanna do any work
mang, we've skipped [insert class here] all week tho
last period calculus?
i love these laaaazy [insert day of the week here]
coffee
but i don't wanna do [insert assignment, essay or deep inner desire here]
ooh, pretty lights on the telly/screen

sleep

--
Buy a hiffyprint ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/4550551/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/4550551/ Thu, 10 Feb 2005 22:26:34 PST so, where are you?

Me? I'm at a broken down landromat somewhere along St. Clair West.

uh... why?

because I got cold. see, in my neighbourhood there was a blackout. I, naturally, left my house thirsting for adventure. I wanted to see the stars and idle major intersections and, above all, embark on the quiet and anxious comradship that only glitches in urban electrical grids seem able to yield.
of course, the blackout turned out to be literally only within a 2 block radius of my house. faced with either going back home, sitting in the dark, facing a wall and quietly waiting until I passed out due to boredom OR heroicly braving the well lit but somewhat icy sidewalks in my pursuit of a non-starbucks coffehouse, I picked the obvious choice.

that's why I have spent the past 15 minutes contemplating in a most bovine fashion the manner in which a light blue eiderdown is capable of revolving in a red, vandalised industrial strength drying machine, but not before I had performed several acts of poetry using only the words from a yellowed piece of paper on the wall opposite to the machines that informed anyone interested that We have increased the drier times by 8 minutes for an extra .25 We listen to your complaints The Management

you gave up on searching for a non-starbucks coffee place?

oh, nah. I'm sure they are out there.
I just haven't found one yet. ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/3505614/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/3505614/ Sun, 03 Oct 2004 18:43:38 PDT
It's rather simple, actually.
First, think of the horribly illegal thing you want to do. Usually, this *has* to involve blowing something big up or killing someone important (we're trying to build a conspiracy here, not something original or anything).

Find blueprints (and circle infrastructures, exit routes and structural weaknesses), take dozens of photos (preferably on black and white 8x10s), make elaborate plans labeled A through D (all indepent of each other, each containing a copy of said blueprints plus maps and mission statements, preferably taking different routes).

Type up different stories on why said deed must be commited.
Add a list of plausible situations you might find before the deed is committed and ways of getting out of it.

Make a list of music to listen while committing certain deed (and make sure you include full albums, song lengths and total time of the playlist must an exact number).

Make a list of codenames.




Then put all of the above in one of those long brown envelopes and leave it in the subway or in a bus. ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/3356432/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/3356432/ Mon, 13 Sep 2004 16:58:41 PDT Das school is das boring.

Das hiffy has got roughly 130 ish phoyos he's waaay too lazy to develop.
Das development is boring. And cancernogenic.

*moglenstar is the shit.

Buy hiffyPrints.
Support starving (or in-need-of-pocket-money) artists! ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/3199458/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/3199458/ Tue, 24 Aug 2004 10:13:07 PDT
--
+kronix is the man.
*moglenstar however is also a very MANly MAN (*points to new avatar) ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/3184196/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/3184196/ Mon, 23 Aug 2004 22:50:17 PDT Would you be willing to pay cold hard cash for any of my photos?

If so, you just might be in luck.


The Deal
I'm willing to make prints of any given photo within my "portfolio" and mail them to you for the low, low cost of $10 CDN plus shipping and handling.


The Photos
Most of my photos are taken in black and white 35 mm 400 ISO film.
This means that, if I have access to an enlarger, I can easily make prints up to 8x10 inches (approximately 20x25 cms) in the very same kind of photographic paper I use for my own personal use (currently Agfa 'premium' semi-matte).


My, that seems pretty cheap... What is the catch?
Essentially, you'd have to take my word on the final quality of each photo as enlargining photos is still a pretty integral piece of the art involved in photography.
The price is so low because. based on current supply and demand and a relative inexperience with selling art, I simply think it's an entertaining deal for anyone looking for some neat photos.


Methods of Payment
Take the equivalent of $10 CDN (Canadian dollar) at whatever the day's rate your currency rates and mail it to me once I have mailed the photo to you.

However, my bank charges a hefty sum for exchanging currencies other than the American dollar (USD) - so, if you would like to pay in, for instance, GBP (British pound) or Euro, you'll see a one time 5 dollar increase in the total price of your order.


To order, simply email me at hiffyness at gmail.com so we can talk. ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/3120532/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/3120532/ Fri, 13 Aug 2004 23:19:19 PDT
It was something around the lines of my AlGeo class (some grade 12 math class) was being taught by a blue robot who called himself Mr. Squiggles.
He was of a medium built, blue from head to toe with some red highlites.
He walked around in a hurried fashion and wrote on the board 'Math is the universal force in the universe (as it disproves facts)'; after that he declared everyone needed their happy place and bent over and shoved his head firmly up his rear end.
He then declared 'ah, the uniformity' and 'hello, New York'.

--
+kronix is the man.
*moglenstar however is also a very MANly MAN (*points to new avatar) ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/2775203/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/2775203/ Wed, 30 Jun 2004 21:01:00 PDT Going to the good ol' homeland [Portugal] in a bout oh lets say 3 days and am thinking about the unthinkable: spending the whole month I'll be there (bored, no doubt due to lack of people my age and or computers) without compulsively checking my email and devart messages.

So if you want to reach me, besides the ol' email you can try (416) 868-0872, (96) 223-4087 or at (315) 826-7726.

Chances are you won't find me, mainly because one is the phone number of Henry's Photography store, the other is only useful if you need to find what time a plane arrives at the aeroport of Maçapá in Brazil or, finally, if you are acquainted with Althea Glenister in New York - however I'm pretty sure they'd all be very interested in hearing about me.


If you want to get a postcard from me, or just something random with some stamps collected on it, gimme your address (or email it if you feel uncomfortable with posting it here). If I deem you worthy of the money spent in international mail, you might get lucky.

And now? Now we make music, tea and sleep.

--
+kronix is the man.
*moglenstar however is also a very MANly MAN (*points to new avatar) ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/2722787/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/2722787/ Tue, 22 Jun 2004 21:19:01 PDT
So, I'm strolling along Eglinton and Yonge with my cousin and his girlfriend. Comes up that Jess and I could use a coffee so I partake in the glory of coffee shops - and chances are that their fave place is Starbucks, which is all over the goddamn place it seems and directly in front of us.

Just a few seconds before closing time. The woman (tho I think they have names for'em) behind the counter was lookin' annoyed - it was closing time and all she needs is a few more people to make her day last longer than it should.

Mind you, I go to Timothy's and Second Cup all the time. I know their inner workings, how they blend their coffees and how they account for products sold (by # of cups). I like to have my sugar surrounded by just a bit of Irish Cream with copious amounts of milk - or as someone's put it, I rape the coffee.
I'm no stranger to coffee places.

I walk up to the counter and spiel out, "A regular Irish Cream if you please".
She looks at me.
"A what?"
"You know, a regular. A medium."
"Sorry sir, but we don't use those terms."
I look perplexed and babble an "Excuse me?" as she points to a small model demonstrating their variety of sizes.

Now, this is a work of modern capitalist yuppy-driven art. I have to give it to them, it makes you feel like you are in a coffee special haven where they just barely picked off the beans from the plans and are dying to squeeze it through water so they can ecstaticly quench your need for overpriced caffeeine.
A small has now been metamorphesed into a Tall.
A medium (or as Timothy's has it, a regular) is now a Grande.
A large is now a, I kid you not, a Venti .

Tall, if I remember correctly, means weak coffee. Or in other words, it's goddamn tall. Diluted. A lot of water. Big.
Grande, in portuguese at least, means Big. Pequeno, normal, grande. That's how it goes.
Venti means twenty. That's right, twenty. Or, "Pansy Italian word for a lot", depends on how you see it", since all Italians are pretty boys.

So somehow I have to pick between 3 big coffees. I grunt, point at the Grande and utter "Grande Irish Cream then".

She pauses and asks me if I want it mild, smooth or bold.
I stare at her, confusion and amazement furiously displayed across my face.
"It's a bloody Irish Cream."
"I know sir, but we don't flavour our beans, we add shots to them".

I stare at her.

"Just give me the strongest."

Two dollars and twenty-five cents later I'm holding a Grande cup of mildly warm last-minute brew of what I'm told was Irish Cream but fuck as hell didn't taste like it. And I've had plenty of last minute brews; instant coffee seemed like a better alternative in all it's glimmering reassurance. At least you KNOW instant coffee is gonna taste bad.

Whats the moral of the story?
Somehow I got suckered into choosing between 3 variants of the same word/cup, 2 synonyms and an understatement that revelead itself as a bad coffee for more money than a large (as in biggest) usually runs at my local place.

That and I read into things with a Marxist mindset a hell more thant I ought to - so this whole yuppy-go-lucky newfound glory actually disturbs me.

Boycott Starbcuks.

--
+kronix is the man.
*moglenstar however is also a very MANly MAN (*points to new avatar) ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/2674104/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/2674104/ Wed, 16 Jun 2004 11:36:34 PDT War was beginning.
Hiffy: What happen ?
Mechanic: Somebody set up us the website.
Operator: We get signal.
Hiffy: What !
Operator: Main screen turn on.
Hiffy: It's You !!
Moglen: How are you gentlemen !!
Moglen: All your [div] are belong to moglenstar.
Moglen: You are on the way to destruction.
Hiffy: What you say !!
Moglen: You have no chance to design make your site.
Moglen: HA HA HA HA ....
Hiffy: Take off every [br] !!
Hiffy: You know what you doing.
Hiffy: Move [br].
Hiffy: For great validation.

Max is weird sometimes.
And we have some fun.
And I might be developing some photos tonight.
And stuff, stuff is good.

--
+kronix is the man.
*moglenstar however is also a very MANly MAN (*points to new avatar) ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/2571895/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/2571895/ Thu, 03 Jun 2004 04:55:22 PDT Chris: da?
Phill: are you running for student council or something?
Chris: thats chris mb
Phill: gotcha.
Phill: lol
Phill: all i saw was vote CHRIS
Chris: i was confused for a bit too
Phill: so heh
Chris: you can still vote for me if you'd like
Phill: lol
Phill: i do say we do give it a shot
Phill: with my looks and your brains
Phill: we could get you in no time
Phill: hmm
Phill: wait
Chris: lol
Chris: no!
Phill: with alexis' looks and your brains
Phill: we could get you in in no time
Phill: i can see the posters now
Chris: what "vote for him and she'll unbutton a button"?
Phill: "VOTE NEUFELD, cause you just know he's better than you"
Phill: lol
Phill: that could work too
Chris: i dont think i want it to work
Chris: and i dont think alexis would agree to it at any rate
Phill: nope
Phill: neither do i
Phill: hence the first plan goes
Phill: the snobby way
Chris: but i dont wanna be elected at all
Phill: pish posh you'll change your mind oncve you get elected
Chris: but its work
Chris: i dont like work
Phill: well
Phill: all we need is a poster
Phill: which we can do in no time flat
Chris: no, once we're elected
Phill: and a speech at the assembly before the end of the year
Chris: we need to wdso work
Phill: well
Phill: think more about the prestige
Phill: of it
Phill: Chris: Chairman of the student council
Chris: name the current chairperson
Phill: hm
Phill: wait
Phill: give me a sec
Chris: lol
Phill: ... damnit
Phill: you got me there
Chris: dont look at it on vufa neither
Phill: i know last years
Phill: wasnt it adam real long german sounding name
Phill: and the year before
Phill: zinzi da silva?
Chris: you tell me
Phill: lol
Chris: see
Chris: there's nothing good about being on the student council
Phill: there are plenty of good things about it
Chris: ok phill
Chris: you can run for student coucil
Phill: but I dont want to, your the one for the spot
Phill: i mean
Phill: your the MAN
Chris: regardless of my MAN status
Chris: i will not be lackey to an unkempt rabble of teenagers who cant tell their faces from pockmarked asteroids in the void
Phill: that could be our SLOGAN
Chris: NO
Chris: NO POLITICAL OFFICE
Phill: but c'mon
Phill: i can see it now
Phill: okay so im printing a copy of this log
Phill: and making a poster out of it
Phill: in fact ill do that right now
Chris: alright phill
Chris: you can try and get me elected
Chris: you can't expect any co-operation from me at all
Phill: I can live with that. ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/2463212/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/2463212/ Wed, 19 May 2004 14:27:28 PDT

I'm not sure. But I'm back and no longer angsty (yay?).

And more photos soon! ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/2429291/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/2429291/ Fri, 14 May 2004 17:18:16 PDT
he is currently deciding what to do with himself and, perhaps more importantly, forgetting a few things.

he wishes all you freaks a nice stay. don't forget to check the salad bar on aisle 6 and that the power tools are always stored in the back of aisle 9, just besides the batteries. ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/2402368/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/2402368/ Mon, 10 May 2004 19:59:40 PDT
Got a pretty load of work I'm avoiding and that is clearly insane, considering, good ol'chaps. And school's almost over.

Tho I'm getting hooked on tea. I mean, fuck coffee. Green tea is clearly where the shit is at, mothafucka. Easy to mix, easier to drink and I'll be damned but its far snobbier too.

Its the closest thing to out-right stoned I'll ever get anytime soon, I reckon.
I mean, the symptons are pretty much the same. You are light headed. Stoner rock is that much better, surprisingly. You still get the munchies. Nothing that comes out of your mouth makes much sense.
You find yourself exchanging sexual invitations to an equally straight, male friend. Drinking water helps and you're be fucked if you need to pay attention to one sole thing.
Beauty is that you can still drive and can operate heavy machinery.

You know, it happens.
Caffeine overdosing, that is.

Specially when you can't tell how much is "way too much fucking tea" (green tea isn't supposed to be opaque, is it?) but I'm getting down to the right amount. ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/2243353/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/2243353/ Sat, 17 Apr 2004 15:23:13 PDT [18:27:54] { nothing left for me to do but DANCE }:
[18:28:01] Parabola: eh?
[18:28:31] { nothing left for me to do but DANCE }: eh
[18:28:44] { nothing left for me to do but DANCE }: i cant mount the rest of my partitions
[18:28:48] Parabola: why not
[18:28:54] Parabola: no ntfs support?
[18:29:23] { nothing left for me to do but DANCE }: no they are in fat 32
[18:29:27] { nothing left for me to do but DANCE }: it just tells me to bugger off
[18:29:31] { nothing left for me to do but DANCE }: i go "mount plz"
[18:29:39] { nothing left for me to do but DANCE }: it tels me "NO YOU GO DIE"
[18:30:00] Parabola: did you try "mount plz kekeke ~_^" ?
[18:30:13] { nothing left for me to do but DANCE }: hmm but then it tells me hda dont exist
[18:30:19] Parabola: hmm
[18:30:32] Parabola: did you glomp it at all?
[18:31:14] { nothing left for me to do but DANCE }: yeah i tried the whole hip motions and vertical thrusts
[18:31:24] Parabola: did you do it dry?
[18:31:30] { nothing left for me to do but DANCE }: but then it complained that its not even in /etc/mntab/
[18:31:31] { nothing left for me to do but DANCE }: damn
[18:31:31] { nothing left for me to do but DANCE }: no
[18:31:36] Parabola: thats prolly it ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1947678/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1947678/ Wed, 03 Mar 2004 19:51:46 PST I need some time to think. ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1834289/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1834289/ Thu, 12 Feb 2004 16:11:55 PST
Then you start to think about your life. Well, most likely due to the hormones that cause such drastic emotional shifts, but oh well about those.

Mainly because I envy the two girls. I mean look at them. I want a pretty girl on my lap too, damnit. Like, now.

What also bothers me is a lack of purpose. Which is only fueld by my growing procrastination. And lack of a self-esteem. I suck at that bit. Like woa.

But yes. I just wanted to get the old journal out of the way.

I need to do something. ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1720527/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1720527/ Wed, 21 Jan 2004 19:50:17 PST
Now here's hows it goin', biatches.

I don't know, stuff seems poetic in the snow at 10.15 pm on a weekday after you spent 4 hours at a friends' house.

It's good stuff.

I also lost my napsack and am utterly convinced that I screwed up math. I mean it was too easy. If math is easy it means you fucked it.

And my marks... well they pwned. ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1606852/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1606852/ Wed, 31 Dec 2003 03:40:07 PST

I found out about some good music.
I understood (more recently) the sappier songs from the playlist.
I figured out that you just need to set your own pace.
I learned that it really doesn't matter what other people think.
I made some good friends.
I lost some innocence ( #devart, `wizzo !)
I grew a goatee.
I got some fresh perspective.
I decided I need some originality.

I set a plot.

I fucking pwnt.

And now I await to see what is next in line. ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1489825/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1489825/ Thu, 04 Dec 2003 13:50:03 PST
I have roughly 8 hours - that is, from right now until the minimum amount of time needed for sleeping - to do a lot of work.


I hate myself.

Oh, and yesterday I went 20+ subway stops out of my way for a cinnabun - a stupidly delicious pastry - with a friend. Well... it sounds weird doesn't it, particularly when I have so much needing doing.

On a second hand, I plan to have fun these holidays.




Now, you, heathens, tell me something. No, seriously, it really doesn't matter. What are you doing? Hit ctrl+v or whatever. Name a good song. Ask me questions. Doesn't matter really. Just talk. ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1481080/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1481080/ Tue, 02 Dec 2003 15:52:51 PST [dial tone]
[dialing]
Please press 1 for sevice in Eng--[dial]
Please enter your card numb-- [dialing]
Please enter the number you wi--[dialing]
[ring]
[click]
Hey.
Hey!
Hows it going?
Oh, not bad, not bad. You?
Pretty good.
Good, good.
Indeed.
So... what do you think of x?
He's alright. Could've been better in y or z, tho.
Well, I think those where his best w's to begin with.
Very well, then.
Indeed.
Tho, you have to agree on t.
Fair enough.
Good.
You're good.
You're better.
No, you are!
You are!
Nuh huh.
Uh, yeah huh.
Nuh huh, you are!
*giggles*
*silently smiles*
I love you.
Oh, I love you too.
Really?
Really really.
Well, thats good.
Oh, I know.
Do you?
Uh huh.
Good.
Yup.
I want to kiss you right now.
Me too...
Really?
I really do.
Good.
*comfortable silence*
YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE REMAINING
Nooo!
It always comes around in the worst moments!
I knoooow.
Well, then, I love you, dear!
I love you too!
Ooookay.
Hum hum.
Ugh, well, bye love!
By--- [click] ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1382402/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1382402/ Mon, 10 Nov 2003 18:18:16 PST
The number i, which stands for imaginary numbers. If that isn't the most delightful amount of abstractionism and bullshit I've ever seen, I don't know what is . And I love it. I mean, it doesnt make sense and best of all, its not supposed to! It's an imaginary number.

i^2=-1 which therefore allows us to state that i^4=1 or that i^5=i.

Its delightful .

I'm suppose to have an ISU (independant study unit, short for BS galore) revolving around it - and I know exactly what I'm gonna do.

God invented complex numbers because he hates you. And thats just perfect.


*update* judging by the first three comments, I supose its not common knowledge .

Imaginary numbers are a real branch of math. They are part of the root of the number system called Complex Numbers, right after Real Numbers and Integers. I learned all of the above in math class just earlier today. i^2=-1 is true. See, you can't have negative results when having something to the power of whatever (x^2 for instance), and thats where imaginary numbers come into play . ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1298881/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1298881/ Sun, 19 Oct 2003 19:52:38 PDT
It starts all nice and sunny in the form of the black bean some dirty, underpaid Bolivian dude working for 5 cents an hour rips you away from the mother-plant. Then, you get bleached off, washed carefully and packaged like all hell broke loose with millions of critters just like you, together by the ton, so you can be shipped 8 000 kms north. Upon which you'll crushed into smitherens, and then boiling water will be 'washed' with your mortal remains - all of this so some (chances are) fat asshole who didnt get enough sleep, prolly 'cause he was watching losers in 'The Bachelor', can manage not to fall alseep during his responsabilities. And, all of this while being named after a God forsaken land fuck knows where it is that can't sustain the growth of coffee.

I mean, you gotta at least disapprove of it.

I'm sick of a couple of things, which I will not enumerate, and theres that, and I'm pissed. I've decided to be honest with people - i.e. tell them to fuck off if they have it coming (I still think one should be nice to people).

And being lonely doesn't help either.

On the side, I've got some more photos comin' up. Sometime next week. Yeap, that. And such.




"My opinions may have changed, but not the fact that I am right." ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1204382/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1204382/ Thu, 25 Sep 2003 21:34:22 PDT A smile crosses my face
Just knowing you are here




I had to update it with something, let it be a haiku by me. Take it as you please.

New photos coming soon... Irish Cream is the best coffe around... I REALLY have to update my minidiscs.


Have a nice day, everybody.
Just... enjoy yourself and remember... things aren't so bad. ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1170063/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1170063/ Tue, 16 Sep 2003 19:13:07 PDT
There is an art, it says, or rather, a knack to flying.

The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground
and miss.

Pick a nice day, it suggests, and try it.
The first part is easy.

All it requires is simply the ability to throw yourself forward with all your weight, and the willingness not to mind that it's going to hurt.

That is, it's going to hurt if you fail to miss the ground.

Most people fail to miss the ground, and if they are really trying properly, the likelihood is that they will fail to miss it fairly hard.

Clearly, it is this second part, the missing, which presents the difficulties.

One problem is that you have to miss the ground accidentally. It's no good deliberately intending to miss the ground because you won't. You have to have your attention suddenly distracted by something else when you're halfway there, so that you are no longer thinking about falling, or about the ground, or about how much it's going to hurt if you fail to miss it.

It is notoriously difficult to prise your attention away from these three things during the split second you have at your disposal. Hence most people's failure, and their eventual disillusionment with this exhilarating and spectacular sport.

If, however, you are lucky enough to have your attention momentarily distracted at the crucial moment by, say, a gorgeous pair of legs (tentacles, pseudopodia, according to phyllum and/or personal inclination) or a bomb going off in your vicinity, or by suddenly spotting an extremely rare species of beetle crawling along a nearby twig, then in your astonishment you will miss the ground completely and remain bobbing just a few inches above it in what might seem to be a slightly foolish manner.

This is a moment for superb and delicate concentration.

Bob and float, float and bob.

Ignore all considerations of your own weight and simply let yourself waft higher.

Do not listen to what anybody says to you at this point because they are unlikely to say anything helpful.

They are most likely to say something along the lines of, 'Good God, you can't possibly be flying!'

It is vitally important not to believe them or they will suddenly be right.

Waft higher and higher.
Try a few swoops, gentle at first, then drift above the treetops breathing regularly.
DO NOT WAVE AT ANYBODY.

When you have done this a few times you will the moment of distraction rapidly becomes easier and easier to achieve.

You will then learn all sorts of things about how to control your flight, your speed, your manoeuvrability, and the trick usually lies in not thinking too hard about whatever you want to do, but just allowing it to happen as if it was going to anyway.

You will also learn about how to land properly, which is something you will almost certainly cock up, and cock up badly, on your first attempt."

Life, The Universe and Everything
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Everybody should read the trilogy of five, its brilliant

Cheers . ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1078712/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/1078712/ Mon, 18 Aug 2003 21:30:25 PDT Well, I knew it for some time now, but hadn't put it this way yet.

Essentially, life is a product of a massive amount of coincidences, freak accidents and just plain huge amounts of cock-ups. More logically speaking, life began when a group of atoms hit each other and formed a curious pattern. This pattern had the quite amazing ability of copying itself (later it was to be called DNA) and thus life was born. Ever since, life has evolved from mistakes that occur when the copying of the pattern happens. Essentially, cock-ups.

That's right, you are the product of a massive and retardingly large freak accident. Techinically, the probability of you existing and, in fact reading this very text, is by far and large approximately 2 to the power of several hundred thousand billions (give or take a few trillions, I'd venture) to one. IN fact, I'm lying - the number is probably much higher.
I mean, think about it. A pluricelular bag of water with a vastittude of especialised organ groups and that can even maintain enough balance to walk on two legs. That's phenomenal. That's retardingly phenomenal, if you come to think of it.

While this might sound slightly depressing, I think its amazingly comforting. I mean, if the odds are against you getting up from your bed in the first place, what are they of you actually making it to work? Wait, that doesnt sound to good. What I'm trying to say is that everything you do is a huge accomplishment, an affront to math and physics - if you look at it that way.

Of course, since the universe is infinite that means that anything you can imagine exists in it (yup, trees that have coke bottles as fruits do exist, you just will never see them) but lets not let a sense of proportion ruin our little 'miracle' .

And yeah. Stuff is good. ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/939795/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/939795/ Sun, 13 Jul 2003 09:45:36 PDT
Passo a explicar. O Homem precisa de razões - ou objectivos - para ter vontade de sair da cama. Grande parte do progresso tem realmente sido gerida por 4 factores essencials: fome, frio ou calor, sexo e dinheiro. De resto, a maior parte das pessoas nunca faria nada na vida se não fosse por isso, mas estamos a sair do ponto que estou a querer provar.

Eu, por exemplo, preciso de um propósito na vida. Preciso de um ponto B que precisa urgentemente que eu saia do ponto A para lá chegar a tempo e horas. Ou pelo menos um ponto B minimamente definido - "por ali" - que me guie na vida.
Ó pá, é daquelas coisas.

Mas a maior parte da malta - os ditos turistas - por sua vez não têm nada que fazer. Nada. Quer dizer, comem, durmem mad quando chega a pontos B, ó pá, népia. Tudo lhes é novo, ou pelo menos não lhes interessa.

E eu, dos meus 1.83 metros tenho passos (e patas) grandes e isso desespera-me, pelo que esforço-me por conter o "Mexe o cu, foda-se" ocasional.


A vida tem destas coisas. Mexam o cu, sff. ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/519298/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/519298/ Fri, 28 Feb 2003 21:21:43 PST
Of course this isn't quite correct. It largely depends on the person you're talking to. If they are well versed in absurd logic (also called *closed-mindedness*) they might prove hard to confuse. I think Evan would qualify as *close-minded*, so I might have truth there...

This is a somewhat accurate transcript (this was going on in phys ed class):
"But I tell you, ping-pong isn't a sport!"
"I say it is! You just haven't seen any professional games yet"
"Yeah, okay. Hey Mitch, is ping-pong a sport?" "Yeah" "You're an idiot."
"See"
"Fuck off, Phill. Hey Derek, is ping-pong a sport?" "Of course" "You're a moron; hey Chester (...)"
*6 out of 7 answer "Yeah"*
"Well Evan, you now must admit you're gay"
"What?"
"Ping-pong's a sport, they all have confirmed this, so you're gay now"
"What the hell are you talking about??"
"It was part of the deal."
"What fucking deal are you talking about?"
"C'mon now... you had to come out of the closet sooner or later"
"STFU Phill"

Of course... I never made him doubt his sexuality, just that everytime we meet he yells "Ping-pong's not a fucking sport!", so he can be perfectly sure hes not gay, I suppose.

I have discovered a newword: Jabberwocky. And this is a fancy word. See, I don't think you'll be finding it in a dictionary - at least I hope not - but its meaning is quite easy to get. Its just Jabberwocky. Jabberwocky is Jabberwocky. I like it. (actually, for those of you who don't now, Jabberwocky's a poem by Lewis Carrel, read it here [link] . Read it through. You won't understand it, unless you have a degree in math or you're crazy (either way, note me or better yet comment here and tell me what you see). Therefore, you'll get its meaning by the end of the first stanza. Just fecking amazing).

Aah, yes, and dev news: I expect a good batch of some macro photos awaiting for developement in a tank in my photo class - some of which I think are pretty good. Of course a quick view of my gallery will obviously lower your expectations, but regardless be advised!.

And as a 4th note, am I the only one who think he/she is mad after trying to read through a tutorial of photoshop?? Either I'm amazingly ignorant (which is quite likely) or those guys do it on purpose then make us feel bad by having such good example files.... Argh. I guess I'll understand them sooner or later...
Cheers.-------------
'I would say, that if your computer suddently crahses at 4.52 in the morning, its God's way of saying "go to bed. Now".'
-------------
I thought I owed moglenstar a more personal thanks on the new avatar he (in his über boredom and to my request) made me. Thanks, it looks much better than that excuse for an animated gif I made...
Cheers.
]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/509083/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/509083/ Sun, 23 Feb 2003 00:22:40 PST To step on it, crack it, melt it, drink it and/or put them in alcoholic beverages (I'm quite fond of the latter).

Ice is the devil. It serves no purpose but to piss me off. It is slippery beyond my sense of reality and the way it's invisible in the morning just seems built to particularly tweak away at me. Therefore, God must've decided to punish man by forcing water to become a hard-as-hell, the definition of slippery substance when it gets cold - which serves as a double punishment ('cause if there is anything Portuguese winters have taught me is that cold's a sadistic frigid bitch).

So, in my limited wisdom I have formulated one of the reasons God created man: to kill ice and to one day see the anihalation (or however you spell it) of ice. But then the skeptics, in their foul ways, tell me "but Phill, its gonna snow tomorrow... So tomorrow there's gonna be a fresh layer of ice that formed from the ice you just spent 30 mins shattering".
I am usually reply "A man can dream, can he not?".

Aside from all of my ranting, has anybody noticed how DA's servers seem to have a different notion of time than most humans (you know, moving in one direction, towards). I have come to this conclusion by noticing that my page views are still the same when I logged on this afternoon and by the frequent loop of the "8 new dev messages" warning. Curious...

On a third note, I added yesterday a new deviation made in 30 mins after seeing a really good stock photo by stock-kraehe. Its entitled - in my proud tradition of shitty titles - "Theres Hair Everywhere - Edged", where the Edged is the only thing different from the stock photo's original name. Thus, I have discovered how that there are some very good stock photos out there.

Oh well.-------------
'I would say, that if your computer suddently crahses at 4.52 in the morning, its God's way of saying "go to bed. Now".'
-------------
I thought I owed moglenstar a more personal thanks on the new avatar he (in his über boredom and to my request) made me. Thanks, it looks much better than that excuse for an animated gif I made...
Cheers.
]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/500827/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/500827/ Tue, 18 Feb 2003 09:08:36 PST
It might've been because I had drained the very last megs of ram with Photoshop, had been on for the computer for 4 hours and my Iexplore for some reason doesn't like DeviantArt's cgi script, but I'm more comfortable thinking God had his finger in there.

The way I see it, God is just a regular fellow who just happened to create our perception of reality - but has been around for so long now he's starting to not like people. Blasphemy? Maybe.
Maybe Wilfred Owen had a very good point... But oh well.

Like that I can also atribute guilt to the computer. See, when I post comments or send notes or whatever, Iexplore yells at me saying "403 Forbidden. You don't have permission to post on the server", but it gets there anyways. Deviations, on the other hand crash my computer. I've been told to format the computer but I'm too lazy.

Oh well.
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Too lazy to make a new journal entry, I just thought I owed moglenstar a more personal thanks on the new avatar he (in his über boredom and to my request) made me. Thanks, it looks much better than that excuse for an animated gif I made...
Cheers. ]]> ~hif http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/485846/ http://hif.deviantart.com/journal/485846/ Sun, 09 Feb 2003 15:55:14 PST
It might've been because I had drained the very last megs of ram with Photoshop, had been on for the computer for 4 hours and my Iexplore for some reason doesn't like DeviantArt's cgi script, but I'm more comfortable thinking God had his finger in there.

The way I see it, God is just a regular fellow who just happened to create our perception of reality - but has been around for so long now he's starting to not like people. Blasphemy? Maybe.
Maybe Wilfred Owen was had a very good point... But oh well.

Like that I can also atribute guilt to the computer. See, when I post comments or send notes or whatever, Iexplore yells at me saying "403 Forbidden. You don't have permission to post on the server", but it gets there anyways. Deviations, on the other hand crash my computer. I've been told to format the computer but I'm too lazy.

Oh well.
]]> ~hif