Ángel
@angel@triptico.com
Location: 40.4235492,-3.6617828
100 following, 177 followers
Comprar LA ATALAYA RECORTADA CONTRA EL CIELO (editorial Libros del Futuro)
Sinopsis:
Bran tuvo una adolescencia complicada, y su vida adulta no es mejor. Una sucesión de pérdidas familiares, una gran cicatriz en la cara y sus circunstancias personales han forjado en ella una personalidad esquiva.Y como si fuera una maldición añadida, la protagonista hereda y debe hacerse cargo de una casa familiar, epicentro de buena parte de las desgracias que se abatieron sobre sus seres queridos.
Una visita a la enmohecida y arruinada vivienda, ubicada en un pequeño pueblo madrileño, sumergirá a Bran en una travesía angustiante por túneles oscuros, estancias claustrofóbicas y seres terroríficos.
last of the fish
#unix_surrealism #technomage #gameoftrees #9front no #thinkpad #openbsd #runbsd
Let's say you run a nonprofit animal shelter. And for some reason, some people feel you should be seeing hockey-stick growth, but the donations aren't covering it.
So you decide to start up a side-line of selling kittens for meat.
Then you will inevitably have someone stroking their chin and saying, "Yes, yes, but how could they afford to stay open if they weren't selling kitten deli slices?"
Some might say - maybe you aren't an animal shelter any more. Some might say.
https://jwz.org/b/yk2A
the return of AUTOMA!
automa was the name of my blog in the past. it was abolished for no particular reason and its contents lay spread about in various corners of the internet.
the section now returns, aggregating all the weird articles, stories, guides and posts.
He realized he was unable to express that love in words; so big, so overwhelming, so eerie. He had no alternative than to keep living his life: lost some friends, met new others, found a job in number crunching, as he liked to say.
Years passed and he missed no new movie featuring her; he saw great stories, mediocre films and crappy flicks just because she was there. Every time the screen showed her face he felt like a delightful rendez-vous: how is you life, are you doing well, missed you so much. And every time he felt his heart breaking into pieces. Sometimes he even cried, his face covered by his hands, warm tears in the dark theater, always surrounded by strangers. Because love hurts, love is like a sickness, love is a strange and silent death.
One day, on one of those occasions when disappointments pile over each other, he decided to travel to Paris. Once there he felt he also loved the streets, the corners, the chimneys; it was a world that was a bit like her, a bit part her. He also felt the sadness of loving something that is almost not there, a mirage, a trompe-l'oeil. The bittersweet feeling of a life wasted loving a ghost.
And then he saw her. It happened on those tiring stairs in Montmartre, no less; he was sweating and panting while she moved almost like having the wind in her sails. He recognized the crow-black hair, the pale face, the glittering eyes now surrounded by little wrinkles, more beautiful than ever. Twenty-five years ago he saw her playing the grieving spouse of the great composer Patrice de Courcy and that day he started living. He smiled her and she smiled back.
This is another bone-chilling story from the ongoing book "FROM THE DEEPS OF SORROW - Sysadmin nightmares come true" by Stefano Marinelli.
"Out in the deep vastness of space, where traffic is slow and machines are old, the endless crawling of public resources by bots is a blight on our limited resources. If we don’t want our world to burn, we must keep them out, never invite them in. They try to change shapes, blend in, and therefore we must use what crude tools we have to defend ourselves."
Butlerian Jihad
A few days ago, a client’s data center (well, actually a server room) "vanished" overnight. My monitoring showed that all devices were unreachable. Not even the ISP routers responded, so I assumed a sudden connectivity drop. The strange part? Not even via 4G.
I then suspected a power failure, but the UPS should have sent an alert.
The office was closed for the holidays, but I contacted the IT manager anyway. He was home sick with a serious family issue, but he got moving.
To make a long story short: the company deals in gold and precious metals. They have an underground bunker with two-meter thick walls. They were targeted by a professional gang. They used a tactic seen in similar hits: they identify the main power line, tamper with it at night, and send a massive voltage spike through it.
The goal is to fry all alarm and surveillance systems. Even if battery-backed, they rarely survive a surge like that. Thieves count on the fact that during holidays, owners are away and fried systems can't send alerts. Monitoring companies often have reduced staff and might not notice the "silence" immediately.
That is exactly what happened here. But there is a "but": they didn't account for my Uptime Kuma instance monitoring their MikroTik router, installed just weeks ago. Since it is an external check, it flagged the lack of response from all IPs without needing an internal alert to be triggered from the inside.
The team rushed to the site and found the mess. Luckily, they found an emergency electrical crew to bypass the damage and restore the cameras and alarms. They swapped the fried server UPS with a spare and everything came back up.
The police warned that the chances of the crew returning the next night to "finish" the job were high, though seeing the systems back online would likely make them move on. They also warned that thieves sometimes break in just to destroy servers to wipe any video evidence.
Nothing happened in the end. But in the meantime, I had to sync all their data off-site (thankfully they have dual 1Gbps FTTH), set up an emergency cluster, and ensure everything was redundant.
Never rely only on internal monitoring. Never.
I was left by a big house, made of pale stone. The car disappeared behind a dust cloud.
By the door there was a man. He was old, bald, a bit overweight, but looked healthy. He wore a blue tie, a stripped vest and a white shirt.
"Buon giorno!", he said. Waived a hand.
"Hello! What a lovely day."
"You are Mr. Corbetto, I suppose". I loved how it sounded. For an instant I considered officially changing my name to that.
"Miroslav Corbett. Nice to meet you, Don Pasquale."
"Please, come in."
I found myself in a room with a very high ceiling. Three chairs and a table; the tablecloth showed a pattern of light green flowers. There was a bottle of wine, two short glasses and a dish with slices of something. The same reddish light I saw outside flowed through an oval window like a spotlight. A grey mutt was sleeping under it and ignored me with royal elegance.
"Have a bit of pecorino toscano", said Mr. Pasquale. "It's magnificient."
I had a piece. He was right.
He filled the two glasses with wine.
"I'm sorry, no alcohol for me", I said.
He shrugged and took a sip from his glass, visibly delighted.
"So, what do you want to know?", he said, inviting me to sit down.
"As I told you in my letter, my job is documenting things. Specifically, things that are happening after the Great Anomaly."
"That was a very big fuckup", he said. His English was thick but precise.
"It was. Many issues has been fixed since then, but many others are still dangling. A bunch of creatures crossed The Seam, wreaking havoc and spoiling everything."
"You bet it. We had several of those motherfuckers here. It was hard to put them down, but we finally did it."
"I'm sure you did."
"Ain't you one of the Cleaners that many talk about?", he said while having another sip of wine.
"Oh, no, no", I said. "Those are great and effective fellows, but I'm just a documentalist. I just take notes and fill forms."
"You fill Excel sheets, do you?", he said while winking. Microsoft software products were known to be one of the causes of the Great Anomaly and consequently banned forever. I smiled back. A risky joke. But all OK.
"Only paper ones, I swear."
"Superb!"
The dog stretched, sucked his balls and got back to sleep.
I asked Don Pasquale about how hard the Great Anomaly striked here.
"Oh, very badly.", he replied, "There are still some unfixed issues, but mainly just places and images, nothing too severe. We also had a bunch of that filthy bloodsuckers fucking around. You know, the Vampires, they even kidnapped the innkeeper's daughter, never to be seen again."
Through the window a red brick tower could be seen, behind a bunch of hills. It looked smooth, almost painting-like, under the sunlight. I found it very distracting for some reason, so I forced me to look away.
"This is the main reason I'm here.", I said, my mind slightly blurred. "They are usually very hard to eradicate, and I wanted to ask you if you know what happened to them."
"Oh, yes.", said Mr. Pasquale while munching a slice of cheese. "We just took them one by one and forced them to watch several of those awful young adult movies featuring Vampires, you know, the ones with the sparkling skin kids and such. Ha ha. Those filthy flying rats are tough motherfuckers, but they could not swallow the cheessy flicks full of bland, pale, skinny crybabies. Then we hit with a second strike: we read them a bunch of those romance fantasy crappy books with all that cringy sex scenes and stupid dialog and cardboard characters."
"Wow."
"Yes. That was what we did. And then they left. One after another. The Vampires were horrified with how we humans represented them. They flew away because they were ASHAMED."
I was speechless. And then I found myself looking at the chapitel of the shimmering red tower again.
"Try not to look at that tower too much,", said Don Pasquale, suddenly aware, "as it can be dangerous. You know, that is one of the effects of the Great Anomaly we haven't fixed yet. It looks very real, beautiful even. But it makes you think, it makes you wish, that you can just pass over those hills and find the base of the tower and cross the door and climb up to the battlements and toll the bells, but you can't. It's not really there. It's a trompe-l'oeil. You will never get to it, as it's always beyond the horizon, all while looking very close. You can get obsessed about going there and lose your mind and die of thirst and hunger trying to reach it."
I wasn't listening. I was anxious. I was just craving to go to the tower.
Fortunately, Mr. Pasquale took me by the hand and carried me to the back of the house. There, a bunch of kittens were chasing each other. Their mother, a magnificient cat with a pure white fur, was watching them with loving boredom. It was a mundane but captivating scene. I returned to the real world, but not immediately.
Personally, I consider the existence of so much ways of receiving water from the sky pretty redundant, bloated and unnecessary. Rain is awful and cumbersome enough, why also have falling ice in multiple formats and textures. Snow is specially annoying, covering everything with a dull, boring layer of white.
Rain/snow/blizzard/whatever is a clear example of design-by-comittee.
1990s: programmers are nerds
2010s: programmers are rockstars
2020s: programmers are extinct
Have you already grown tired of waiting for #Mastodon to implement some proper #Markdown support ?
You still can't believe to be waiting for such a simple feature on 2026?
Well .. you can keep waiting until you grow varicose veins on your legs, or just move to #snac2 , call it a 9 years old and be done with it! 🥳
Here is the CPU usage graph for the last 24 hours of the FediMeteo VM. A full 24 hours, during which a huge number of people are connecting, helped by the traction gained from being among the top stories on Hacker News and Lobsters, as well as the many shares across the Fediverse.
RAM usage? Active, around 450 MB. Then there is cache, ARC, and so on. But in practice, zero swap in use after days of uptime.
39 jails running, 39 snac instances, nginx serving the homepage, and HAProxy. HAProxy caching enabled. ZFS snapshots every 15 minutes, backups via zfs send and receive every hour. The same hourly schedule applies to the recalculation of cities, countries, and followers for the homepage.
All of this on a 4 euro per month FreeBSD VM.
If anyone has doubts about the quality and efficiency of FreeBSD, this is the data to show.
How conservative empathy works:
#Conservatism #Conservatives #MeganMcCain #Maternity #Hypocrisy #USPolitcs
Two Fediverse clients I like are Elk and Phanpy, but both had the same issue: the inability to filter "replies" and "boosts" from the timeline. For me this is essential. I can't keep up with my timeline, and if I also see replies to posts unrelated to what I follow, it just becomes chaos. So I tried to implement these filters and opened a PR.
The Elk developers have already merged it into the main branch, so we should soon see the two hide options appear in Elk. Hopefully the same will happen in Phanpy as well, because this greatly improves the experience on two excellent Fediverse tools, which are also compatible with snac.
https://github.com/elk-zone/elk/pull/3482
@angel we definitely do. I'm lucky enough to be able to go and see it from time to time (even if last time has been in August). So the next time I'll watch the sea, I'll dedicate it to you. Meanwhile, I'm sending you this photo, from November 2024
Those of you near The Sea, you'll know that I envy you. Please, give my regards to the one I love, I will be there, who knows when.
they are idiots...
you can copy and paste the text from some of the epstein files to unredact it...
absolute idiots...
The Gray Teacher
On a gray winter morning, memory drifts back to an old classroom, a stern teacher, and the thin line between mist and humidity.
And so - what if I went back in time to my twenties?😆 Same for me. The day of my 20th birthday I was in the army, and I don't miss a thing about that day.No, thank you.
'magnetic fields'
boost if you like your diskettes organic
#unix_surrealism #technomage #comic #fediart #mastoart #art #recursion #foss #diskette #floppy #runbsd
Opened the window to check a noise.
Saw nothing but the void - a wall of fog.
Closed it.
I now have zero answers and new fears.
#OverUnder 046 with @stefano
He's a #Unix enthusiast, he hangs out at the #BSD cafe, and write about various systems.
If Unix tips interest you, you should definitely check him out.
Today, he shares his thoughts on #DragonFlyBSD, #AWS, #TuxedoComputers, #zsh, and #Nespresso.
#terminal #shell #opensource #coffee #blog #cloud #Tuxedo #fediverse #mastodon
There is an apocryphal saying that the women of Lemnos stopped worshiping Aphrodite because they were dreaming about a bunch of handsome men on a fancy boat that were to arrive to the island on a humid and sunny day.
Mail is crazy because it's like 99 pieces of straight up garbage and 1 that if you don't reply to you're going to jail.
> "We recommend this shoe organizer with room for 40 pairs! It fits in compact areas like a small apartment!"
Sorry but if you have _40 pairs of shoes_ living in a tiny apartment and you're buying this thing you're some form of class traitor.
Which class you're betraying depends on whether you went into debt to buy those shoes 😂
The Man of MATA pt3 - The first MATA_BOT
previously: https://analognowhere.com/techno-mage/the_man_of_mata/
[...] To live longer than forty years is bad manners, is vulgar, immoral. Who does live beyond forty? Answer that, sincerely and honestly I will tell you who do: fools and worthless fellows.Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from the Underground
Quien todavía esté ahí es cómplice.
Also, Spanish is my mother tongue, so I have the privilege to read Borges' words as he conceived them, without external intrusion, and is a bliss.
She then asks me where the switch is to turn it back on. I have no idea, of course.Of course, as you do computer stuff, anything regarding cables is your expertise and responsability. Been there.
Anyway, as others have already said, this story says something good about the human quality of this person that, after realising their tantrum was inappropriate, called back and apoligized. Even more so if they're going through something.
We live in a very stressing world.