March 24th, 2005
|12:42 pm - [s(v(0))] I don't think you're supposed to understand this one|
Nothing like a dream in which one writes something completely and utterly useless in MUSEcode (an all-but-extinct MU* variant one hasn't touched in over 7 years) and, sussing out the problems with the first attempt, gets it right the second time.
Yes, I dreamt I softcoded a WHOlist. (See the aforementioned 'completely and utterly useless' claim.)
My husband often codes in his sleep, and then he wakes up demanding to know if I've been messing with his parameters.
It's not clear to me whether he gets some actual work done or not during these unconscious programming sessions.
This is in response to your next post that you disabled comments on... Prilosec doesn't work immediately, you have to take it for at least 2 or 3 days for it to work. Hope that's helpful advice... try Zantac for more immediate relief (usually like 45 minutes).
Sadly, I am all too well-versed in heartburn/GI remedies.
Maybe it's superstition, I dunno, but if I get toxic burps and I take prilosec, I won't get gas and death cramps. Maybe it's all these chickens I'm sacrificing.
Maybe it's the water with which you take it?
I understand completely
Last night I had one of those split-brain dreams that I sometimes have, in which I'm having the same experience simultaneously in two parallel and completely different ways. In one, I was going through a distorted version of my daily routine, dealing with archetypical people (the amalgamation of all my ex-girlfriends represented by one woman, all of my high school friends rolled into one, et cetera) and trying -- with difficulty -- to get things done. Simultaneously, everything I was surrounded by was represented as Python
code; even myself to a degree. As I interacted with people and did my general thing, I was entering and editing this code as it executed, watching variables get exchanged and classes spawning subclasses in response to what I and other people did.
It's hard to explain. The code version of the universe was purely conceptual and non-Euclidean; it wasn't like I was sitting at a computer typing the stuff, it was more like I was just aware of the nature of things. Even more strangely, the 'me' in code-space wasn't exactly the same 'me' in the physical part of the dream; we were aware of each other, but we didn't interact. The code-me wasn't editing the world with any favoritism for the physical-me, and the physical-me wasn't going out of his/my way to make the software implementation of the world easier to code.
I guess that's what happens when you make an artist write code for a week.