Just a few semi-random things:
I’m not usually one for conspiracy theories, but …
Computer program found guilty of practicing law. Does that mean that lawyers can pass the Turing Test?
And finally, via Anachronista, we have this. Based on the questions, I was expecting Vizzini, actually.
Which Princess Bride Character are You?I’ve been home sick for a few days. Cough (a bad one), congestion, and my voice sounds like the rusty hinges of the gates of Hell. Got in to see the doctor today, and was told it was bronchitis. Apparently, it’s running around the area right now.
My case is severe enough that the doctor prescribed a double run of antibiotics, in addition to cough suppressant, decongestant, and expectorant. The cough suppressant is the most immediately important to me, because I’ve got a racking cough that’s coming close to cracking my ribs.
Anyway, I caught part of a show about “Pizza Palaces” on the Travel channel this morning, and they made a point of the people in line waiting to get into one of the places. That brought back some pleasant memories.
Back in the mid-70s, I was stationed at the submarine base in New London, Connecticut. The local pizza place I usually patronized, Great Oak Pizza, was up a little north of the base in a strip mall on highway 12. It was owned and run by a guy who’d been a Greek submariner during WWII, Spiro Vitouladitis, and his brother George.
Now, they’d get lines. Some weekend nights, the line outside waiting to get in would run all the way to the end of the strip mall. When the lines got long enough, Spiro would hand a pitcher of beer and a stack of plastic cups to the first person in line, which would be passed back through the line to keep everyone happy. If there were enough kids in line, he’d provide a pitcher of soda for them.
Their “kitchen sink” pizza was called a Spiro’s Special. After diligent training, I got to where I could finish about 3/4 of a small and about 1/2 a pitcher of root beer by myself.
The last time I went back to Connecticut (1985, I believe), they’d moved into larger quarters further up the highway. Just wasn’t the same, though.
Memory requirements for American business information are going up again.
I’m old enough I can remember paying $495 for a floppy drive with a capacity of 113k bytes, and I remember seeing advertisements for the early hard drives – $2400 for 5 MB on a 16″ platter. Now I’ve got 500GB on my desktop (250 internal, 250 via USB). We’ve come a long way.
but my daughter’s the one who’ll love it, since she loves cars. So here we go, testing the top speed of the Bugatti Veyron.
Update: Ace points to this story of an idiot and his Bugatti.