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The Rossiya Ice Breaker

So, Russian scientists in mini-subs went under the North Pole and planted a titanium capsule with a Russian flag?  What's not to love?  I especially like the Rossiya, a nuclear powered ice breaker, seen here.  Its 1.8 inch thick steel hull can break 2-3 meter thick ice at a constant speed of 3 knots, the equivalent of 4,350 old credit cards simultaneously scraping a windshield the size of Australia.  There's something charming about trying to claim a land mass with a flag nowadays, even a waterproof titanium flag.  Don't they realize the symbol of a modern land grab is the Halliburton contractor?  Stick a couple of those on a pole and no one will mess with you.

Here's a drink called the Russian Ice Breaker, which involves breaking ice literally and socially.  Pour three shots of room temperature vodka (Russian or Polish, whichever you prefer) into a glass that's nearby but may not be yours.  Then hold part of an ice cube against the roof of your mouth until you start to get a headache.  Quickly kill the headache by downing the warm vodka, then find a stranger and say something amiable to them.  You'll become instant friends, at least in what's left of your mind. 

Maybe more than friends!  Try this line:  "I know we've only just met, but I feel like we connect on a deep level, via an underwater mountain range called the Lomonsov Ridge."  It's guaranteed to melt that special someone's Arctic shelf.

Technorati Tags: Russia, ice breaker, North Pole, Lomonsov Ridge, Love in the Time of Permafrost

The Number 102

There are two things you need to know about the number 102.  First, although it's close to 101 and 103, it's an entirely different number, and if you treat it like 101 or 103 your math is inaccurate and low class.  Also, the divisors of 102 are 1, 2, 3, 6, 17, 34, 51, and 102.  Don't act all surprised that 102 is a divisor of itself -- it's no big thing.  Weren't you listening when I told you about 1?  Anyway, if you add all the divisors of 102 (except for 1 and 102 itself, since you seem to have a problem with those) you get 113.  Now, 113 is a prime number.  Don't let anybody tell you different.

So, how special is that?  Not very.  It's not the first number to have its proper divisors (discounting 1 and itself) sum to a prime and it won't be the last.  (The first one is 4 and I forgot what the last one is.)  84 has the same property, but it's a little low for me.  118 does, too, but come on, 118.  Blech.  So I guess when I want a number with that certain something, that divisors sum to a prime feel to it, I'll go with 102 every time.  It is the 'N Sync with puppies of number theory trivia.

Technorati Tags: 102, number theory, N Sync, puppies, learning can be fun, but not this time

OK, that's enough Fallout 3 news.

Their site is getting hammered, and not in a fun, alcoholic way, but I was able to download and watch the Fallout 3 teaser.  It's good.  Doesn't say anything about the mechanics of the game, but it says a lot about the general aesthetic, which seems to be "just like the old Fallout, but in 3-D."  And it's clearly rendered in-engine, or it would look a lot better.  (For example, the chair looks a little blocky.)  So we know that it has some tenuous relation to the actual game, which is always nice.

I enjoy game trailers much more than movie trailers, because they actually try to build anticipation.  Movie trailers show you all the good bits of the movie, attempting to overwhelm you with details.  Here's the funniest joke, here's the biggest explosion, here's a romantic bit, and these are all the main plot points.  A game trailer can never show you the best bits, because you create them as you play the game.  Even in adventure games, the plot is not the real story -- the story is how you interact with the plot.  The play's the thing, so to speak.

The annoying thing about game trailers is that they come out before the game is finished.  By late 2008 Fallout 3 could be a bowling simulator starring a traveling salesman and a bunny.  (That game exists, too.  It's called Hotel Dusk.)  Because they're so damn expensive, you have to predict which games you're likely to enjoy, but the trailer won't help you one bit.  Reviews can help, but surprisingly little, and professional reviewers simmer in a complex, briny stew of motives.  What you need is a friend who likes you a lot and wants to share only the best game experiences with you.  Guess what, baby?  I will be that friend.  You can trust me.  I will eat any snacks you put out but I will not eat all of them.  I will always bring you beverages, I will never hog the controller, and I will sometimes crash on your sofa, if that's cool.  Oh, and I've never heard it, but I'm told I snore.

Technorati Tags: Fallout 3, games, trailer, friendship

Adventures in Walking to Places

I was walking down the street today and a guy started to spange me.  He was white, and I don't give money to white people, so I told him, "I can't help you."  That's my patented not-giving-money to people phrase.  I use it almost every time.  It's better than "I'm sorry" because I'm not, but it's not as rude as just "No."  And it's much, much better than a three-sentence excuse that, even if true, won't convince him, and besides, he's not your therapist.  Sometimes I add a little oomph to "I can't help you" by looking very earnest and voluble, as if I were about to continue with: "But you know who can?  The Lord King Christ Jesus!  He has a dollar . . . of love!"

Anyway, the only problem is that I happened to be going to the liquor store.  I really couldn't deny a guy money and then walk back ten minutes later with a bottle of aquavit and not share.  I always give liquor to beggars regardless of race, it's just something I do.  And the liquor store's little trick of putting the bottle in a paper bag and then a plastic one doesn't fool anybody.  Why do they do that?  It's silly.  If they really wanted to disguise the bottle, they should put it in a teddy bear or tape it to the bottom of a skateboard.  If they found a way to make beer lighter than air, they could hide it in a toy dirigible ironically shaped like a beer bottle -- kind of a Purloined Letter sort of thing.

Anyway anyway, I ended up walking back to my car by circling around two whole blocks on a hot day, just so I wouldn't have to share a drink with some guy who I'm sure is perfectly nice and probably has a lot of magical wisdom to teach me.  On the way, some other guy asked me for a cigarette, and I made sure to smile at him as I replied, "I'm sorry, I don't have any.  I don't really smoke.  But it's OK that you do, and I hope you find a cigarette soon.  By the way, no pressure, but would you like some aquavit while you wait?"

Did I say "Welcome!" already?

Time for my second blog entry!  Now where did I leave off.  Let's see . . .

What the hell?  Is that what I wrote? Shit!  Oh God!  Oh shit!  Oh God's shit!  Oh God's giant shit studded with pieces of the One True Cross like holy corn.  Oh God's great brown Washington Monument of . . .

Wait, am I just free associating again?  Maybe I should just read over what I just posted . . .

Oh fuck!  Oh kittens!