A Problem To Solve :-)

[Physfitfreak]

Needless to say, after more than 13.5 years of climbing, Physfit's age
had taken him to a stage in life that he could not even think of going
back down and going home. So he dropped his last National Cup tea-bag
into the hot water and began thinking to himself, "Now when I look down
I can only see the lower parts of this mountain; no sign of an Earth
underneath it; so I will spend the rest of my life here at the summit,
inside my sleeping bag, watching all these stars above me ..."

Thus the story continues...:

Soon after such thoughts, Physfit got comfortable inside his sleeping
bag and began watching the amazing stars. He gradually fell into sleep,
dreaming that ... dreaming what? Things got confusing, then settled and
he found himself not at the summit of the magic mountain but inside a
strange structure of some sort, with high ceiling and a large narrow
slot across it. A facility of some sort. Before he began slowly walking
around, he noticed his shoes and dress looked weird, like belonging to
centuries back in Iran. Then he noticed the large device inside, which
pointed towards stars from that opening in the high ceiling. Rapidly,
his mind opened up, and he remembered where he was and who he was!

He was no Physfit.

From the magic mountain, he had stepped straight into the 13th century
Maragheh Observatory in northwest Iran, run by Nasiredding Tusi, right
inside the rein of Holaku Khan, the grandson of Chengiz!...

Now he knew who he was; in fact, who he'd always been. The sole pupil of
the master Tusi, Ghotbeddin Shirazi, who also worked in the observatory.
Not even a faint single memory of the magic mountain had left in him.

On that early morning hour, close to sunrise, Nasireddin Tusi and
Ghotbeddin Shirazi had called it a day an hour earlier, and had wrapped
up their works and were ready to leave.

Ghotbeddin turned to Tusi who was still at his large, long desk and with
a smile and a confident tone told him:

"Tonight I found two unique and special integers! They're in a
marvelous and unique way related to the date of Holaku's most beautiful
daughter's birthday :)"

Tusi who knew the date of that birthday from Ghotbeddin's previous
episodes of similar wishful and foolish mushy talk, without even lifting
his head answered,

"In what way?"

Ghotbeddin said,

"Each integer is made of three non-repeating digits and when you
divide the integers by the products of their own digits they give
exactly the month and the day of birthday of Holaku's beautiful
daughter, respectively! :)"

Tusi stayed silent for a few moments, then stood up and got ready to
leave. By the time the two made it to the gate of the observatory
compound to leave the premises and go home, Tusi turned to Ghotbeddin
and in a mildly teasing tone said,

"Sorry to disappoint you Shirazi, but there's nothing unique about
those three-digit integers of yours :)"

Ghotbeddin who knew Tusi enough to get a little nervous by such comments
quickly asked,

"What do you mean?"

Tusi right away gave him two other three-digit numbers that had exactly
the same properties! One would lead to the month (like Farvardin = 1,
Ordibehesht = 2, etc) and the other would lead to the day of the month
corresponding to the daughter's birthday by the same rules Ghotbeddin
had described a few minutes back. So the little personal party that
Ghotbeddin / Physfit had imagined for himself that night was, so soon,
over :)

What was the date of Holaku's daughter's birthday?

(sci.physics added)

[Farley Flud]

Post by Physfitfreak
Tusi right away gave him two other three-digit numbers that had exactly
the same properties! One would lead to the month (like Farvardin = 1,
Ordibehesht = 2, etc) and the other would lead to the day of the month
corresponding to the daughter's birthday
What was the date of Holaku's daughter's birthday?

Month = 8 (Aban)

Day = 18


The corresponding integer pairs:

128, 672 --> 8

216, 432 --> 18

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak
Tusi right away gave him two other three-digit numbers that had exactly
the same properties! One would lead to the month (like Farvardin = 1,
Ordibehesht = 2, etc) and the other would lead to the day of the month
corresponding to the daughter's birthday
What was the date of Holaku's daughter's birthday?

Month = 8 (Aban)
Day = 18
128, 672 --> 8
216, 432 --> 18

Damn you. Dont' give the codes yet :) Give others a chance.

You didn't solve it by hands, did you!... I think a program will do that
much faster, at least for me. For doing it by hand I'd have to go back
to my college algebra again :-)

But do at least tell us you did it by hand or by a program.

[Farley Flud]

Post by Physfitfreak
But do at least tell us you did it by hand or by a program.

I used a small C program to "brute force" the solution.

There may be a way to solve it with number theory, but I
don't know very much about number theory.

Anyway, for three-digit, non-repeating integers (also with
no digit being 0) there are 9*8*7 = 504 possibilities. Only
a crazy person would do it "by hand."

[Athel Cornish-Bowden]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak
But do at least tell us you did it by hand or by a program.

I used a small C program to "brute force" the solution.
There may be a way to solve it with number theory, but I
don't know very much about number theory.
Anyway, for three-digit, non-repeating integers (also with
no digit being 0) there are 9*8*7 = 504 possibilities. Only
a crazy person would do it "by hand."

Hard to believe it now, but 65 years or so ago, when I was about 15, I
was that crazy. I read somewhere that the factors of 11111 were 41 and
271. I wondered if 1111111 had any factors, and if so what were they? I
found 239 and 4649, _by hand_! No computers then (not ones I had access
to, anyway) and I don't think I had access to a mechanical calculator.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Athel Cornish-Bowden

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak
But do at least tell us you did it by hand or by a program.

I used a small C program to "brute force" the solution.
There may be a way to solve it with number theory, but I
don't know very much about number theory.
Anyway, for three-digit, non-repeating integers (also with
no digit being 0) there are 9*8*7 = 504 possibilities.  Only
a crazy person would do it "by hand."

Hard to believe it now, but 65 years or so ago, when I was about 15, I
was that crazy. I read somewhere that the factors of 11111 were 41 and
271. I wondered if 1111111 had any factors, and if so what were they? I
found 239 and 4649, _by hand_! No computers then (not ones I had access
to, anyway) and I don't think I had access to a mechanical calculator.

But you didn't divide 1111111 by _each_ number, did you. Using just a
table of prime numbers you could divide it only by the prime numbers
beginning with 2, until you find its factors, if any. In this case you'd
find 239 times 4649 by just 52 divisions, and since the prime number
table has 4649 also as a prime number, you'd know that there would be no
other factor for 1111111.

I hope you did this, otherwise...

S

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak
But do at least tell us you did it by hand or by a program.

I used a small C program to "brute force" the solution.
There may be a way to solve it with number theory, but I
don't know very much about number theory.
Anyway, for three-digit, non-repeating integers (also with
no digit being 0) there are 9*8*7 = 504 possibilities. Only
a crazy person would do it "by hand."

By saying "by hand" I meant to go like this: There are 8 unknowns and 16
inequalities :)

And take that approach, and choose only integers in the solution areas.
It could be neat to try.

I haven't solved it either way. This is from years back, so I've
forgotten how I solved it. As soon as I get time I'll give it a try.
Then I can say for sure if your solution was good enough or not.

At this point I'm not even sure the problem is well-posed. I know that
years ago when I made this problem I was under the impression that it
was well-posed.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Farley Flud
There may be a way to solve it with number theory, but I
don't know very much about number theory.

Come to think of it, I may have concocted this problem from a math
number theory discussion in Scientific American. For sure, it was many
years ago. That's the only thing about it that I'm sure of :)

When I get time (for some reason these days various unusual chores are
popping up on me - each requiring a good part of a day's work), I'd like
to solve this both with a program and "with hand" the way I described
it. I would enjoy doing it, but deadlines are coming up and I got other
bullshit stuff to do on top of them.

[Stéphane CARPENTIER]

Post by Physfitfreak
You didn't solve it by hands, did you!...

Of course he didn't. He solved it by either google or stackoverflow.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak
Tusi right away gave him two other three-digit numbers that had exactly
the same properties! One would lead to the month (like Farvardin = 1,
Ordibehesht = 2, etc) and the other would lead to the day of the month
corresponding to the daughter's birthday by the same rules Ghotbeddin
had described a few minutes back. So the little personal party that
Ghotbeddin / Physfit had imagined for himself that night was, so soon,
over :)

Thus the story continues...

The two scientists got out and locked the gate and left.

That day, in the evening, a party was to hold in Holaku's Summer
residence not that far from Maragheh. And the two were both invited!

Ghotbeddin got home and hit the sack fast and early to wake up fully
rested before attending the party. He couldn't be contained inside his
own skin, when thinking about the prospect of seeing Holaku's daughter
again within that same day...

As he slowly drifted off into sleep he dreamed that wherever he was, he
was actually already in that party but had just noticed it! He didn't
get time to think how it happened and why he'd only now realized where
he'd been all this time. Holaku was sitting on a throne across the huge
room and some of the vazirs were here and there chatting. But he knew
that he had not yet seen the daughter, so he made himself sure he'll
stay until she shows up. Also, he knew that he and Holaku both were
waiting for Tusi to arrive, because Holaku had something to ask from him.

But there was no sign of Tusi. At his home, he had come up with an idea
which needed the use of some tables of numbers kept at the observatory,
and he had chosen to go to the observatory in the evening, not even to
Hulaku's party where he was invited!

So after some time, at some point Holaku signaled to have a talk with
Ghotbeddin. A servant and one of the vazirs immediately came over to
Ghotbeddin and together walked to where Holaku was sitting.

Holaku to Ghotbeddin:

"They tell me you are a very smart man to be in the observatory,
helping someone like Tusi. Do you think you are as smart as Tusi?"

Ghotbeddin made a faint smile and said:

"Your Majesty, I am not blessed with as much talent as God has
bestowed upon Your Majesty _or_ Tusi."

Holaku:

"I have a task for Tusi to accomplish, but in his absence I want you
to do it."

Ghotbeddin:

"Your Majesty's wish is my utmost desire."

Holaku:

"In each of my parties, a session is always included in which a
chessboard is placed on the floor, with no chess pieces on it. There is
a contest, and the winner is blindfolded and given two random chess
pieces of same color - but not any pawns - out of my pocket, to place
somewhere on the chessboard by the winner, in two of the squares. Then
the blindfold is removed and the winner will look at the chessboard and
counts the number of different moves he can make with the chess pieces
from the squares that they are in. The winner will get as many gold
coins from me as that count is. If I know in advance which two pieces
will be given to the winner, I need to know how many gold coins I should
bring with me to the party, so I could never find myself with not enough
coins to give to the winner, and never carry with me even one gold coin
that would never be needed to be given to the winner. Find how many
coins I should bring with me to the party."

Ghotbeddin:

"Your Majesty's wish will undoubtedly get fulfilled."

How many gold coins should Holaku Khan take with him to his parties?

[Farley Flud]

Post by Physfitfreak
Thus the story continues...
How many gold coins should Holaku Khan take with him to his parties?

I'll pass. I don't know how to play chess. I think that, like all
games, chess is stupid and boring.

It reminds of the time I enrolled in a computer science class at
the university. Our very first assignment was to write a program
that kept score of a bowling game.

Bowling? I don't fucking know how to bowl. I never fucking went
bowing in my entire fucking life.

So now I first gotta learn the rules of the game of bowling and
then write the program. I said: "Fuck that!" I just dropped the
course. I'll enroll with an instructor who is progressive and sane.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak
Thus the story continues...
How many gold coins should Holaku Khan take with him to his parties?

I'll pass. I don't know how to play chess. I think that, like all
games, chess is stupid and boring.
It reminds of the time I enrolled in a computer science class at
the university. Our very first assignment was to write a program
that kept score of a bowling game.
Bowling? I don't fucking know how to bowl. I never fucking went
bowing in my entire fucking life.
So now I first gotta learn the rules of the game of bowling and
then write the program. I said: "Fuck that!" I just dropped the
course. I'll enroll with an instructor who is progressive and sane.

Hahhahah :) Makes sense.

I get that feeling when in public media somebody who's supposed to
explain something for the general people uses "football" terms in his
words. Imagine Biden, while at the podium speaking, turning sideways and
beginning peeing on the floor, then turning back towards the audience
and continuing the talk as if nothing inappropriate was done. Or, ...
suddenly throw in a sentence in Mayan language... then continue in
English. Hahhahah :)

It amounts to being on the left side of the intelligence curve, where
half of the Americans happily reside. RIP Carlin... I hear you.

I used the chess game in this story cause it is a much, much more
universal pastime, and very ancient. So ancient that terms associated
with it in German and Persian are almost the same! It goes that far back.

And I used only the movement types of its pieces, and nothing else. No
other rules whatsoever. And I assumed everybody knows that chessboard is
an 8 squares by 8 squares board, consisting of 64 squares on which these
pieces can move in their own ways if not blocked by another piece.

This story gives an opportunity - for the code monkeys really - to try
their use of loops within loops to solve clear but involved logical
situations. Several arrays are involved.

I intended to later add one more piece to the two! :-) And then one
more, and then one more... Then one would get very close to do what
computer chess developers do.

But if it has to stop in this forum, before even it started, then so be it.

If my memory serves me right, that's how Ken Thompson, the other of the
duo with Dennis Ritchie, who together developed Unix, became expert in
programming and OSs. I think he wanted to make his chess program faster
and faster. I think that was the whole deal for him behind all that work
:) He won some chess computer competitions too, I think.

But I still challenge everybody in this forum other than Farley, to
salvage their fucked up images as "programmers", by writing the baby
program that solves this problem in its most simple form, which is two
chess pieces. It is simple enough to be done by any code monkey, and yet
involved enough to be too time-consuming to do it "by hand".

So, each of you in COLA, are you even a code monkey? Farley says you
are, but I even doubt that. I think you're just foolish little loud
mouths as far as programming is concerned. So far, only Farley has
proved himself as a real programmer.

Speaking of a computer science class, the only one I took was in Summer
1979 to learn PL/I. No other languages were being taught in that Summer.
It was actually a graduate course in computer science, so a lot of
programming knowledge in the students were assumed by the professor in
its covering of that language. But for me it was the first touch of a
programming language. Thanks god the text was excellent. A dictionary
size big black book of almost 1000 pages. That was my source really, not
what was being discussed in the classroom. My understanding of the
verbal English hadn't matured yet and I'd muss most of what the prof was
so elaborately explaining. I suspect that the aim of that course was to
prepare the students on _creating_ better languages. But the text chosen
was very comprehensive, covering every programming skill, all the
sensitive areas, all the usual mistakes, all the important concepts
associated to programming in general and in that language. I read and
understood that book from begin to end!

There was also a 13 or so year old kid in the classroom sitting with his
father, and asking most of the questions! One of those who even in
middle school knew how to program well and had a talent for it.

The course was 5 semester hours! A heck of a lot of material packed into
a month and a half Summer term.

[Stéphane CARPENTIER]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak
Thus the story continues...
How many gold coins should Holaku Khan take with him to his parties?

I'll pass. I don't know how to play chess.

That's easy to believe.

Post by Farley Flud
I think

I don't believe that.

Post by Farley Flud
So now I first gotta learn the rules of the game of bowling and
then write the program. I said: "Fuck that!" I just dropped the
course.

I believe you were unable to find the solution on Internet and found an
excuse to drop without confessing the request was beyond you capacities.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak
"In each of my parties, a session is always included in which a
chessboard is placed on the floor, with no chess pieces on it. There is
a contest, and the winner is blindfolded and given two random chess
pieces of same color - but not any pawns - out of my pocket, to place
somewhere on the chessboard by the winner, in two of the squares. Then
the blindfold is removed and the winner will look at the chessboard and
counts the number of different moves he can make with the chess pieces
from the squares that they are in. The winner will get as many gold
coins from me as that count is. If I know in advance which two pieces
will be given to the winner, I need to know how many gold coins I should
bring with me to the party, so I could never find myself with not enough
coins to give to the winner, and never carry with me even one gold coin
that would never be needed to be given to the winner. Find how many
coins I should bring with me to the party."

Looks like for the sub-"code monkeys" a bit of more explanation is due.

Holaku will give one gold coin for every different first move that the
winner can make on the board.

Example. If the two pieces happen to be two bishops, and if the
blindfolded winner happened to place one at the first square on the left
of the bottom row, and the other on the last square on the far right of
the bottom row, then winner will get 14 gold coins.

[Physfitfreak]

   "Your Majesty's wish will undoubtedly get fulfilled."

The rest of the story:

Ghotbeddin forgot that a daughter of Holaku even exists, and immediately
went home to work on the problem. Got his chessboard and placed it down
on the floor, on top of the fine Persian carpet woven in that same area,
according to Azarbayjan's styles which both colorwise and patterns were
distinct in Iran. He placed two same color pieces on the board and began
thinking...

Worked on it all night. By morning, his hopes of giving the tabulated
answers to Holaku on that morning had disappeared into thin air. It
would take some time to finish this job! So he went to bed tired and
beaten, and soon fell asleep. But shortly after he felt unusually cold.
Opened his eyes and found himself in his sleeping bag at the top of the
magic mountain!

Still remembering the dream, he stretched his hand into his backpack and
pulled out his Aspire One mini laptop dedicated to DOS, with qbasic on
it, prepared hot water to make tea, and as he gave out a good voluminous
fart he loudly said, "To you Pope The Penis X!" Then began coding the
now simple and totally under control problem. He got the answers,
tabulated them nicely, then hoped he would travel back to 13th century
next time he went to sleep, to give the table to Holaku Khan, and see
the beautiful daughter.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak

    "Your Majesty's wish will undoubtedly get fulfilled."

Ghotbeddin forgot that a daughter of Holaku even exists, and immediately
went home to work on the problem. Got his chessboard and placed it down
on the floor, on top of the fine Persian carpet woven in that same area,
according to Azarbayjan's styles which both colorwise and patterns were
distinct in Iran. He placed two same color pieces on the board and began
thinking...
Worked on it all night. By morning, his hopes of giving the tabulated
answers to Holaku on that morning had disappeared into thin air. It
would take some time to finish this job! So he went to bed tired and
beaten, and soon fell asleep. But shortly after he felt unusually cold.
Opened his eyes and found himself in his sleeping bag at the top of the
magic mountain!
Still remembering the dream, he stretched his hand into his backpack and
pulled out his Aspire One mini laptop dedicated to DOS, with qbasic on
it, prepared hot water to make tea, and as he gave out a good voluminous
fart he loudly said, "To you Pope The Penis X!" Then began coding the
now simple and totally under control problem. He got the answers,
tabulated them nicely, then hoped he would travel back to 13th century
next time he went to sleep, to give the table to Holaku Khan, and see
the beautiful daughter.

So the story continues...

Days came and passed. None of the night sleeps resulted in a dream to
take him to the 13th century with the now ready table. So at night, when
warming himself with a little fire and getting ready to go to his
sleeping bag, he thought to himself, "If I don't travel back to Maragheh
observatory tonight, I'll just burn the one page table in the fire and
forget about it."

The night became morning, and Physfit still in his sleeping bag openned
his eyes and realized something was not right. There were clouds above
him! "At this altitude?..." he asked himself. He turned his head left
and found he was looking at urban areas of Dallas, with the Reunion
Tower over there standing by downtown! Turned his head right and saw
that he was lying down in his sleeping bag at the top of a 100 yard
mountain, with his house in the view, within a short walking distance!
He quickly, before anything get changed again, got up and put on his
mountain shoes and dress, and got ready to climb down fast before the
mountain gets bigger again.

By the time he reached the ground level, it was 4:45 pm and the sun was
setting, and in another 15 minutes he was home, at his computer, going
through the news.

He read somewhere that at least half of the Americans' missiles to hit
Houthi targets would only hit the adjacent areas, not the targets
themselves, but each time Houthis lauched a missile, it came down dead
correct and hit the target. Physfit wondered about it for a few moments.

There were a few related news pieces as well. In one of them, from a
Pakestani press outlet, they explained in detail how the missiles
automatically calculated the coordinates of the target. A reconnaissance
drone beforehand would get near enough to target to see it, then using
laser would fly on a straightline towards the target and record its own
coordinates at two different points on that straight line.

Then using such information, back home, the distance of the target to
the missiles launching site would accurately get calculated. Then they'd
launch the missiles.

Everything calculated were in two dimensions only. Just height and the
distance.

If the drone calculated coordinates of the two points on that line of
sight as (x_1, y_1) and (x_2, y_2), with x being the distance and y the
height, then the distance of the target to launch area would have any of
the two forms below:

x . y - x . y
1 2 2 1
x = -----------------
y - y
2 1

or:


/x - x \ . y
\ 2 1/ 1
x = x - --------------
1 y - y
2 1


And the Americans in charge being cro-magnons (and Nazi), seeing that
one of the above formulas can be derived from the other one, were
assuming it didn't matter which one to use for calculating x-intercept
for their missiles to hit Houthis targets. But Houthis, being Modern
Humans, always chose one of the above, and never the other.

So Physfit found out why about half of American missiles narrowly miss
their targets, while Houthis missiles always hit the targets.

1- Verify that the two formulas are correct, and algebraically related.

2- Assuming the drone calculated (x_1, y_1) as (1.31, 4.76) kilometers,
and (x_2, y_2) as (1.93, 3.24) kilometers, and assuming that for
shortest computation time, numbers are rounded to three digits in the
codes imbedded in drones and missiles, then calculate the x-intercept in
both ways.

3- Explain which of the two methods is being used by the Houthis, and why.

[Farley Flud]

Post by Physfitfreak
If the drone calculated coordinates of the two points on that line of
sight as (x_1, y_1) and (x_2, y_2), with x being the distance and y the
height, then the distance of the target to launch area would have any of
x . y - x . y
1 2 2 1
x = -----------------
y - y
2 1
/x - x \ . y
\ 2 1/ 1
x = x - --------------
1 y - y
2 1
And the Americans in charge being cro-magnons (and Nazi), seeing that
one of the above formulas can be derived from the other one, were
assuming it didn't matter which one to use for calculating x-intercept
for their missiles to hit Houthis targets. But Houthis, being Modern
Humans, always chose one of the above, and never the other.
So Physfit found out why about half of American missiles narrowly miss
their targets, while Houthis missiles always hit the targets.
1- Verify that the two formulas are correct, and algebraically related.
2- Assuming the drone calculated (x_1, y_1) as (1.31, 4.76) kilometers,
and (x_2, y_2) as (1.93, 3.24) kilometers, and assuming that for
shortest computation time, numbers are rounded to three digits in the
codes imbedded in drones and missiles, then calculate the x-intercept in
both ways.
3- Explain which of the two methods is being used by the Houthis, and why.

1)

Multiply first term of second expression by 1 = (y2 - y1)/(y2 - y1):

x1 ⋅ (y2 - y1) (x2 - x1) ⋅ y1
────────────── - ──────────────
y2 - y1 y2 - y1


Combine fractions:

x1 ⋅ y2 - x1 ⋅ y1 - x2 ⋅ y1 + x1 ⋅ y1
─────────────────────────────────────
y2 - y1

Cancel terms:

x1 ⋅ y2 - x2 ⋅ y1
─────────────────
y2 - y1


They are equivalent.


2)

Using exact rational arithmetic based on the values given
(e.g. 1.31 = 131/100), the x-intercept for both expressions
is:

x = 3089/950 = 3.25

For an image of this, see this link:

https://postimg.cc/2LS0KRHr


3)

Because of potential catastrophic cancellation in distance coordinates,
the first expression is preferable due to the absence of subtraction
(i.e. x2 - x1) in the numerator. For the record:

x1 ⋅ y2 - x2 ⋅ y1
─────────────────
y2 - y1

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak
If the drone calculated coordinates of the two points on that line of
sight as (x_1, y_1) and (x_2, y_2), with x being the distance and y the
height, then the distance of the target to launch area would have any of
x . y - x . y
1 2 2 1
x = -----------------
y - y
2 1
/x - x \ . y
\ 2 1/ 1
x = x - --------------
1 y - y
2 1
And the Americans in charge being cro-magnons (and Nazi), seeing that
one of the above formulas can be derived from the other one, were
assuming it didn't matter which one to use for calculating x-intercept
for their missiles to hit Houthis targets. But Houthis, being Modern
Humans, always chose one of the above, and never the other.
So Physfit found out why about half of American missiles narrowly miss
their targets, while Houthis missiles always hit the targets.
1- Verify that the two formulas are correct, and algebraically related.
2- Assuming the drone calculated (x_1, y_1) as (1.31, 4.76) kilometers,
and (x_2, y_2) as (1.93, 3.24) kilometers, and assuming that for
shortest computation time, numbers are rounded to three digits in the
codes imbedded in drones and missiles, then calculate the x-intercept in
both ways.
3- Explain which of the two methods is being used by the Houthis, and why.

1)
x1 ⋅ (y2 - y1) (x2 - x1) ⋅ y1
────────────── - ──────────────
y2 - y1 y2 - y1
x1 ⋅ y2 - x1 ⋅ y1 - x2 ⋅ y1 + x1 ⋅ y1
─────────────────────────────────────
y2 - y1
x1 ⋅ y2 - x2 ⋅ y1
─────────────────
y2 - y1
They are equivalent.
2)
Using exact rational arithmetic based on the values given
(e.g. 1.31 = 131/100), the x-intercept for both expressions
x = 3089/950 = 3.25
https://postimg.cc/2LS0KRHr
3)
Because of potential catastrophic cancellation in distance coordinates,
the first expression is preferable due to the absence of subtraction
x1 ⋅ y2 - x2 ⋅ y1
─────────────────
y2 - y1

Hmm... But you need to show with actual numbers why in the 3rd part, one
of the expressions is better to use.

Put yourself in the shoes of a computer (inside the drones and missiles)
that rounds every number off (not just the result! But every number it
comes upon in computing the results) to keep only three significant
digits. Follow what happens from begin to end of the computation for
each expression. Then argue why one computed result is better than the
other computed result. Lot's of math lines to write, but all are needed
to see for sure why one result is better than the other.

I may have accidentally chosen the coordinate numbers that don't quite
show the difference, I don't know. I haven't solved this yet (just
concocted it last night). If that's the case, then I'll find coordinate
numbers that will show the difference.

But so far, I'm assuming just about any coordinates measured might work
to show the difference in the results of computations. So I'm asking
that you do that and show it here.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak
Put yourself in the shoes of a computer (inside the drones and missiles)
that rounds every number off (not just the result! But every number it
comes upon in computing the results) to keep only three significant
digits. Follow what happens from begin to end of the computation for
each expression. Then argue why one computed result is better than the
other computed result. Lot's of math lines to write, but all are needed
to see for sure why one result is better than the other.
I may have accidentally chosen the coordinate numbers that don't quite
show the difference, I don't know. I haven't solved this yet (just
concocted it last night). If that's the case, then I'll find coordinate
numbers that will show the difference.
But so far, I'm assuming just about any coordinates measured might work
to show the difference in the results of computations. So I'm asking
that you do that and show it here.

I shouldn't have said, "three significant digits". Significant digit
concept is somewhat different.

Ok, let's talk more accurately.

Machine numbers are in binary form. But these machine numbers can be
expressed in decimal machine numbers like:

0.d_1d_2 ... d_k x 10^n

, where d_1 digit is _not_ zero, and d_2, d_3 ... d_k digits can each be
an integer from zero to 9.

Since this example has k digits after the decimal point, it is called
k-digit decimal machine number.

The decimal machine number form is not exactly equal to the binary form
that machine handles, and the difference has to do with the machine
epsilon. But nevertheless, the two form are very closely the same number.

In this problem, I'm assuming the computers on missiles work on such
binary numbers that have 3-digit decimal machine numbers. And forget the
binary form of them, cause this problem is not about the machine
epsilon. Just assume that the computers deal with decimal machine
numbers and k=3. So for example the number

0.0033169 x 10^4

is rounded off to

0.332 x 10^2

So depending on how your code computes the two given expressons, any
time the computer handles a number, if it is not already in 3-digit
decimal machine number form, it converts it to 3-digit machine number
before using it for computations.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak
Machine numbers are in binary form. But these machine numbers can be
0.d_1d_2 ... d_k x 10^n
, where d_1 digit is _not_ zero, and d_2, d_3 ... d_k digits can each be
an integer from zero to 9.

By the way, can FriCAS show the above math expression correctly in
pretty print? Diagon cannot! At least I don't know how to use it to
write that number in the familiar way.

Diagon seems to treat each digit as a separate number, and therefore
requires a math operation inbetween them! Hehe :) What a flaw. I just
noticed it.

But perhaps friCAS is like that too.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak
If the drone calculated coordinates of the two points on that line of
sight as (x_1, y_1) and (x_2, y_2), with x being the distance and y the
height, then the distance of the target to launch area would have any of
x . y - x . y
1 2 2 1
x = -----------------
y - y
2 1
/x - x \ . y
\ 2 1/ 1
x = x - --------------
1 y - y
2 1
And the Americans in charge being cro-magnons (and Nazi), seeing that
one of the above formulas can be derived from the other one, were
assuming it didn't matter which one to use for calculating x-intercept
for their missiles to hit Houthis targets. But Houthis, being Modern
Humans, always chose one of the above, and never the other.
So Physfit found out why about half of American missiles narrowly miss
their targets, while Houthis missiles always hit the targets.
1- Verify that the two formulas are correct, and algebraically related.
2- Assuming the drone calculated (x_1, y_1) as (1.31, 4.76) kilometers,
and (x_2, y_2) as (1.93, 3.24) kilometers, and assuming that for
shortest computation time, numbers are rounded to three digits in the
codes imbedded in drones and missiles, then calculate the x-intercept in
both ways.
3- Explain which of the two methods is being used by the Houthis, and why.

1)
x1 ⋅ (y2 - y1) (x2 - x1) ⋅ y1
────────────── - ──────────────
y2 - y1 y2 - y1
x1 ⋅ y2 - x1 ⋅ y1 - x2 ⋅ y1 + x1 ⋅ y1
─────────────────────────────────────
y2 - y1
x1 ⋅ y2 - x2 ⋅ y1
─────────────────
y2 - y1
They are equivalent.
2)
Using exact rational arithmetic based on the values given
(e.g. 1.31 = 131/100), the x-intercept for both expressions
x = 3089/950 = 3.25
https://postimg.cc/2LS0KRHr
3)
Because of potential catastrophic cancellation in distance coordinates,
the first expression is preferable due to the absence of subtraction
x1 ⋅ y2 - x2 ⋅ y1
─────────────────
y2 - y1

Your reasoning is correct of course, but if you had numerically
calculated the relative errors and compared them to each other, it would
be more convincing.

The second expression, as you said, has a potential problem. If the
drone when recording its own coordinates two times, is very far from the
launch site, then x_1 and x_2 will be represented in 3-digit decimal
machine numbers by two numbers very close to each other, and their
difference when rounded produces a number with lower than 3 significant
digits. If we calculate the relative error compared to case of using
exact numbers (no rounding off), we see that it is much larger than same
relative errors for closer distances to launch site.

So, subtracting two large numbers that are very close to each other is
like asking for failure if you have it done by a machine.

But using the first expression, the closeness of the numbers x_1 and x_2
gets to a good degree ineffective because each is multiplied by the
other point's associated height _before_ subtraction is performed. So,
the difference between first and second terms in the numerator gets much
larger, causing it to lose fewer significant digits when rounded.

That's why Houthis kicked ass :-)

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak

Post by Physfitfreak
If the drone calculated coordinates of the two points on that line of
sight as (x_1, y_1) and (x_2, y_2), with x being the distance and y the
height, then the distance of the target to launch area would have any of
      x  . y  - x  . y
       1    2    2    1
x = -----------------
           y  - y
            2    1
           /x  - x \ . y
           \ 2    1/    1
x = x  - --------------
       1       y  - y
                2    1
And the Americans in charge being cro-magnons (and Nazi), seeing that
one of the above formulas can be derived from the other one, were
assuming it didn't matter which one to use for calculating x-intercept
for their missiles to hit Houthis targets. But Houthis, being Modern
Humans, always chose one of the above, and never the other.
So Physfit found out why about half of American missiles narrowly miss
their targets, while Houthis missiles always hit the targets.
1- Verify that the two formulas are correct, and algebraically related.
2- Assuming the drone calculated (x_1, y_1) as (1.31, 4.76) kilometers,
and (x_2, y_2) as (1.93, 3.24) kilometers, and assuming that for
shortest computation time, numbers are rounded to three digits in the
codes imbedded in drones and missiles, then calculate the x-intercept in
both ways.
3- Explain which of the two methods is being used by the Houthis, and why.

1)
x1 ⋅ (y2 - y1)   (x2 - x1) ⋅ y1
────────────── - ──────────────
     y2 - y1          y2 - y1
x1 ⋅ y2 - x1 ⋅ y1 - x2 ⋅ y1 + x1 ⋅ y1
─────────────────────────────────────
                y2 - y1
x1 ⋅ y2 - x2 ⋅ y1
─────────────────
      y2 - y1
They are equivalent.
2)
Using exact rational arithmetic based on the values given
(e.g. 1.31 = 131/100), the x-intercept for both expressions
x = 3089/950 = 3.25
https://postimg.cc/2LS0KRHr
3)
Because of potential catastrophic cancellation in distance coordinates,
the first expression is preferable due to the absence of subtraction
x1 ⋅ y2 - x2 ⋅ y1
─────────────────
      y2 - y1

Your reasoning is correct of course, but if you had numerically
calculated the relative errors and compared them to each other, it would
be more convincing.
The second expression, as you said, has a potential problem. If the
drone when recording its own coordinates two times, is very far from the
launch site, then x_1 and x_2 will be represented in 3-digit decimal
machine numbers by two numbers very close to each other, and their
difference when rounded produces a number with lower than 3 significant
digits. If we calculate the relative error compared to case of using
exact numbers (no rounding off), we see that it is much larger than same
relative errors for closer distances to launch site.
So, subtracting two large numbers that are very close to each other is
like asking for failure if you have it done by a machine.
But using the first expression, the closeness of the numbers x_1 and x_2
gets to a good degree ineffective because each is multiplied by the
other point's associated height _before_ subtraction is performed. So,
the difference between first and second terms in the numerator gets much
larger, causing it to lose fewer significant digits when rounded.
That's why Houthis kicked ass :-)

The error in computation of second expression is bad enough when two
large and very close numbers are subtracted. In this particular case
this error is yet magnified by a factor of y_1 ... making it much larger.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak
And the Americans in charge being cro-magnons (and Nazi), seeing that
one of the above formulas can be derived from the other one, were
assuming it didn't matter which one to use for calculating x-intercept
for their missiles to hit Houthis targets. But Houthis, being Modern
Humans, always chose one of the above, and never the other.
So Physfit found out why about half of American missiles narrowly miss
their targets, while Houthis missiles always hit the targets.

Suddenly Physfit heard a loud scream. Opened his eyes and realized one
of the male cats had surprized the other. It was calm again. He turned
his face left and tried to read the time from the pendulum clock on the
wall without eyeglasses.

Whatever the time was, it was too early to get up; this much, he could
discern from it. So Physfit made himself comfortable and let himself
dive back into sleep.

But something wasn't right.

He noticed he was only _thinking_ that he was in bed, while actually,
when he'd look around him, it was obvious that he was lying down on the
back seat of his car. So he sat up and looked through the windows and
... although for some reason it felt familiar, he could not recognize
exactly where he was. The car was parked inside a restaurant, it seemed,
with tables and chairs and a few people blabbering nonsense and eating
junk food. Why did that place feel familiar?

Physfit had just turned around to check the place some more, when he
realized who it was that was sitting all by himself at a table. There
could be no mistake. He was Pope The Penis X.

And on the ground, in front of the Pope, just three feet from his fat
feet, was RonB in prostration posture, flat on the ground with hands
stretched sidewise like a cross. In absolute submission. Worse than
that, The Pope's penis was hanging out! ...

"Enough of this crap," said Physfit to himself, and walked over to an
available table and sat down. Two monkeys were up there close to the
ceiling sitting by themselves, hand in hand, lauching at people down
around the tables.

"So this is COLA; I'm _inside_ it now, there's RonB flat on the floor,
The Jack Mormon and DFS up there hand in hand, laughing and screaming.
Where is Joel? ..."

A fly the size of the text character % was buzzing around a table in a
darker area of the restaurant. "That must be %", Physfit said to
himself, "and that's where Joel could be sitting as well."

A couple of strangers where here and there too, and other than these
people there were no one else in the shop.

Then a Garson appeared, walking with an inflated sense of
self-importance toward Physfit's table, and asked him what he would like
to have. Phyisfit said "strong coffee, no sugar", and as he looked up
and saw the Garson, he immediately realized who this fellow was. It was
that "true American" fellow, complete with a towel on his forearm, and
saddle-shaped spectator shoes. So before it was too late, Physfit
quickly changed his mind and said, "Never mind, I'm not having anything
today." He wouldn't know what crap the "true American" would add to his
coffee back inside the kitchen before serving it to him.

Physfit pulled his notebook out and opened it. Went for the last entry.
There they were, the two numbers in base e, to be added together. He had
presented the challenge earlier in the day for COLA frequenters when he
was outside of cyberspace, but having nothing better to do for the
moment, he went ahead and calculated the result in 14 significant digits.

What was the result he got, if the two numbers in base e were 2122 and
1212 ?

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak
Physfit pulled his notebook out and opened it. Went for the last entry.
There they were, the two numbers in base e, to be added together. He had
presented the challenge earlier in the day for COLA frequenters when he
was outside of cyberspace, but having nothing better to do for the
moment, he went ahead and calculated the result in 14 significant digits.

He closed and put his notebook back in his blue jean's backpocket, then
thought to himself, "How the hell do I get out of here and go home?...
Where the hell is this place located?" But he knew it must not be that
far from home cause he'd driven to here somehow, and he almost never
takes long trips. Perhaps getting outside and taking a look would help,
he thought. So he stood up and got ready to walk outside.

By now Pope The Penis X was on his feet, penis hanging out, and slowly
moving towards the opening of the restaurant from which an intense flood
of white light was pouring in. RonB was still flat on the ground, but
was now holding on to one of the Pope's ankles with both hands, and was
getting dragged along as the Pope slowly moved.

"What a repulsive, nauseating, 'true American' scene :( ... " Physfit
thought to himself. "45 fucking years of it and it's not anywhere close
to over. Fucking cro-magnons. Even AUSCHWITZ took only 4 years! _INANE_
fucking early human idiots, still walking the face of the Earth... "

As soon as Physfit began walking towards the entrance, one of the
monkeys up there screamed and jumped down and began running around the
shop howling and screeching while holding a piece of paper up. When the
monkey passed by Physfit, he noticed that there was a swastika band
around the monkey's left arm too!

"Now that's something that's not going to escape history," he said to
himself.

At last one of the COLA peers that Physfit didn't know well stood up and
stopped the monkey and snatched the piece of paper and began reading it.
The monkey was now jumping up and down panting while waiting for the
guy's reaction. A couple of others walked over to take a look as well.
The guy began reading the script from the paper for everyone to hear:

"Founder of the GuhNoo project Richard Stallman: 'necrophilia,
bestiality, possession of child pornography, and even
incest and pedophilia... should be legal as long as no one is coerced.'"

People there began muttering in disapproval. Physfit got curious and
stopped to think for a moment. Then confident why Stallman had said
that, he kicked the monkey out of his way and went outside. Area being
flat as fuck, he spotted the peculiar summit of the magic mountain from
afar and walked back to his car and drove the relatively short distance
home.

Why did Stallman say that?

[Lester Thorpe]

Post by Physfitfreak
Why did Stallman say that?

I can't speak for the great Dr. Richard Stallman but I can
deliver some worthwhile observations.

Western society (i.e. USA/Europe) has gone backwards. Even
though such sexual indicators such as the age of menarche have
fallen in the West, the age of consent has paradoxically
increased.

Oh yes. A lot of girls at the age of 10 years can actually
become pregnant -- and that alone should define the age
of consent.

Unfortunately, the sexual maturity of males lags behind that
of females. The consequence of this is that some (a lot?)
of 10-year-old girls actually seek and seduce older men.
IOW, the older man does not seduce the 10-year-old girl,
but the 10-year-old-girl seduces the older man.

The fact is undeniable but the prudish West ignores the
truth and enacts insane legislation that defines the end
of childhood to be 18 years. Holy moley! Thus, a girl
who is 17 years, 11 months, 30 days, 11 hours, and 59 minutes
is still a fucking child! (And you'll be put in prison if
you get caught fucking that bitch.)

Hell, I was sexually active when I was 11-12. I remember
playing "spin the bottle" with a bunch of 6th-graders.
But most kids know how to keep a secret. So "child"
fucking goes on and is quite rampant everywhere.

The great Dr. Richard Stallman only states the obvious that
every progressive human understands.

Only the repressed prudes will screech like monkeys.

[Athel Cornish-Bowden]

Post by Lester Thorpe

Post by Physfitfreak
Why did Stallman say that?

I can't speak for the great Dr. Richard Stallman but I can
deliver some worthwhile observations.
Western society (i.e. USA/Europe) has gone backwards. Even
though such sexual indicators such as the age of menarche have
fallen in the West, the age of consent has paradoxically
increased.
Oh yes. A lot of girls at the age of 10 years can actually
become pregnant -- and that alone should define the age
of consent.

Nonsense

Post by Lester Thorpe
Unfortunately, the sexual maturity of males lags behind that
of females. The consequence of this is that some (a lot?)
of 10-year-old girls actually seek and seduce older men.

Wishful thinking

Post by Lester Thorpe
IOW, the older man does not seduce the 10-year-old girl,
but the 10-year-old-girl seduces the older man.

Wishful thinking

Post by Lester Thorpe
The fact is undeniable

Says who?

Post by Lester Thorpe
but the prudish West ignores the
truth and enacts insane legislation that defines the end
of childhood to be 18 years. Holy moley! Thus, a girl
who is 17 years, 11 months, 30 days, 11 hours, and 59 minutes
is still a fucking child! (And you'll be put in prison if
you get caught fucking that bitch.)
Hell, I was sexually active when I was 11-12. I remember
playing "spin the bottle" with a bunch of 6th-graders.
But most kids know how to keep a secret. So "child"
fucking goes on and is quite rampant everywhere.
The great Dr. Richard Stallman only states the obvious that
every progressive human understands.
Only the repressed prudes will screech like monkeys.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Lester Thorpe

Post by Physfitfreak
Why did Stallman say that?

I can't speak for the great Dr. Richard Stallman but I can
deliver some worthwhile observations.
Western society (i.e. USA/Europe) has gone backwards. Even
though such sexual indicators such as the age of menarche have
fallen in the West, the age of consent has paradoxically
increased.
Oh yes. A lot of girls at the age of 10 years can actually
become pregnant -- and that alone should define the age
of consent.
Unfortunately, the sexual maturity of males lags behind that
of females. The consequence of this is that some (a lot?)
of 10-year-old girls actually seek and seduce older men.
IOW, the older man does not seduce the 10-year-old girl,
but the 10-year-old-girl seduces the older man.
The fact is undeniable but the prudish West ignores the
truth and enacts insane legislation that defines the end
of childhood to be 18 years. Holy moley! Thus, a girl
who is 17 years, 11 months, 30 days, 11 hours, and 59 minutes
is still a fucking child! (And you'll be put in prison if
you get caught fucking that bitch.)
Hell, I was sexually active when I was 11-12. I remember
playing "spin the bottle" with a bunch of 6th-graders.
But most kids know how to keep a secret. So "child"
fucking goes on and is quite rampant everywhere.
The great Dr. Richard Stallman only states the obvious that
every progressive human understands.
Only the repressed prudes will screech like monkeys.

No. At least I'm confident Stallman didn't mean that.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak
eople there began muttering in disapproval. Physfit got curious and
stopped to think for a moment. Then confident why Stallman had said
that, he kicked the monkey out of his way and went outside. Area being
flat as fuck, he spotted the peculiar summit of the magic mountain from
afar and walked back to his car and drove the relatively short distance
home.

Parked the car somewhere convenient to jump back in, cause you never
know when the cats food supplies may need replenishment. Then just as he
approached the portico to get in, the postman hailed behind him, "Dr.
M... you have the IRS mail you had inquired about earlier."

"This 'Dr.' crap again," Physfit said to himself, "he must've seen that
funny prefix on some of the mail I rarely get from the alumni association."

Physfit signed for the certified letter and took it inside. Cleared the
cat-accessible desk from the cats, sat down and openned it right away
cause when IRS contacts you with certified mail, there's a clusterfuck
somewhere.

Huh! ...

So what does Physfit see in the IRS letter? The letter goes like this:


"Since you Mr. ... are Iran-backed, the tax you paid for year 2023,
under the newly enacted law, will have to be calculated as:

new 2023 tax = (old 2023 tax)^100

You have 90 days to pay the amount due. If you have any questions, you
can call IRS at 1-800-382-1871.

'In god we trust, and Jewish dick, we suck.'
- Book of Mormon, Penis X, 7:14"


... So the bill that those pervert criminals in the government had
recently passed into law to fit the beastly desires of the now dumbed
down Americans, had kicked in.

"Let me just for laughs see what the amount comes to", said Physfit to
himself. The qbasic computer screen was still on since the night before.
He sat down and typed:

oldTax = 6822
newTAX = (oldTAX)**100
print, "new tax is now = "; newTAX

and he hit F5.

An error message comes up saying, "Error 3407." He looked it up via the
other computer and found that there was actually a diagnostic software
written just for causes of that error. He downloaded the software and
copied it to jump drive and ran it on the troubled computer. A message
came up saying, "Cannot diagnose. The central processing unit can only
perform 8 multiplications."

"Zepeleshk!..." (Iranian term for something funny and yet gross)

He looked at the back of the computer and there it was, all the
telltales of cats having urinated inside the computer through the
ventilation mesh. He turned to the computer itself as if it is a person,
and told it, "So how the hell are you supposed to raise a number to the
power of 100?"

"Hmm... let's see!" he said, and began thinking. In about one minute he
changed and rewrote the above qbasic code and had the dysfunctional cpu
compute the power of 100 by only 8 multiplications.

What was the new code?

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak

Post by Physfitfreak
eople there began muttering in disapproval. Physfit got curious and
stopped to think for a moment. Then confident why Stallman had said
that, he kicked the monkey out of his way and went outside. Area being
flat as fuck, he spotted the peculiar summit of the magic mountain
from afar and walked back to his car and drove the relatively short
distance home.

Parked the car somewhere convenient to jump back in, cause you never
know when the cats food supplies may need replenishment. Then just as he
approached the portico to get in, the postman hailed behind him, "Dr.
M... you have the IRS mail you had inquired about earlier."
"This 'Dr.' crap again," Physfit said to himself, "he must've seen that
funny prefix on some of the mail I rarely get from the alumni association."
Physfit signed for the certified letter and took it inside. Cleared the
cat-accessible desk from the cats, sat down and openned it right away
cause when IRS contacts you with certified mail, there's a clusterfuck
somewhere.
Huh! ...
   "Since you Mr. ... are Iran-backed, the tax you paid for year 2023,
        new 2023 tax = (old 2023 tax)^100
You have 90 days to pay the amount due. If you have any questions, you
can call IRS at 1-800-382-1871.
                 'In god we trust, and Jewish dick, we suck.'
                          - Book of Mormon, Penis X, 7:14"
... So the bill that those pervert criminals in the government had
recently passed into law to fit the beastly desires of the now dumbed
down Americans, had kicked in.
"Let me just for laughs see what the amount comes to", said Physfit to
himself. The qbasic computer screen was still on since the night before.
oldTax = 6822
newTAX = (oldTAX)**100
print, "new tax is now = "; newTAX
and he hit F5.
An error message comes up saying, "Error 3407." He looked it up via the
other computer and found that there was actually a diagnostic software
written just for causes of that error. He downloaded the software and
copied it to jump drive and ran it on the troubled computer. A message
came up saying, "Cannot diagnose. The central processing unit can only
perform 8 multiplications."
"Zepeleshk!..." (Iranian term for something funny and yet gross)
He looked at the back of the computer and there it was, all the
telltales of cats having urinated inside the computer through the
ventilation mesh. He turned to the computer itself as if it is a person,
and told it, "So how the hell are you supposed to raise a number to the
power of 100?"
"Hmm... let's see!" he said, and began thinking. In about one minute he
changed and rewrote the above qbasic code and had the dysfunctional cpu
compute the power of 100 by only 8 multiplications.
What was the new code?

So he did get the new tax amount after all, but the amount was so huge
that he began cursing. Not once, and not twice, but he kept cursing for
a minute straight until he suddenly saw an opening on the ceiling was
formed and light began to pour in and Jesus descended from heaven into
his living room.

Not giving a damn to such bullshit, Physfit continued cursing, but Jesus
removed a cat hair from his white attire and came closer and placed his
right hand on Physfit's left shoulder, and said:

Jesus: "Oh you poor Iran-backed man, I was also Iran-backed and see
what those savage cro-magnons did to me. Is the injustice done to you of
the same severity?"

Physfit: "Are you kidding me? I'll blow their fucking heads off before
they come to crucify me. This is Texas, not your fucking Jerusalem."

Jesus: "If I don't curse - and I didn't - shouldn't you also stop
cursing?"

Physfit: "Hmm ... yes perhaps I shouldn't curse. But I picked this
American habit gradually over 45 years. I used to be told in my earlier
years, why I didn't ever curse. But now, not that easy to break this
habit."

Jesus: "If I wish so, it is easy. I ordain that you only have 200 more
curses left to utter."

Physfit looked at Jesus (he looked like... Arafat!) and said, "Is that
to be for the rest of my life?" Jesus nodded.

Physfit thought a bit, then said, "I have been saying an exact number of
curses per day as therapy to manage life. I'd rather reduce that number
gradually. Otherwise I might kill somebody."

Jesus: "You will curse today as usual. From tomorrow, you will begin
saying 7 curses fewer than the day before, everyday, until you are left
with just one curse to utter. And you will never utter that curse."

Physfit: "Fair enough."


How many times a day was Physfit cursing before meeting Jesus?

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak
So he did get the new tax amount after all, but the amount was so huge
that he began cursing. Not once, and not twice, but he kept cursing for
a minute straight until he suddenly saw an opening on the ceiling was
formed and light began to pour in and Jesus descended from heaven into
his living room.
Not giving a damn to such bullshit, Physfit continued cursing, but Jesus
removed a cat hair from his white attire and came closer and placed his
Jesus:   "Oh you poor Iran-backed man, I was also Iran-backed and see
what those savage cro-magnons did to me. Is the injustice done to you of
the same severity?"
Physfit:  "Are you kidding me? I'll blow their fucking heads off before
they come to crucify me. This is Texas, not your fucking Jerusalem."
Jesus:    "If I don't curse - and I didn't - shouldn't you also stop
cursing?"
Physfit:  "Hmm ... yes perhaps I shouldn't curse. But I picked this
American habit gradually over 45 years. I used to be told in my earlier
years, why I didn't ever curse. But now, not that easy to break this
habit."
Jesus: "If I wish so, it is easy. I ordain that you only have 200 more
curses left to utter."
Physfit looked at Jesus (he looked like... Arafat!) and said, "Is that
to be for the rest of my life?" Jesus nodded.
Physfit thought a bit, then said, "I have been saying an exact number of
curses per day as therapy to manage life. I'd rather reduce that number
gradually. Otherwise I might kill somebody."
Jesus:   "You will curse today as usual. From tomorrow, you will begin
saying 7 curses fewer than the day before, everyday, until you are left
with just one curse to utter. And you will never utter that curse."
Physfit:  "Fair enough."

Then, swoooooooshhshsh!.... and Jesus and all that intense light went
back up and out of there. Physfit looked up up and there wasn't even an
opening in the ceiling anymore. But now for some reason he was
horizontally on the floor, in his bed. Right in the living room!

He thought a bit about what was happening, when he found himself quite
hungry. Last time he had eaten anything was the night before he had
waken up on the summit of the magic mountain in an urban Dallas area.

He thought to himself, "I'm going to assume that more than 48 hours has
passed since. So got up and walked to kitchen and took a look inside the
refrigerator. There was nothing there but the cat food he had cooked on
the day he first saw the magic mountain. He got on the computer to order
something zesty from HelloFresh. After choosing the closest to a healthy
nice pre-agricultural food kit, he clicked, "Go to checkout" button,
after which the computer waited for a few seconds but instead of getting
to the check out screen, a screen came up to make sure Physfit was not a
robot. It had a simple question that he had to give it the correct
answer, otherwise food nommo.

The question went like this:

"In math, is there a difference between the two numbers 0.999999...
and 1 ?"

The digits of "9" continued forever to the right of the radix point. So
of course, Physfit clicked on the "yes" button. If there was not a
difference, then one wouldn't even bother to write 1 in that funky form,
using an infinite series of digit 9.

But the screen disappeared, and a message said, "You're a robot. Bye!"

Physfit said, "Fuck!" (first of the fix number of curses Jesus had
allowed him for that day). So he took a pen and paper and started
jotting down:

x = 0.99999....

Therefore:

10x = 9.99999....

Now he subtracted the former from the latter:

10x - x = 9.99999... - 0.99999...

Which simplifies to:

9x = 9

And therefore:

x = 1

"What the fuck??", said Physfit (his 2nd curse of the day).


Why x which was 0.99999... and not 1, turned out to be 1?

[Kuang Tze Kui]

Post by Physfitfreak
Then, swoooooooshhshsh!.... and Jesus and all that intense light went
back up and out of there. Physfit looked up up and there wasn't even an
opening in the ceiling anymore. But now for some reason he was
horizontally on the floor, in his bed. Right in the living room!

me friendo, you are 𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗿. Or less. hERE is fucking criminal amrica, still
committing 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗲_𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 in Iraq.

𝗧𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗿_𝗖𝗮𝗿𝗹𝘀𝗼𝗻_𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀_𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴_𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻_𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁_𝗠𝗼𝘀𝗰𝗼𝘄_𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗽_(𝗩𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗢)
The journalist claims the US spied on him as he tried to interview Edward
Snowden
https://r%74.com/news/593283-tucker-carlson-snowden-spying/

I think we all knew it, kind of childish of him saying he wasn’t expecting
the US to spying on him.

The CIA and NSA hopefully will see a court Like the Gestapo and SS and the
same punishment , all of them any member. Fingers crossed.

Slava Tucker

The old good USA is now as the worst communist country, monitoring,
banning, surveillance, persecution of reporters, even people started to
run away in opposite direction, toward Russia and other countries. That is
the sign for the system in the USA, that maybe the days are numbered for
them, so they are trying with tight grip, the tribe in the USA started to
lose control over the world and in the USA.

What a nightmare world the United States is, when pieces of trash like
Tucker Carlson are the greatest examples of freedom of the press…

Maybe Mr Tucker Carlson shares the 175 years in jail with Assange, back in
USA :) Ridiculous

they say china is bad it monitors its people lol americans are indeed
funny creatures, ruled by corrupted 𝗱𝘂𝗮𝗹_𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝙠𝙝𝙖𝙯𝙖𝙧_𝙜𝙤𝙮𝙨. Why the fuck
you need 𝗱𝘂𝗮𝗹_𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽, in a parliament, if you are not deepen corrupted.
Fascist 𝗹𝗶𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹_𝗰𝗮𝗽𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗺 corrupted. You are 𝗮_𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴_𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗼𝗿 to your people and
your country.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak
"What the fuck??", said Physfit (his 2nd curse of the day).

Physfit turned the computer off, then unplugged it from the wall so
creepy power leakages wouldn't mess with his ATI FirePro graphics card
and the power supply on his computer in some mysterious way to make them
do funky stuff on the screen. His cat pees sprayed inside the monitor
from behind, as well as on the screen and down from there to the lower
bezel, seeping inside had ruined enough of pixels to bother him; he
didn't wish to get intermittent black screens on top of it as well.

So he sat back and thought what he'd like to eat. There wasn't that much
starch on Long John Silver's fish fillets, plus he loved their coleslaw
if the quality was still like last time he was there, i.e. in his young
days, when he never cursed. So he jumped inside the car and drove off.

The closest one was about 7 miles away. He used to dine in one of them
before each school exam in his young days (when he never cursed), so had
kind of a fond memory of those days and this type of dish.

Of course he'd skip the french fries and those fried balls, whatever
their funky names were. "Ahah!.. 'Hush Puppies.' Fucking names these
Americans choose; (3rd curse of the day) and Jesus wants me not to curse
at them. How preposterous. How fucking preposterous." (4th curse of the
day) Physfit complained.

"No wonder these same Americans are now bombing those same people in
Ghaza from which their Jesus had appeared." Physfit continued.

"When you're kind to these savages, you end up getting bombed by them
even if you're their FUCKING JESUS!" (5th curse)

"Hush Puppies!... Motherfucking cro-magnons." (6th curse)

"I'll get more coleslaw instead." He thought.

Got there and drove into the drive-thru, and looked at the menu board to
see what his eyes will spontaneously fall on, now after almost 40 years.

"Hmm... what the fuck?..." (7th) "Why all the prices are expressed in
repeating decimals? ..." He chose the one with three fillets anyway and
ordered it, and drove further in and at the window noticed the employee
was carrying a smartphone looking gadget on which she jotted something
then told him, "$18 if you want it as meal, and $13 as only the fillets."

Physfit asked, "How did you come up with those prices? I couldn't figure
them out at the menu board." She said, "There is a little software on
this device that converts repeating decimals to a ratio of two whole
numbers, the denominator is the price of the meal, the numerator the
price of the fillets without other items that come in the meal."

Physfit replied, "Then the two numbers better be the fully reduced ones
down to their smallest numbers." She replied, "Oh, of course."

Physfit paid for the three fillets and a large side of coleslaw and
turned around and began driving home. While driving, he thought to
himself, "I better write that code myself for next time's Long John
Silver's excursion. This shit smells too good." (8th) "Plus how can I
know they're telling the truth about the ratio being fully reduced."

What was the code that he needed to write?

[Farley Flud]

Post by Physfitfreak
Physfit paid for the three fillets and a large side of coleslaw and
turned around and began driving home. While driving, he thought to
himself, "I better write that code myself for next time's Long John
Silver's excursion. This shit smells too good." (8th) "Plus how can I
know they're telling the truth about the ratio being fully reduced."
What was the code that he needed to write?

Laziness is the mother of invention.

I am supremely lazy.

Fuck that code writing shit. I use Maxima/wxMaxima:

bftorat:true;

Decimal with 96 repeating digits

rat(0.010309278350515463917525773195876288659793814432989690721649484536082474226804123711340206185567);

1/97

Check:

bfloat(1/97); /* gives 128 digits */

1.0309278350515463917525773195876288659793814432989690721649484536082474226804123711340206185567010309278350515463917525773195876b-2


You're taking in too much mercury from that cheap fish.

[Physfitfreak]

But "DFS" could also do that. We're trying to see who's better than a
"DFS".

Write the code. Then post it :) You'll enjoy the heck out of it. I did
that eons back.

[Farley Flud]

Post by Physfitfreak
But "DFS" could also do that.

No he could not. He wouldn't know where to even begin.

Post by Physfitfreak
We're trying to see who's better than a
"DFS".

A girl scout, a trained chimpanzee, and AI (not necessarily in
that order) are better than the DuFuS Supremus.

Post by Physfitfreak
Write the code. Then post it :) You'll enjoy the heck out of it. I did
that eons back.

I do not want to denigrate your problem. It is an interesting and
important example.

But I am doing a lot of other things at the moment and this problem
has solutions all over the web.

You should explore the many facilities of Computer Algebra Systems (CAS)
like Maxima and FriCAS. They have astounding capabilities.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak
But "DFS" could also do that.

No he could not. He wouldn't know where to even begin.

Post by Physfitfreak
We're trying to see who's better than a
"DFS".

A girl scout, a trained chimpanzee, and AI (not necessarily in
that order) are better than the DuFuS Supremus.

Post by Physfitfreak
Write the code. Then post it :) You'll enjoy the heck out of it. I did
that eons back.

I do not want to denigrate your problem. It is an interesting and
important example.
But I am doing a lot of other things at the moment and this problem
has solutions all over the web.
You should explore the many facilities of Computer Algebra Systems (CAS)
like Maxima and FriCAS. They have astounding capabilities.

I do like such facilities, but I enjoy more what little I can code myself.

Yes, COLA is not the right place to post such coding baby problems. It
is really seeping into COLA from the physics forum. And it's now turned
into a blog of its own.

[Farley Flud]

Post by Physfitfreak
I do like such facilities, but I enjoy more what little I can code myself.

As I indicated somewhere else before, unless one is a highly trained
numerical analyst one can get into serious trouble when programming
math routines.

It is best to stick to proven math packages.

Check out the GNU Scientific Library:

http://www.gnu.org/software/gsl/

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak
I do like such facilities, but I enjoy more what little I can code myself.

As I indicated somewhere else before, unless one is a highly trained
numerical analyst one can get into serious trouble when programming
math routines.
It is best to stick to proven math packages.
http://www.gnu.org/software/gsl/

It's not like I'm doing anything mission-critical with it :)

[rbowman]

Post by Physfitfreak
It's not like I'm doing anything mission-critical with it

No lunar landers? That must have been a real clown show when they
realized their ranging module wasn't working and they tried to use LIDAR
data to save the day.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by rbowman

Post by Physfitfreak
It's not like I'm doing anything mission-critical with it

No lunar landers? That must have been a real clown show when they
realized their ranging module wasn't working and they tried to use LIDAR
data to save the day.

Are you talking about Odysseus?

[rbowman]

Post by Physfitfreak
Are you talking about Odysseus?

Yes.

https://www.cnn.com/us/live-news/nasa-odysseus-moon-landing-intuitive-
machines-scn/index.html

https://www.sciencealert.com/the-odysseus-moon-lander-is-tipped-over-but-
why

You have to patch together the two articles.

"It wasn't easy: Mission managers discovered during a pre-landing maneuver
that a safety lock on Odysseus's laser range-finding system hadn't been
disengaged prior to the probe's Feb. 15 launch. That rendered the system
inoperable."

"Fortunately, NASA — which considers itself one of many customers on this
mission — had an experimental instrument already on board Odysseus that
could be swapped in to make up for the malfunctioning equipment.

Engineers were able to bypass Odysseus' broken pieces and land using two
lasers that are part of NASA's Navigation Doppler Lidar, or NDL, payload."

The LIDAR module saved the day but it still came in a little hot and
moving sideways.

"Fortunately, Crain and other mission team members figured out a way to
reprogram Odysseus to make use of an experimental laser range-finding
system that was included among NASA's payloads.

"In normal software development for spacecraft, this is the kind of thing
that would have taken a month of writing down the math, cross-checking it
with your colleagues, doing some simple calculations to prove the theory
by putting it into a simulation, running that simulation 10,000 times
evaluating performance," Crain said.

"Our team basically did that in an hour and a half. And it worked."

Sometimes you have to skip all the theoretical math and fly by the seat of
your parts. Fart wins again.

[Farley Flud]

Post by Physfitfreak
Yes, COLA is not the right place to post such coding baby problems. It
is really seeping into COLA from the physics forum. And it's now turned
into a blog of its own.

COLA is the appropriate forum as long as such code uses GNU/Linux tools,
which are the best in the world.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak
Yes, COLA is not the right place to post such coding baby problems. It
is really seeping into COLA from the physics forum. And it's now turned
into a blog of its own.

COLA is the appropriate forum as long as such code uses GNU/Linux tools,
which are the best in the world.

I am still waiting to overcome a few government-related retirement
hurdles before embarking on using Linux.

I'm sure I'll have a lot of questions when that happens. So I'm not
dumping COLA even now with Win10 on my machine.

[Stéphane CARPENTIER]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak
Write the code. Then post it :) You'll enjoy the heck out of it. I did
that eons back.

I do not want to denigrate your problem. It is an interesting and
important example.

I guess I know what will follow.

Post by Farley Flud
But I am doing a lot of other things at the moment

I win. It wasn't difficult. Let me guess what you are doing. Running
away from a chalenge you didn't start? Trying to find the solution on
Internet? Compiling your system? Fixing you system?

Post by Farley Flud
and this problem has solutions all over the web.

Yes, I guess it's easier to find the code on Internet before launching a
chalenge than finding the code to answer other's chalenges.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Stéphane CARPENTIER
Yes, I guess it's easier to find the code on Internet before launching a
chalenge than finding the code to answer other's chalenges.

Hmm... You blabber too much for someone who couldn't do any of the
challenge baby problems.

[Dowell Forgács Barabás]

Post by Stéphane CARPENTIER

Post by Farley Flud
But I am doing a lot of other things at the moment

I win. It wasn't difficult. Let me guess what you are doing. Running
away from a chalenge you didn't start? Trying to find the solution on
Internet? Compiling your system? Fixing you system?

indeed, thanks. You are great.

https://th%65%70%65%6f%70%6c%65%73%76oice.tv/

𝗠𝗮𝗿𝗸_𝗭𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗿𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗴_𝗕𝘂𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴_𝗨𝗽_𝗚𝗼𝗹𝗱_𝗥𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝘀_𝗔𝘀_𝗛𝗲_𝗣𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀_𝗧𝗼_𝗙𝗹𝗲𝗲_𝘁𝗼_𝗗𝗼𝗼𝗺𝘀𝗱𝗮𝘆_𝗕𝘂𝗻𝗸𝗲𝗿:
“𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴_𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗕𝗟𝗘_𝗜𝘀_𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴”
Mark Zuckerberg is frantically buying gold and preparing to flee with his
family to a doomsday bunker, according to reports. Jonathan Rose, the CEO
of Genesis Gold Group in Beverly Hills, California, says many of the
globalist elites […]

𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝗲_𝗚𝗼𝘃’𝘁_𝗢𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀_𝗗𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻_𝗼𝗳_𝗔𝗟𝗟_𝗖𝗢𝗩𝗜𝗗_𝗗𝗮𝘁𝗮
The Chinese government has demanded a nationwide purge of all COVID-19
data within its healthcare system in order to erase any incriminating
evidence that proves the pandemic was bioengineered. A source from
Changsha, Hunan, who […]

𝗕𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘀𝗵_𝗚𝗼𝘃’𝘁_𝗕𝗼𝗺𝗯𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗹:_‘𝗢𝗻𝗲_𝗕𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗼𝗻_𝗩𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱_𝗣𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲_𝗡𝗼𝘄_𝗛𝗮𝘃𝗲_𝗔𝗜𝗗𝗦’
An official British study has confirmed that over one billion people
worldwide now have Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome (VAIDS) as a direct
result of taking the mRNA Covid jab. According to a group of scientists
[…]

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱’𝘀_𝗧𝗼𝗽_𝗠𝗼𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗮𝗿_𝗕𝗶𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗶𝘀𝘁_𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝘀_𝗼𝗳_‘𝗦𝗺𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴_𝗚𝘂𝗻’_𝗘𝘃𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲
𝗖𝗢𝗩𝗜𝗗_𝗪𝗮𝘀_𝗕𝗶𝗼𝗲𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱_𝗯𝘆_‘𝗗𝗲𝗲𝗽_𝗦𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗲’
One of the world’s top molecular biologist’s has warned of “smoking gun”
evidence that the COVID-19 pandemic was deliberately engineered by the
‘Deep State’ in order to depopulate the planet. Richard H. Ebright, Ph.D.,
is […]

𝗠𝗲𝗹_𝗚𝗶𝗯𝘀𝗼𝗻:_𝗚𝗹𝗼𝗯𝗮𝗹_𝗘𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀_𝗪𝗶𝗹𝗹_𝗞𝗲𝗲𝗽_𝗗𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴_𝗧𝗼_𝗠𝗮𝗸𝗲_𝗪𝗮𝘆_𝗙𝗼𝗿_𝗧𝗵𝗲_𝗔𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁
High-ranking global elites will continue dying in unprecedented numbers
according to Mel Gibson who warns that the season of Illuminati blood
sacrifices has arrived, and the old guard of the global elite are in the
[…]

𝗚𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗻_𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿_𝗦𝗮𝘆𝘀_𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗿𝘆’𝘀_𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲_𝗦𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗺_𝗠𝘂𝘀𝘁_𝗕𝗲_𝗣𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗱_𝗙𝗼𝗿_𝗪𝗮𝗿
The German Ministry of Health is preparing for war conditions. Health
Minister Karl Lauterbach has said that the healthcare system must be
prepared to respond swiftly to crisis situations like future pandemics or
a military […]

𝗗𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗰𝗿𝗮𝘁𝘀_𝗧𝗼_𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲_𝗧𝗮𝘅-𝗙𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱_‘𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱_𝗦𝗲𝘅_𝗗𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘀’_𝗳𝗼𝗿_𝗣𝗲𝗱𝗼𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀
Democrat lawmakers have proposed introducing tax-funded ‘child sex dolls’
for pedophiles as a way to discourage them from raping children. State
Senator Karen Berg in her argument before the Kentucky legislature refused
to use the “offensive” term […]

𝗪𝗘𝗙:_‘𝗕𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀_𝗼𝗳_𝗨𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀_𝗛𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻𝘀_𝗪𝗶𝗹𝗹_𝗕𝗲_𝗞𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱_𝗮𝗻𝗱_𝗥𝗲𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲𝗱_𝗪𝗶𝘁𝗵_𝗔𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘀_𝗮𝗻𝗱_𝗔𝗹𝗴𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗺𝘀’
Klaus Schwab has declared that billions of “useless humans” will soon be
replaced with avatars and algorithms after they are killed. Speaking at a
World Economic Forum session in September 2022, Schwab told Global Shapers
[…]

𝗖𝗢𝗩𝗜𝗗_𝗡𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲_𝗦𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘀_𝘁𝗵𝗲_𝗔𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗺:_“𝗺𝗥𝗡𝗔_𝗩𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀_𝗔𝗿𝗲_𝗗𝗲𝗽𝗼𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻_𝗗𝗿𝘂𝗴𝘀”
After being fired for refusing to follow her hospital’s vaccine mandate, a
California nurse has decided to sound the alarm about the millions of
deaths linked to the Covid mRNA vaccines. Gail Macrae, an ICU […]

[Stéphane CARPENTIER]

Post by Physfitfreak
But "DFS" could also do that. We're trying to see who's better than a
"DFS".

I don't know who's better than DFS. But it has already been proven here:
neither you nor the joke you are replying to.

Post by Physfitfreak
Write the code.

He won't. Maybe he will find it on Internet, but clearly, he won't.

Post by Physfitfreak
Then post it

That, he can, but only after finding it on Internet.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Stéphane CARPENTIER

Post by Physfitfreak
But "DFS" could also do that. We're trying to see who's better than a
"DFS".

neither you nor the joke you are replying to.

Post by Physfitfreak
Write the code.

He won't. Maybe he will find it on Internet, but clearly, he won't.

Post by Physfitfreak
Then post it

That, he can, but only after finding it on Internet.

As I said, you're just Farley's groupie.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Stéphane CARPENTIER
I don't know who's better than DFS.

You must've missed my post. My dick is.

[Stéphane CARPENTIER]

Post by Physfitfreak
My dick is.

You should try to find your brain and its manual for a change.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Stéphane CARPENTIER

Post by Physfitfreak
My dick is.

You should try to find your brain and its manual for a change.

If you have a brain (and not cpu's) solve some of the baby problems I
posed.

[Stéphane CARPENTIER]

Post by Physfitfreak

Post by Stéphane CARPENTIER

Post by Physfitfreak
My dick is.

You should try to find your brain and its manual for a change.

If you have a brain (and not cpu's) solve some of the baby problems I
posed.

I don't care about your dick, I don't care about your problems, I don't
care about your too long uninteresting messages and I do what I want. So
no.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Stéphane CARPENTIER

Post by Physfitfreak

Post by Stéphane CARPENTIER

Post by Physfitfreak
My dick is.

You should try to find your brain and its manual for a change.

If you have a brain (and not cpu's) solve some of the baby problems I
posed.

I don't care about your dick, I don't care about your problems, I don't
care about your too long uninteresting messages and I do what I want. So
no.

That's how you say you're my dick's groupie.

[Farley Flud]

Post by Physfitfreak
This shit smells too good." (8th) "Plus how can I
know they're telling the truth about the ratio being fully reduced."

Which of the following ratios can be expressed as a terminating,
i.e. non-repeating, decimal expansion:

1/14901161193847656250

1/37252902384619140625

Explain.

[Farley Flud]

Post by Farley Flud
Which of the following ratios can be expressed as a terminating,
1/14901161193847656250
1/37252902384619140625
Explain.

No one will get this because it's not coding but mathematics.

I'll give the answer.

A rational number can be expressed as a terminating decimal
only if the denominator can be factored using the prime factors
of the base, which in this case is 10.

The prime factors of 10 are 2 and 5.


We use Maxima to find the prime factors of 14901161193847656250:

ifactors(14901161193847656250);

[[2,1],[5,27]] = 2 * 5^27

Thus 1/14901161193847656250 is a terminating decimal.

bfloat(1/14901161193847656250);

6.7108864b-20



What about 37252902384619140625?

ifactors(37252902384619140625);

[[5,11],[7,1],[47297,1],[2304403,1]] = 5^11 * 7 * 47297 * 2304403

Thus, 1/37252902384619140625 will not terminate but will be a
repeating decimal.

What is this repeating decimal?

Using GNU bc:

echo "scale=100000; 1/37252902384619140625" | bc > bc.txt

The file "bc.txt" will contain 100,000 decimal places of the decimal
expansion. So far there is no repetition to be seen.

Therefore, the repetition must occur after close to 100,000 decimal
places and maybe a whole lot more. Maybe trillions. Maybe more
yet.

The point is that no simple code can handle such problems.

Mathematics must be used.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Farley Flud
Which of the following ratios can be expressed as a terminating,
1/14901161193847656250
1/37252902384619140625
Explain.

No one will get this because it's not coding but mathematics.
I'll give the answer.
A rational number can be expressed as a terminating decimal
only if the denominator can be factored using the prime factors
of the base, which in this case is 10.
The prime factors of 10 are 2 and 5.
ifactors(14901161193847656250);
[[2,1],[5,27]] = 2 * 5^27
Thus 1/14901161193847656250 is a terminating decimal.
bfloat(1/14901161193847656250);
6.7108864b-20
What about 37252902384619140625?
ifactors(37252902384619140625);
[[5,11],[7,1],[47297,1],[2304403,1]] = 5^11 * 7 * 47297 * 2304403
Thus, 1/37252902384619140625 will not terminate but will be a
repeating decimal.
What is this repeating decimal?
echo "scale=100000; 1/37252902384619140625" | bc > bc.txt
The file "bc.txt" will contain 100,000 decimal places of the decimal
expansion. So far there is no repetition to be seen.
Therefore, the repetition must occur after close to 100,000 decimal
places and maybe a whole lot more. Maybe trillions. Maybe more
yet.
The point is that no simple code can handle such problems.
Mathematics must be used.

What the fuck :) I just spent half hour solving the problem without any
"Maxima" and now I see you had posted the answer anyway.

That's sadism :-))

[Chris Ahlstrom]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak
This shit smells too good." (8th) "Plus how can I
know they're telling the truth about the ratio being fully reduced."

Which of the following ratios can be expressed as a terminating,
1/14901161193847656250
1/37252902384619140625
Explain.

This bit of esoterica is a waste of time for non-esotericist.

Heh:

[Farley Flud]

Post by Chris Ahlstrom
This bit of esoterica is a waste of time for non-esotericist.

Nope.

Innumeracy is even worse than illiteracy within the human,
and American, population.

Most adults can only speak, write, and calculate like little
children.

And that includes most "programmers" who "earn" a six-figure
salary.

[rbowman]

Post by Chris Ahlstrom
This bit of esoterica is a waste of time for non-esotericist.

Nope.
Innumeracy is even worse than illiteracy within the human, and American,
population.
Most adults can only speak, write, and calculate like little children.
And that includes most "programmers" who "earn" a six-figure salary.

Meanwhile Farley Flud lives in his parents' basement and survives on ramen
purchased with his EBT card...

[Physfitfreak]

Post by rbowman

Post by Chris Ahlstrom
This bit of esoterica is a waste of time for non-esotericist.

Nope.
Innumeracy is even worse than illiteracy within the human, and American,
population.
Most adults can only speak, write, and calculate like little children.
And that includes most "programmers" who "earn" a six-figure salary.

Meanwhile Farley Flud lives in his parents' basement and survives on ramen
purchased with his EBT card...

And the engineers making such six-figure salaries continue to live their
entire lives inside equivalent of fart :-)

A thousand years from now, your entire life's worth of endeavor will be
exactly where Farley's fart today, will be. While the two numbers and
their properties that he pointed at and posted today, will still be
there like king :)

[rbowman]

Post by Physfitfreak
A thousand years from now, your entire life's worth of endeavor will be
exactly where Farley's fart today, will be. While the two numbers and
their properties that he pointed at and posted today, will still be
there like king

Your whole human constructed reality doesn't mean shit to a tree, nor will
it to the prevailing life form in 1000 years, the cockroach.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by rbowman

Post by Physfitfreak
A thousand years from now, your entire life's worth of endeavor will be
exactly where Farley's fart today, will be. While the two numbers and
their properties that he pointed at and posted today, will still be
there like king

http://youtu.be/d7epbdQ4YYI
Your whole human constructed reality doesn't mean shit to a tree, nor will
it to the prevailing life form in 1000 years, the cockroach.

That will be so in parts of Montana that American Natives ate the
cro-magnon population down to naught. In Iran of that day, we'll still
be reading that Modern Human, Gould's numerous intelligent and exciting
books; just as now, that we're reading thoughtful works of Iranians of a
thousand years back.

There is fart, and there is physics. Nothing else. You chose your place,
and I chose mine. Two different species of humans.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak
This shit smells too good." (8th) "Plus how can I
know they're telling the truth about the ratio being fully reduced."

Which of the following ratios can be expressed as a terminating,
1/14901161193847656250
1/37252902384619140625
Explain.

For first fraction we have:

1/14901161193847656250 = 1/{2[5^(27)]} = [2^(26)]/[(10)^(27)] so
obviously has terminating decimals.


For second fraction, denominator is divisible by 7, a prime other than 2
or 5, therefore the decimal representation of the fraction does not
terminate.

Note that in general you can write the decimals as sum of fractions with
powers of 10 in the denominators of them. If you replace those 10s by 2
x 5 then you can convert that decimal number to a fraction with nothing
in its denominator but factors of 2 and 5 _only_. Since this holds for
any fraction with terminating decimal, then all you need to show to
prove the fraction does not have terminating decimals is to show that a
prime other than 2 or 5 is also a factor in the denominator.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak
Note that in general you can write the decimals as sum of fractions with
powers of 10 in the denominators of them. If you replace those 10s by 2
x 5 then you can convert that decimal number to a fraction with nothing
in its denominator but factors of 2 and 5 _only_. Since this holds for
any fraction with terminating decimal, then all you need to show to
prove the fraction does not have terminating decimals is to show that a
prime other than 2 or 5 is also a factor in the denominator.

I missed one logical step. Here is a better explanation.

Any fraction can be written as a number with decimals that either
terminate, or continue for ever.

But _if_ the fraction has terminating decimals, then the number can be
written as a _finite_ sum of fractions with various powers of 10 in
their denominators. Like for instance:

11/8 = 1.375 = 1/[(10)^0] + 3/[(10)^1] + 7/[(10)^2] + 5/[(10)^3]

= 1 + 3/(2 x 5) + 7/(2^2 x 5^2) + 5/(2^3 x 5^3)

Now add these fractions. You place the greatest common divisor which is
(2^3 x 5^3) in the denominator of the resultant fraction, and use the
elementary method of adding the fractions to get:

denominator of the result = (2^3 x 5^3)
numerator of the result = (2^3 x 5^3) + 3(2^2 x 5^2) + 7(2 x 5) + 5

So, as you see, for a fraction with terminating decimals you would
_only_ have powers of 2 and/or 5 in the denominator, plus the fraction
will be exactly equal to what it first was (in this case reducing to 11/8).

But with a fraction with non-terminating decimals, say 11/6, you would have:

11/6 = 1.8333333333... = 1/[(10)^0] + 8/[(10)^1] + 3/[(10)^2] +
3/[(10)^3] + ...

So you can't trivially get the greatest common divisor for it so you
could sum the fractions. To be able to make the sum, you can do this:

11/6 = 1/[(10)^0] + 8/[(10)^1] + 3/(90)

Now you'd be able to perform the sum:

denominator of the result = 90 = 2 x 5 x 3 x 3
numerator of the result = 90 + 72 + 3 = 165

and as you see, the denominator now has had to have prime number(s)
other than 2 or 5.

So this check can be used to easily find whether 11/6 has terminating or
non-terminating decimals:

denominator = 2 x 3

and since the prime 3 appears there, the fraction will have
non-terminating decimals.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak

Post by Physfitfreak
Note that in general you can write the decimals as sum of fractions
with powers of 10 in the denominators of them. If you replace those
10s by 2 x 5 then you can convert that decimal number to a fraction
with nothing in its denominator but factors of 2 and 5 _only_. Since
this holds for any fraction with terminating decimal, then all you
need to show to prove the fraction does not have terminating decimals
is to show that a prime other than 2 or 5 is also a factor in the
denominator.

I missed one logical step. Here is a better explanation.
Any fraction can be written as a number with decimals that either
terminate, or continue for ever.
But _if_ the fraction has terminating decimals, then the number can be
written as a _finite_ sum of fractions with various powers of 10 in
11/8 = 1.375 = 1/[(10)^0] + 3/[(10)^1] + 7/[(10)^2] + 5/[(10)^3]
     = 1 + 3/(2 x 5) + 7/(2^2 x 5^2) + 5/(2^3 x 5^3)
Now add these fractions. You place the greatest common divisor which is
(2^3 x 5^3) in the denominator of the resultant fraction, and use the
    denominator of the result = (2^3 x 5^3)
    numerator of the result = (2^3 x 5^3) + 3(2^2 x 5^2) + 7(2 x 5) + 5
So, as you see, for a fraction with terminating decimals you would
_only_ have powers of 2 and/or 5 in the denominator, plus the fraction
will be exactly equal to what it first was (in this case reducing to 11/8).
11/6 = 1.8333333333... = 1/[(10)^0] + 8/[(10)^1] + 3/[(10)^2] +
3/[(10)^3] + ...
So you can't trivially get the greatest common divisor for it so you
11/6 = 1/[(10)^0] + 8/[(10)^1] + 3/(90)
     denominator of the result = 90 = 2 x 5 x 3 x 3
     numerator of the result  = 90 + 72 + 3 = 165
and as you see, the denominator now has had to have prime number(s)
other than 2 or 5.
So this check can be used to easily find whether 11/6 has terminating or
denominator = 2 x 3
and since the prime 3 appears there, the fraction will have
non-terminating decimals.

I don't know about you cro-magnons, but the numerical methods class we
had here 40 years back, briefly went over this trivial matter, cause it
was one of the cases where we had to check whether we should deal, or
not deal, with the machine epsilon in our codes.

And generally, we learned in that course, to not take things for granted
as it were presented to you. You'd have to be more careful with it.

An "engineer" would just throw the code at any computer and stick his
dick in it as well. Us physicists couldn't afford that :-)

[Farley Flud]

Post by Physfitfreak
I don't know about you cro-magnons, but the numerical methods class we
had here 40 years back, briefly went over this trivial matter, cause it
was one of the cases where we had to check whether we should deal, or
not deal, with the machine epsilon in our codes.

Machine epsilon, although highly important for routine matters, has
been obviated lately with multi-precision libraries.

For GNU/Linux (and thus the rest of the world), the main MP libraries
are GMP and MPFR:

https://gmplib.org/

https://www.mpfr.org/

These libraries can handle precision up to the limits of machine MEMORY.
They are truly limitless ans are used by FOSS CAS.

Note that Microslop plays no role here. Major commercial software will
use GMP and MPFR and tell Microslop to kiss off.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak
I don't know about you cro-magnons, but the numerical methods class we
had here 40 years back, briefly went over this trivial matter, cause it
was one of the cases where we had to check whether we should deal, or
not deal, with the machine epsilon in our codes.

Machine epsilon, although highly important for routine matters, has
been obviated lately with multi-precision libraries.
For GNU/Linux (and thus the rest of the world), the main MP libraries
https://gmplib.org/
https://www.mpfr.org/
These libraries can handle precision up to the limits of machine MEMORY.
They are truly limitless ans are used by FOSS CAS.
Note that Microslop plays no role here. Major commercial software will
use GMP and MPFR and tell Microslop to kiss off.

That's impressive.

Are their source codes only good for Linux?

[rbowman]

Post by Physfitfreak
Are their source codes only good for Linux?

https://github.com/emphasis87/libmpfr-msys2-mingw64

Good luck. MSYS2/MINGW64 differ from Cygwin in that they build native
packages rather than depending on the Cygwin dll.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak
Physfit paid for the three fillets and a large side of coleslaw and
turned around and began driving home. While driving, he thought to
himself, "I better write that code myself for next time's Long John
Silver's excursion. This shit smells too good." (8th) "Plus how can I
know they're telling the truth about the ratio being fully reduced."
What was the code that he needed to write?

Physfit got home, glanced at the pendulum clock on the wall, he'd made
it just in time to get his fish fillets; it was late. Plugged the power
cord, which always, for some funky reason, turns the computer on
automatically, telling him something is going on about electricity and
his computer that involves power getting to stuff it weren't supposed to.

Took the cats to another room where he'd built a loose wooden device to
block the clearing space underneath the door of that room, so cats
couldn't squeeze under and get out.

Sat at the computer desk and began eating the fillets and the coleslaw,
almost exactly after 40 years, again!

Nothing much had changed. Especially with their special vinegar sauce
included, it brought some of the good memories back, making him smile as
he ate.

Screen came up. He clicked on the curly fox icon, and COLA came up.
Devouring the last part of the last fillet, he thought to himself,

"Look at all those no-good cro-magnons... They're still arguing Tampons
and Biden... No wonder Pope The Penis X is their idol of morality as
well as thought! ... Fucking morons." And he clicked the software closed
exactly like he'd throw a piece of dried booger away.

"Damn, no more coleslaw... as big as the size I ordered was, it's still
so good it finishes as the fillets disappear. Yep, there will be a next
time, so..." He turned the computer off and unplugged the power from the
wall. Got the cats out to look for the source of that good smell all
over the place.

Sat back at his desk, and stretched his hand into his mountain climbing
backpack down underneath his desk, and pulled out his Aspire One mini
laptop dedicated to DOS, with qBASIC on it, and placed it on the desk
right in front of him. Fired it up. Then he got up again to prepare hot
water for tea.

When tea was ready, he gave out a good voluminous and loud fart as he
exclaimed, "To you COLA bitches of Pope The Penis X!", and sat down and
began thinking on how to code the conversion of repeated decimals back
to the most reduced fraction.

In about half hour he had the code, tested and working. He loved it,
just as he'd done with his first ever useful coding he'd created eons
back. Copied it to a USB jump drive to transfer it to his main computer
for sending to COLA, now that none of those little cro-magnons could do
that when he challenged them with it, while he was in the other layer of
cyberspace.

When COLA came up this time, he saw that "-hh" had a response to
something he'd commented. Knowing in advance it'd just be another waste
of time, he unenthusiastically opened the message and read it:

-hh: "Since you, Physfit, are my groupie and usually beg for my
attention, I find it surprising that you now appear indifferent to my
presence. In fact, I've come to realize that your efforts to engage with
me have ceased to exist, and I've been met with an unexpected coldness
in someone who always begs for my attention. Despite your attempts to
bridge the gap, my unresponsiveness must've left you feeling somewhat
perplexed."

On reading that crap, Physfit took the second "h" from the hh's name,
made it upside down, then banged it hard against the first "h" in the
name; causing the entire name turn into the number "1".

A few moments passed... The entire COLA was as they all are, as good as
dead; but not that surprisingly one of them noticed:

Farley: "Woooowwww!.... FUCK!... What the fuck happened? What did you
do with him? ... Where's hh?..."

Physfit: "You're the math guy here. You tell me."

Farley: "hh was just standing here like fuck! What did you fucking do
with him?"

Physfit: "I turned him into a number, the number 1"

Farley: "What the fuck! Get that bitch back! ... FUCK! He's a Linux
guy! Get that Mofo back!..."

Physfit: "Easier said than done. You know how math is about this. But
you can seek comfort in the fact that it couldn't happen if he was like
others in COLA, and that's, as good as zero. He must've been a nonzero
entity of some sort."


What property of Algebra did Physfit use to turn that insolent COLA
frequenter into the number "1"?

[-hh]

Post by Physfitfreak

Post by Physfitfreak
Physfit paid for the three fillets and a large side of coleslaw and
turned around and began driving home. While driving, he thought to
himself, "I better write that code myself for next time's Long John
Silver's excursion. This shit smells too good." (8th) "Plus how can I
know they're telling the truth about the ratio being fully reduced."
What was the code that he needed to write?

Physfit got home, glanced at the pendulum clock on the wall, he'd made
it just in time to get his fish fillets; it was late. Plugged the power
cord, which always, for some funky reason, turns the computer on
automatically, telling him something is going on about electricity and
his computer that involves power getting to stuff it weren't supposed to.
Took the cats to another room where he'd built a loose wooden device to
block the clearing space underneath the door of that room, so cats
couldn't squeeze under and get out.
Sat at the computer desk and began eating the fillets and the coleslaw,
almost exactly after 40 years, again!
Nothing much had changed. Especially with their special vinegar sauce
included, it brought some of the good memories back, making him smile as
he ate.
Screen came up. He clicked on the curly fox icon, and COLA came up.
Devouring the last part of the last fillet, he thought to himself,
"Look at all those no-good cro-magnons... They're still arguing Tampons
and Biden... No wonder Pope The Penis X is their idol of morality as
well as thought! ... Fucking morons." And he clicked the software closed
exactly like he'd throw a piece of dried booger away.
"Damn, no more coleslaw... as big as the size I ordered was, it's still
so good it finishes as the fillets disappear. Yep, there will be a next
time, so..." He turned the computer off and unplugged the power from the
wall. Got the cats out to look for the source of that good smell all
over the place.
Sat back at his desk, and stretched his hand into his mountain climbing
backpack down underneath his desk, and pulled out his Aspire One mini
laptop dedicated to DOS, with qBASIC on it, and placed it on the desk
right in front of him. Fired it up. Then he got up again to prepare hot
water for tea.
When tea was ready, he gave out a good voluminous and loud fart as he
exclaimed, "To you COLA bitches of Pope The Penis X!", and sat down and
began thinking on how to code the conversion of repeated decimals back
to the most reduced fraction.
In about half hour he had the code, tested and working. He loved it,
just as he'd done with his first ever useful coding he'd created eons
back. Copied it to a USB jump drive to transfer it to his main computer
for sending to COLA, now that none of those little cro-magnons could do
that when he challenged them with it, while he was in the other layer of
cyberspace.
When COLA came up this time, he saw that "-hh" had a response to
something he'd commented. Knowing in advance it'd just be another waste
-hh: "Since you, Physfit, are my groupie and usually beg for my
attention, I find it surprising that you now appear indifferent to my
presence. In fact, I've come to realize that your efforts to engage with
me have ceased to exist, and I've been met with an unexpected coldness
in someone who always begs for my attention. Despite your attempts to
bridge the gap, my unresponsiveness must've left you feeling somewhat
perplexed."
On reading that crap, Physfit took the second "h" from the hh's name,
made it upside down, then banged it hard against the first "h" in the
name; causing the entire name turn into the number "1".
A few moments passed... The entire COLA was as they all are, as good as
Farley: "Woooowwww!.... FUCK!... What the fuck happened? What did you
do with him? ... Where's hh?..."
Physfit: "You're the math guy here. You tell me."
Farley: "hh was just standing here like fuck! What did you fucking do
with him?"
Physfit: "I turned him into a number, the number 1"
Farley: "What the fuck! Get that bitch back! ... FUCK! He's a Linux
guy! Get that Mofo back!..."
Physfit: "Easier said than done. You know how math is about this. But
you can seek comfort in the fact that it couldn't happen if he was like
others in COLA, and that's, as good as zero. He must've been a nonzero
entity of some sort."
What property of Algebra did Physfit use to turn that insolent COLA
frequenter into the number "1"?

Golly, my very own ‘Hero worship ‘ subthread.

Living rent free…

…and gosh, including a cross post into <sci.physics> where I’m not even a
poster. That really gobsmacks of butt-hurt!



-hh

[Farley Flud]

Post by Physfitfreak
On reading that crap, Physfit took the second "h" from the hh's name,
made it upside down, then banged it hard against the first "h" in the
name; causing the entire name turn into the number "1".
What property of Algebra did Physfit use to turn that insolent COLA
frequenter into the number "1"?

Word problems cannot adequately convey mathematical rigor, but...

Turning it "upside down" could be forming the "multiplicative
inverse:" 1/h.

Then, h * 1/h = 1, which is true for all numbers except 0.

That's just my guess.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak
On reading that crap, Physfit took the second "h" from the hh's name,
made it upside down, then banged it hard against the first "h" in the
name; causing the entire name turn into the number "1".
What property of Algebra did Physfit use to turn that insolent COLA
frequenter into the number "1"?

Word problems cannot adequately convey mathematical rigor, but...
Turning it "upside down" could be forming the "multiplicative
inverse:" 1/h.
Then, h * 1/h = 1, which is true for all numbers except 0.
That's just my guess.

:-)) ...

So how the hell are we going to get him back now. Hahhahhahh :)

He's already begun talking like a "1" would.

You can't try going the opposite way. From 1 back to the other side of
the equal sign will get you anything and anyone non-zero in the world,
not necessarily the hh :) So how the hell can it be done. Is there a way?

[Physfitfreak]

Post by -hh

Post by Physfitfreak

Post by Physfitfreak
Physfit paid for the three fillets and a large side of coleslaw and
turned around and began driving home. While driving, he thought to
himself, "I better write that code myself for next time's Long John
Silver's excursion. This shit smells too good." (8th) "Plus how can I
know they're telling the truth about the ratio being fully reduced."
What was the code that he needed to write?

Physfit got home, glanced at the pendulum clock on the wall, he'd made
it just in time to get his fish fillets; it was late. Plugged the power
cord, which always, for some funky reason, turns the computer on
automatically, telling him something is going on about electricity and
his computer that involves power getting to stuff it weren't supposed to.
Took the cats to another room where he'd built a loose wooden device to
block the clearing space underneath the door of that room, so cats
couldn't squeeze under and get out.
Sat at the computer desk and began eating the fillets and the coleslaw,
almost exactly after 40 years, again!
Nothing much had changed. Especially with their special vinegar sauce
included, it brought some of the good memories back, making him smile as
he ate.
Screen came up. He clicked on the curly fox icon, and COLA came up.
Devouring the last part of the last fillet, he thought to himself,
"Look at all those no-good cro-magnons... They're still arguing Tampons
and Biden... No wonder Pope The Penis X is their idol of morality as
well as thought! ... Fucking morons." And he clicked the software closed
exactly like he'd throw a piece of dried booger away.
"Damn, no more coleslaw... as big as the size I ordered was, it's still
so good it finishes as the fillets disappear. Yep, there will be a next
time, so..." He turned the computer off and unplugged the power from the
wall. Got the cats out to look for the source of that good smell all
over the place.
Sat back at his desk, and stretched his hand into his mountain climbing
backpack down underneath his desk, and pulled out his Aspire One mini
laptop dedicated to DOS, with qBASIC on it, and placed it on the desk
right in front of him. Fired it up. Then he got up again to prepare hot
water for tea.
When tea was ready, he gave out a good voluminous and loud fart as he
exclaimed, "To you COLA bitches of Pope The Penis X!", and sat down and
began thinking on how to code the conversion of repeated decimals back
to the most reduced fraction.
In about half hour he had the code, tested and working. He loved it,
just as he'd done with his first ever useful coding he'd created eons
back. Copied it to a USB jump drive to transfer it to his main computer
for sending to COLA, now that none of those little cro-magnons could do
that when he challenged them with it, while he was in the other layer of
cyberspace.
When COLA came up this time, he saw that "-hh" had a response to
something he'd commented. Knowing in advance it'd just be another waste
-hh: "Since you, Physfit, are my groupie and usually beg for my
attention, I find it surprising that you now appear indifferent to my
presence. In fact, I've come to realize that your efforts to engage with
me have ceased to exist, and I've been met with an unexpected coldness
in someone who always begs for my attention. Despite your attempts to
bridge the gap, my unresponsiveness must've left you feeling somewhat
perplexed."
On reading that crap, Physfit took the second "h" from the hh's name,
made it upside down, then banged it hard against the first "h" in the
name; causing the entire name turn into the number "1".
A few moments passed... The entire COLA was as they all are, as good as
Farley: "Woooowwww!.... FUCK!... What the fuck happened? What did you
do with him? ... Where's hh?..."
Physfit: "You're the math guy here. You tell me."
Farley: "hh was just standing here like fuck! What did you fucking do
with him?"
Physfit: "I turned him into a number, the number 1"
Farley: "What the fuck! Get that bitch back! ... FUCK! He's a Linux
guy! Get that Mofo back!..."
Physfit: "Easier said than done. You know how math is about this. But
you can seek comfort in the fact that it couldn't happen if he was like
others in COLA, and that's, as good as zero. He must've been a nonzero
entity of some sort."
What property of Algebra did Physfit use to turn that insolent COLA
frequenter into the number "1"?

Golly, my very own ‘Hero worship ‘ subthread.
Living rent free…
…and gosh, including a cross post into <sci.physics> where I’m not even a
poster. That really gobsmacks of butt-hurt!
-hh

I opened your message to see your solution to the challenge question.
But ... you're just talking like a "1" from now :)

[Physfitfreak]

Farley:   "What the fuck! Get that bitch back! ... FUCK! He's a Linux
guy! Get that Mofo back!..."
Physfit:  "Easier said than done. You know how math is about this. But
you can seek comfort in the fact that it couldn't happen if he was like
others in COLA, and that's, as good as zero. He must've been a nonzero
entity of some sort."

Farley put his both hands on his head and began searching for a way in
math to get hh back out of that algebraically horrible destiny.

Farley: "... FUCK! ... FUCK! .... He sometimes defended GNU/Linux :-(("

Physfit: "If he exists at all now, he may begin learning enough algebra
to find a way out himself."

Farley: "What fucking way out? There's no fucking way out. If you force
the 1 into the other side of the equal sign, what are you going to
fucking do if two Saddam Husseins pop out instead, one standing there
looking at you like fuck, the other hanging in there upside down? :-(((( "
Physfit: "Oh you've got a good point _there_ :-)))) "

Farley: "Math doesn't fucking deal with time. You're the fucking
physicist, make the 1 go backward in time or some shit. It might be the
only way to get that bitch back out of infinite other probabilities... "

Physfit: "Hmm... physics can help here indeed, but I don't do anything
in COLA other than what my dick wants. My dick is in charge here, and it
is not good enough to do physics at that level. I am!"

Farley: "Then you do the physics of it."

Physfit: "Huh, your Physfit _never_ does physics without getting paid
for it first, with good money too, like physicists deserve. And I tell
you with confidence that none of you in COLA can afford such money."

Farley: "They say hh is rich. How about him - I mean his estate now -
pay you the money?"

Physfit: "How about that, indeed?"

Joel: "They won't pay. I've asked hh and his family before for money
and the suckers are tight as fucking Scots. Don't even dream of that."

Physfit: "Joel, you want hh back too?"

Joel: "Doesn't matter one way or another for me. But it's nice to
rescue him from algebra regardless."

Physfit: "As far as I'm concerned, it won't happen if you want me to use
my physics background. Why don't you ask your 'engineers' here to do
that for you."

Farley: "Fuck those engineers! They can't even rescue their own fucking
dicks. They're just a bunch of Code Monkey wannabes."

Physfit: "I have to admit it's true. I was hoping otherwise though, but.."

Farley: "Ask your dick, man. May be it can find a way!"

Physfit: "Hmm ... Good point. Let me let my dick think a bit...."

Everybody in COLA got silent, looking at Physfit with much anticipation.

After about about 30 seconds, Physfit lifted his chin up and asked COLA
to bring two h letters for him. Farley immediately ran back somewhere,
then came right back with two h letters (making sure they're both
Liberation fonts) and handed them to Physfit.

Physfit took the two h's, placed them together, turned one upside down,
put a dot between them, then placed that expression inside brackets and
put the bracket carefully and slowly to the left of that proverbial,
making sure it doesn't touch it. Then he carefully placed an equal sign
to the left of the whole thing.

Physfit then reached his back pocket and produced a needle-nose pliers
and began squeezing the brackets and its contents, vertically downward,
thus reducing the height of them. He then went over it once more,
pressing every part of it so hard that the height of the expression
became short enough for its left side tip to be inserted inside the
right side opening of the equal sign.

Physfit then inhaled a deep breath. Exhaled. then took his water bottle
on the desk and drank a couple of gulps. He then turned towards COLA
gang and burped a short but loud one. The entire COLA was still watching
in awe, silently looking at him, with anticipation...

Physfit, now, grabbed the thin horizontal bracket expression, which now
looked more like a short line than a written math piece, and inserted
the left tip of it inside the right end of the equal sign, with the rest
of the expression hanging out on right hand side. He then used the side
of the pliers to carefully hammer it leftward into the equal sign as far
as it could go. Result was that the left tip of it began sticking out
from the left end of the equal sign, and into the potentially dangerous
area left of the equal sign.

He then removed the lonely 1 from the right side and held it
horizontally and used it to press the expression inside the equal sign
leftward until the expression dropped out of the equal sign into the
left side of the equation. He then carefully, anticipating something,
put the 1 back on the right side of equation.

POP!...As soon as physfit placed the 1 on the right side, the bracket
expression on the left popped to its normal size!... Physfit wasted no
time to remove the 1 and the equal sign both from the equation and
quickly threw them away. He then made the 1/h once more upside down and
removed the dot between the two h's.

Nothing happened...

COLA was silently looking hard at this... Even % was there, peeping at
what was going on, for the lack of space via the spacing between the two
legs of Joel.

Still nothing happened, until Physfit brought his face closer to the
"hh" sitting in there and said, kind of loudly, "AUSCHWITZ!", and
suddenly hh himself popped out! He looked around and saw Farley looking
at him with wide eyes.

hh: "Farley, I love you!"

Farley: "Liberation rulez, man."

hh then turned the other side and saw Physfit.

hh: "I still see no sign of that citation!"

Farley: "Shut the fuck up! Quiet! Don't cause something else fucking
happen to you. Idiot!"

hh: "Ok, Farley. By the way, I love you!"

Farley thought to himself, "Ahh fuck. Perhaps I shouldn't have changed
the fucking font."

After some commotion between the COLA gang, Physfit thought to himself,
"Hmm... so my dick could do it after all." Farley, thinking of the same
thing said,

Farley: "Wow, your dick did it, man."

Physfit: "It sure did. My dick handles anything in COLA. Any doubts? Ask
Carpentier for that."

Carpentier: "No! I never say your dick can do anything! No!"

Farley: "Well sure, but that's a fucking good approval for that shit."

hh: "Farley, I love you!"

Farley: "Ahh fuck!... Stop that shit. Just be non-abusing and respectful
to me."

hh: "Ok Farley. I so love you though."

Physfit clicked the Thunderbird closed.

[Chris Ahlstrom]

*yawn*

Take a hit off your hookah and relax.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Chris Ahlstrom
*yawn*
Take a hit off your hookah and relax.

This blog is for the enthusiasts, not dorks. You aren't welcome in it.
Sorry to disappoint you though.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak

Post by Chris Ahlstrom
*yawn*
Take a hit off your hookah and relax.

This blog is for the enthusiasts, not dorks. You aren't welcome in it.
Sorry to disappoint you though.

Or perhaps I should make good use of that...

Read on!

[Chris Ahlstrom]

Post by Physfitfreak

Post by Chris Ahlstrom
*yawn*
Take a hit off your hookah and relax.

This blog is for the enthusiasts, not dorks. You aren't welcome in it.
Sorry to disappoint you though.

Too bad! :-D

[Relf]

hh: "Yes, 'DetroitsFinest', I love you."
This email has been checked for viruses by Avast antivirus software.

Nice. </Sarcasm>

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak
Farley: "Ahh fuck!... Stop that shit. Just be non-abusing and respectful
to me."
hh:     "Ok Farley. I so love you though."
Physfit clicked the Thunderbird closed.

He clicked it open again to see whether it'll take him into another
layer of cyberspace. It didn't. Farley was still there arguing with hh
to shut up.

Physfit: "It's out of hh's control, Farley. He's being what he is now."

Farley: "And he won't fucking be what he is now!"

Farley placed the gallon Carlo Rossi down and began striding toward hh.

hh: "No!... Farley, no!...I lov...."

Farley took the second h in hh's name and turned it upside down, and
this time around placed a dot between them too for good measure, then
placed the whole thing between his second premolar teeth and squeezed on
it.

Snap!... he took the 1 out and placed it on the table and walked back to
his table.

Farley: "Science and math are repeatable, you motherfuckers. We'll get
a better hh out this time."

Physfit: "My dick is not going to mess with that crap again."

Farley: "No need for that. I'll do it myself."

He walked back somewhere and appeared with two h letters of a different
font. Held them up and turn back and forth to show them to COLA, then
placed them on the table away from where the proverbial 1 was.

COLA moved close to watch again, except RonB, who kept sitting there
looking away from it all. Last, % appeared too, from somewhere, and got
right behind Joel, trying to peep in.

Farley knew what to do. He placed the h's adjacent to each other, turned
the second one upside down, then placed a bracket around them, lifted
the expression and carefully put it just to the left of the 1, making
sure it doesn't touch it. Then put an equal sign to the left of the
whole thing. He then went back to his table, took the gallon Carlo Rossi
up and downed 5 good-sized gulps from it, then put the bottle down and
firmly walked back to hh's table.

Having no needle-nose pliers with him, and tired of always asking
Physfit for everything, he lifted the bracket and began squeezing its
height down with his first, second, and third molar teeth repeatedly and
back and forth until it turned into a jagged thin line, pretty uneven,
but thin enough to pass through the equal sign. Placed the "line" back
where the bracket was.

He then took a deep breath and began carefully and slowly pass the line
through the equal sign toward the other side of the equation. At some
point, the line got stuck to the inner wall of the channel inside the
equal sign. Farley grabbed the = with his left hand and carefully pulled
back on the line with his other hand and detached it and pull it all out
to the right side of the equation again, then grabbed both ends of it
and pulled them apart to make it less jagged, then repeated the attempt
to pass it through the = to the other side.

It worked better this time, and its left tip began sticking out from the
left opening of the =. Grabbed that tip and began pulling until almost
all of it was out on the left side yet making sure it was still attached
to the equal sign. He now removed the 1 from the right side of the
equation and put it at a safe distance away from the equation. Now he
pulled the line left a bit more, letting it drop loose inside the left
side.

It was time now! Farley made himself ready for action. He removed the 1
and slowly and carefully brought it close, and placed it on the right
side of the equation.

POP!.. Farley immediately removed the 1 and the equal sign and squeezed
them with his two fingers together and rolled them around until they
were kind of combined into each other, making a dry booger like piece of
object, then with a string action, threw the piece into the air in some
direction. It hit Ahlstrom in the face and dropped, causing him not even
the slightest move of the head and face muscles other than a rapid blink
of the eye. He kept watching in awe exactly as before.

Farley then made himself comfortable again, reached forward and grabbed
the second upside down h and turned it back to the downside down
position, removed the dot, pressed the two h's closer to each other, and
got ready for the next step.

COLA watching intently, all except RonB who was still sitting at his
table looking away, murmuring to himself some parochial nonsense. Farley
turned to him and said,

Farley: "RonB!.. Quiet! This is important."

RonB continued but more quietly.

Farley then got his face close to the letters hh and said rather loudly,

Farley: "FUCKING AUSCHWITZ!"

...

Everybody continued watching silently. Nothing happened!

Farley got a bit nervous and again said,

Farley: "AUSCHWITZ!" ...

Nothing changed.

Farley: "STALLMAN!"

.... Nothing happened... A commotion began in COLA and everyone at once
started saying some nonsense as they're so quick to do.

Farley looked at Physfit. Physfit said,

Physfit: "Don't look at me guy, I'm not the one who did that. Finish
that yourself."

Farley began trying different stuff,

Farley: "KHOMEINY!... YAHOO NETANYAHOO!... FUCKING BIDEN!... THAT
FUCKING BLINKEN!... THAT DICKHEAD DUFUS!... THAT COCKSUCKER TRUMP!.. "

Joel: "Stop that shit. It's obvious none will work."

Farley sat back and exhaled a hopeless breath. Then looked again at
Physfit.

Physfit: "No."

Farley began thinking. What had he done differently? What had he done
wrong? Then he suddenly turned towards RonB and said,

Farley: "Hey, there!.. What were you fucking murmuring while I was
doing this shit??.."

Physfit: "If that's what fucked it up then it must have something to do
with Pope The Penis X."

Farley: "Fucking yes!"

Farley stood up and strode towards RonB who was still sitting there
looking away, murmuring parochial crap. Told him it must've been his
fault that the procedure didn't work, so he must go fix this himself.

RonB didn't respond. Farley grabbed his parochial style collar-grab and
lifted him up into a standing position and shouted,

Farley: "GET FUCKING BUSY!... "

RonB reluctantly walked over to hh's table, pushed the chair aside to
get his crotch as close as possible to the edge of the table. Then
separated his legs a bit, placed the palm of his left hand on his
crotch, then began making the sign of the cross on himself, ending with
a very pronounced Michael Jacksonian yank of the pelvis forward.

BANG!... hh himself jumped out into COLA!...

RonB silently walked back to his table and sat there and looked away.

Physfit: "I somehow knew it had to do with the concept of Pope, and the
concept of Penis."

Farley: "I fucking knew it too! That guy doesn't fucking breathe without
Pope The Penis Fucking X in mind. Even his physical proximity to science
and math creates penis stuff."

But hey, hh was out of the algebra, but was he the exact same hh? This
matter quickly came to COLA's attention collectively, and everybody now
turned to hh and began observing him.

Farley: "Are you ok?"

hh: "Of course I'm."

A little commotion like a bit of relief was created among COLA.

Farley: "Where did you last vacation?"

hh: "Visited D Day, I told COLA this before."

Joel: "He's back. It's him. Yawn.."

Farley: "What is Farley good for?"

hh: "Good for nothing."

Farley: "The creep's fucking back."

Farley went back to his table, sat down and took in a deep breath of
relief. This crap was at last over.

Physfit clicked the Thunderbird closed again.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak
Farley went back to his table, sat down and took in a deep breath of
relief. This crap was at last over.
Physfit clicked the Thunderbird closed again.

Now it was really late. Routine sleep-wake pattern meant a lot when he
lived pretty much a pre-agriculture man's life. The bed was still for no
reason in the living room. No idea how it got there. It is a very light
bed by choice. Physfit hated large, heavy beds. He believed such beds
were only in cro-magnons' minds something desirable. A lingering
sensation from eons of sleeping inside tight holes in the ice in north
Europe as neanderthals, and only relatively recently having been fucked
into cro-magnons by the Iranian explorer men, after stumbling upon such
ground-meat like huge asses, and out of absolute lack of anything else
within thousands of miles to fuck.

He took his shoes and clothes off down to only a loose short; quickly
brushed his teeth with a bit of table salt "toothpaste" and gargled the
mouth pristine clean. This toothpaste thingy was also another mark of
cro-magnons. The fucking species itself was for some unknown reason,
goo-lover. They put goo into their soaps, they rubbed goo over their
entire bodies, they sold pure goo to rub their hands with; goo in their
shampoos, goo in their antibiotics, goo before fucking each other's homo
asses, and goo as the material to wash their teeth with. Nothing simpler
and better and cleaner and healthier and more natural than a few
milligrams of salt to use, to wash teeth, and that species _never_ found
that out. _Will_ never find it out.

He then took the little flashlight with him and went around turning off
all the lights in the house except the two outside ones for cameras to
see better, then opened the blinds on the windows so he'd wake up in the
morning basked in intense sunlight inside the living room. Got to bed,
touched to check for the mighty 9 mm to see if it was there where it was
supposed to be, then subtracted the number of curses of the day from
200, and mentally noted how many curses he was allowed the day after.
Then, within just a few seconds, he was asleep.

Woke up after intense dreams of eating Long John Silvers fish fillets
and coleslaw before, while, and after anything he did in that dream, and
sure enough found the whole living room was filled with sunlight. Cats
on seeing him awake began moving around saying hi and get vocal and
active with each other, ready for their food.

As hungry as he felt, if it was the day after yesterday for sure, it
wouldn't be an eating day for Physfit, so coffee was the maximum he
could indulge in. Prepared that cheapest fucking coffee he could put his
hands on in Dallas from Aldi's, "Beaumont Coffee, Classic Roast", which
had a map of Texas on its lid, and said right there, "Go Texan",
underneath, which still was potent enough to place the very essence of
life and the zest for it back in him a 100%. He'd pay for "best" coffee
in the world, so don't get him wrong, but out of grudge for those crooks
who quadrupled their prices just to claim theirs were better, he kind of
proved to himself and them both, that they were mere crooks, by showing
that the cheapest coffee in the entire world still did exactly what it
was supposed to do.

Physfit sat down with the cats and began enjoying his cup of coffee.
Each time he sipped it, it was one seep of coffee he had not bought from
those motherfuckers, adding to the pleasure in this morning habit of
his. Two of the cats always competed to be on his lap. It was the turn
for the white and green tabby one. The one who always looked at him with
wet eyes and pink eyelids, assertively, as well as interrogatively,
knowing that she owned him, and letting him know she was happy to be
with him, but whether it was so for him as well. It sure was, and he
wouldn't know how to tell her that. He lacked such mastery in expressing
without words. So she kept asking the same question every time she
looked at him straight in the eyes. She was allergic to something there
in the house.

Then on a hunch, Physfit went to the window to check the magic mountain.
It was there. So everything again became affected by some degree of
uncertainty. Especially the time. He was so unusually hungry. Was it
really the day after the night of enjoying that zesty Long John Silver's
fillets and coleslaw? Could it be a totally different day? Bed was still
in the living room, so not too much could've passed since.

He began the routine of feeding the cats. That routine was long and
involved enough to make him tired. Usually needing a 15 or 20-minute
visit to physics and COLA forums to rest and catch his energy again as
he let his dick do whatever it wanted there. There was a time that he'd
get physically active in the house for 4 hours, on weekends, before
needing any rest, but now at that age, the period had shortened to about
an hour and a half. This made him visit forums a few times too often per
day than he _and_ his dick liked.

So he did visit usenet and took a look inside physics, and then COLA
forums. Same crap going on in both. In physics forum a couple of loonies
were trying to imitate a human that's actually alive, and in COLA,
groupies were following Farley this way and that way like little kids,
struggling to get a response from him. Or coming for Physfit's dick to
get the links they still painfully missed, after their fuck-ups in the
manner with which they'd asked for them. What a zoo. He clicked the
Thunderbird closed, and decided to find out what day it really was.

He checked inside his pants pockets and found the receipt for the Long
John Silver's. Checked the date on the almost zero charge smartphone
with the date on the receipt. Four days had passed!...

So no wonder, and what was good about it? He could make another
excursion to Long John Silver's :-) Which he almost immediately did.

Physfit drove the 7 miles, windows all open, feeling great. Texas could
beat American homos and smart alecks' "San Francisco" ten times over on
days like that. Too bad they were rare. And too bad each time they came,
people couldn't go outside to enjoy them. They had to be at work. And
only when the day was over and gone, they'd come out to live with what
was left of it.

He got there, got his Aspire One mini laptop dedicated to DOS with
qBASIC on it out of his backpack and fired it on, drove into the
drive-thru and at the menu board ran the code he'd made to convert
repeating decimals into reduced fractions, before ordering anything. As
he looked up to see the menu, he went like,

"What in the world of the Holy Fucking Penis!" as he slowly scanned
the board left and right.

All prices were given in continued fractions. He shouted, "FUCK!" and
turned off and placed his Aspire One mini laptop dedicated to DOS with
qBASIC on it back inside his backpack, made the order for three fillets,
then drove to the window.

Same nice girl was at the window, gadget in hand, with "nice" meaning
fuckworthy. She put some numbers in the gadget and told him, "$15 for
fillets by themselves, and $22 for same, but as meal." Physfit said,
"Wasn't it the other night $13 and $18 respectively?" She replied, "This
is Dallas, and that was the other night."

On taking that relatively brash remark, Physfit told himself, "Hmm.. so
she's only good for fuck then." He briefly looked forward and then back
at the clerk and asked how she'd calculated the price. She said the
number the continued fraction is calculated into was the price of the
three fillets as meal, and the sum of the numbers that were added to all
those fractions, from first line down to the last line at the bottom,
gave the price for the three fillets on their own.

He added a huge side of coleslaw to the order, paid for it and drove
back home.

On the menu board, how was the price of the three fillets expressed in
continued fractions?

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak

Post by Physfitfreak
Farley went back to his table, sat down and took in a deep breath of
relief. This crap was at last over.
Physfit clicked the Thunderbird closed again.

Now it was really late. Routine sleep-wake pattern meant a lot when he
lived pretty much a pre-agriculture man's life. The bed was still for no
reason in the living room. No idea how it got there. It is a very light
bed by choice. Physfit hated large, heavy beds. He believed such beds
were only in cro-magnons' minds something desirable. A lingering
sensation from eons of sleeping inside tight holes in the ice in north
Europe as neanderthals, and only relatively recently having been fucked
into cro-magnons by the Iranian explorer men, after stumbling upon such
ground-meat like huge asses, and out of absolute lack of anything else
within thousands of miles to fuck.
He took his shoes and clothes off down to only a loose short; quickly
brushed his teeth with a bit of table salt "toothpaste" and gargled the
mouth pristine clean. This toothpaste thingy was also another mark of
cro-magnons. The fucking species itself was for some unknown reason,
goo-lover. They put goo into their soaps, they rubbed goo over their
entire bodies, they sold pure goo to rub their hands with; goo in their
shampoos, goo in their antibiotics, goo before fucking each other's homo
asses, and goo as the material to wash their teeth with. Nothing simpler
and better and cleaner and healthier and more natural than a few
milligrams of salt to use, to wash teeth, and that species _never_ found
that out. _Will_ never find it out.
He then took the little flashlight with him and went around turning off
all the lights in the house except the two outside ones for cameras to
see better, then opened the blinds on the windows so he'd wake up in the
morning basked in intense sunlight inside the living room. Got to bed,
touched to check for the mighty 9 mm to see if it was there where it was
supposed to be, then subtracted the number of curses of the day from
200, and mentally noted how many curses he was allowed the day after.
Then, within just a few seconds, he was asleep.
Woke up after intense dreams of eating Long John Silvers fish fillets
and coleslaw before, while, and after anything he did in that dream, and
sure enough found the whole living room was filled with sunlight. Cats
on seeing him awake began moving around saying hi and get vocal and
active with each other, ready for their food.
As hungry as he felt, if it was the day after yesterday for sure, it
wouldn't be an eating day for Physfit, so coffee was the maximum he
could indulge in. Prepared that cheapest fucking coffee he could put his
hands on in Dallas from Aldi's, "Beaumont Coffee, Classic Roast", which
had a map of Texas on its lid, and said right there, "Go Texan",
underneath, which still was potent enough to place the very essence of
life and the zest for it back in him a 100%. He'd pay for "best" coffee
in the world, so don't get him wrong, but out of grudge for those crooks
who quadrupled their prices just to claim theirs were better, he kind of
proved to himself and them both, that they were mere crooks, by showing
that the cheapest coffee in the entire world still did exactly what it
was supposed to do.
Physfit sat down with the cats and began enjoying his cup of coffee.
Each time he sipped it, it was one seep of coffee he had not bought from
those motherfuckers, adding to the pleasure in this morning habit of
his. Two of the cats always competed to be on his lap. It was the turn
for the white and green tabby one. The one who always looked at him with
wet eyes and pink eyelids, assertively, as well as interrogatively,
knowing that she owned him, and letting him know she was happy to be
with him, but whether it was so for him as well. It sure was, and he
wouldn't know how to tell her that. He lacked such mastery in expressing
without words. So she kept asking the same question every time she
looked at him straight in the eyes. She was allergic to something there
in the house.
Then on a hunch, Physfit went to the window to check the magic mountain.
It was there. So everything again became affected by some degree of
uncertainty. Especially the time. He was so unusually hungry. Was it
really the day after the night of enjoying that zesty Long John Silver's
fillets and coleslaw? Could it be a totally different day? Bed was still
in the living room, so not too much could've passed since.
He began the routine of feeding the cats. That routine was long and
involved enough to make him tired. Usually needing a 15 or 20-minute
visit to physics and COLA forums to rest and catch his energy again as
he let his dick do whatever it wanted there. There was a time that he'd
get physically active in the house for 4 hours, on weekends, before
needing any rest, but now at that age, the period had shortened to about
an hour and a half. This made him visit forums a few times too often per
day than he _and_ his dick liked.
So he did visit usenet and took a look inside physics, and then COLA
forums. Same crap going on in both. In physics forum a couple of loonies
were trying to imitate a human that's actually alive, and in COLA,
groupies were following Farley this way and that way like little kids,
struggling to get a response from him. Or coming for Physfit's dick to
get the links they still painfully missed, after their fuck-ups in the
manner with which they'd asked for them. What a zoo. He clicked the
Thunderbird closed, and decided to find out what day it really was.
He checked inside his pants pockets and found the receipt for the Long
John Silver's. Checked the date on the almost zero charge smartphone
with the date on the receipt. Four days had passed!...
So no wonder, and what was good about it? He could make another
excursion to Long John Silver's :-) Which he almost immediately did.
Physfit drove the 7 miles, windows all open, feeling great. Texas could
beat American homos and smart alecks' "San Francisco" ten times over on
days like that. Too bad they were rare. And too bad each time they came,
 people couldn't go outside to enjoy them. They had to be at work. And
only when the day was over and gone, they'd come out to live with what
was left of it.
He got there, got his Aspire One mini laptop dedicated to DOS with
qBASIC on it out of his backpack and fired it on, drove into the
drive-thru and at the menu board ran the code he'd made to convert
repeating decimals into reduced fractions, before ordering anything. As
he looked up to see the menu, he went like,
   "What in the world of the Holy Fucking Penis!" as he slowly scanned
the board left and right.
All prices were given in continued fractions. He shouted, "FUCK!" and
turned off and placed his Aspire One mini laptop dedicated to DOS with
qBASIC on it back inside his backpack, made the order for three fillets,
then drove to the window.
Same nice girl was at the window, gadget in hand, with "nice" meaning
fuckworthy. She put some numbers in the gadget and told him, "$15 for
fillets by themselves, and $22 for same, but as meal." Physfit said,
"Wasn't it the other night $13 and $18 respectively?" She replied, "This
is Dallas, and that was the other night."
On taking that relatively brash remark, Physfit told himself, "Hmm.. so
she's only good for fuck then." He briefly looked forward and then back
at the clerk and asked how she'd calculated the price. She said the
number the continued fraction is calculated into was the price of the
three fillets as meal, and the sum of the numbers that were added to all
those fractions, from first line down to the last line at the bottom,
gave the price for the three fillets on their own.
He added a huge side of coleslaw to the order, paid for it and drove
back home.
On the menu board, how was the price of the three fillets expressed in
continued fractions?

But the stupid clerk had made a mistake in explaining the pricing. When
Physfit called Long John Silvers and asked for the pricing again, since
what the clerk had told him was impossible, they explained that it was
the numerator of the reduced fraction that the continued fraction would
reduce into, which gave the price of the meal, not the whole fraction.

Then Physfit regenerated the continued fraction, at home, that
represented the price of the three fillets on the menu board.

If Physfit could do this, anyone could do that too, right? Hehe :)

[Farley Flud]

Post by Physfitfreak

Post by Physfitfreak
He took his shoes and clothes off down to only a loose short; quickly
brushed his teeth with a bit of table salt "toothpaste" and gargled the
mouth pristine clean. This toothpaste thingy was also another mark of
cro-magnons. The fucking species itself was for some unknown reason,
goo-lover. They put goo into their soaps, they rubbed goo over their
entire bodies, they sold pure goo to rub their hands with; goo in their
shampoos, goo in their antibiotics, goo before fucking each other's homo
asses, and goo as the material to wash their teeth with. Nothing simpler
and better and cleaner and healthier and more natural than a few
milligrams of salt to use, to wash teeth, and that species _never_ found
that out. _Will_ never find it out.

I have to take issue with your description of Western toothpaste
as "goo."

Western toothpaste contains diatomaceous earth which is an excellent
and mild abrasive to remove any dental plaque and tartar as well as acting
as a gum stimulant to prevent gingivitis. Salt alone cannot do this.

Western toothpaste also contains surfactants that greatly aid in the
uniform distribution of the abrasives and other ingredients.

Western toothpaste also contains fluorides which can strengthen enamel.

I would never prefer salt to a good formulated toothpaste.

Post by Physfitfreak

Post by Physfitfreak
He then took the little flashlight with him and went around turning off
all the lights in the house except the two outside ones for cameras to
see better, then opened the blinds on the windows so he'd wake up in the
morning basked in intense sunlight inside the living room. Got to bed,
touched to check for the mighty 9 mm to see if it was there where it was
supposed to be, then subtracted the number of curses of the day from
200, and mentally noted how many curses he was allowed the day after.
Then, within just a few seconds, he was asleep.
Woke up after intense dreams of eating Long John Silvers fish fillets
and coleslaw before, while, and after anything he did in that dream, and
sure enough found the whole living room was filled with sunlight. Cats
on seeing him awake began moving around saying hi and get vocal and
active with each other, ready for their food.
As hungry as he felt, if it was the day after yesterday for sure, it
wouldn't be an eating day for Physfit, so coffee was the maximum he
could indulge in. Prepared that cheapest fucking coffee he could put his
hands on in Dallas from Aldi's, "Beaumont Coffee, Classic Roast", which
had a map of Texas on its lid, and said right there, "Go Texan",
underneath, which still was potent enough to place the very essence of
life and the zest for it back in him a 100%. He'd pay for "best" coffee
in the world, so don't get him wrong, but out of grudge for those crooks
who quadrupled their prices just to claim theirs were better, he kind of
proved to himself and them both, that they were mere crooks, by showing
that the cheapest coffee in the entire world still did exactly what it
was supposed to do.
Physfit sat down with the cats and began enjoying his cup of coffee.
Each time he sipped it, it was one seep of coffee he had not bought from
those motherfuckers, adding to the pleasure in this morning habit of
his. Two of the cats always competed to be on his lap. It was the turn
for the white and green tabby one. The one who always looked at him with
wet eyes and pink eyelids, assertively, as well as interrogatively,
knowing that she owned him, and letting him know she was happy to be
with him, but whether it was so for him as well. It sure was, and he
wouldn't know how to tell her that. He lacked such mastery in expressing
without words. So she kept asking the same question every time she
looked at him straight in the eyes. She was allergic to something there
in the house.
Then on a hunch, Physfit went to the window to check the magic mountain.
It was there. So everything again became affected by some degree of
uncertainty. Especially the time. He was so unusually hungry. Was it
really the day after the night of enjoying that zesty Long John Silver's
fillets and coleslaw? Could it be a totally different day? Bed was still
in the living room, so not too much could've passed since.
He began the routine of feeding the cats. That routine was long and
involved enough to make him tired. Usually needing a 15 or 20-minute
visit to physics and COLA forums to rest and catch his energy again as
he let his dick do whatever it wanted there. There was a time that he'd
get physically active in the house for 4 hours, on weekends, before
needing any rest, but now at that age, the period had shortened to about
an hour and a half. This made him visit forums a few times too often per
day than he _and_ his dick liked.
So he did visit usenet and took a look inside physics, and then COLA
forums. Same crap going on in both. In physics forum a couple of loonies
were trying to imitate a human that's actually alive, and in COLA,
groupies were following Farley this way and that way like little kids,
struggling to get a response from him. Or coming for Physfit's dick to
get the links they still painfully missed, after their fuck-ups in the
manner with which they'd asked for them. What a zoo. He clicked the
Thunderbird closed, and decided to find out what day it really was.
He checked inside his pants pockets and found the receipt for the Long
John Silver's. Checked the date on the almost zero charge smartphone
with the date on the receipt. Four days had passed!...
So no wonder, and what was good about it? He could make another
excursion to Long John Silver's :-) Which he almost immediately did.
Physfit drove the 7 miles, windows all open, feeling great. Texas could
beat American homos and smart alecks' "San Francisco" ten times over on
days like that. Too bad they were rare. And too bad each time they came,
 people couldn't go outside to enjoy them. They had to be at work. And
only when the day was over and gone, they'd come out to live with what
was left of it.
He got there, got his Aspire One mini laptop dedicated to DOS with
qBASIC on it out of his backpack and fired it on, drove into the
drive-thru and at the menu board ran the code he'd made to convert
repeating decimals into reduced fractions, before ordering anything. As
he looked up to see the menu, he went like,
   "What in the world of the Holy Fucking Penis!" as he slowly scanned
the board left and right.
All prices were given in continued fractions. He shouted, "FUCK!" and
turned off and placed his Aspire One mini laptop dedicated to DOS with
qBASIC on it back inside his backpack, made the order for three fillets,
then drove to the window.
Same nice girl was at the window, gadget in hand, with "nice" meaning
fuckworthy. She put some numbers in the gadget and told him, "$15 for
fillets by themselves, and $22 for same, but as meal." Physfit said,
"Wasn't it the other night $13 and $18 respectively?" She replied, "This
is Dallas, and that was the other night."
On taking that relatively brash remark, Physfit told himself, "Hmm.. so
she's only good for fuck then." He briefly looked forward and then back
at the clerk and asked how she'd calculated the price. She said the
number the continued fraction is calculated into was the price of the
three fillets as meal, and the sum of the numbers that were added to all
those fractions, from first line down to the last line at the bottom,
gave the price for the three fillets on their own.
He added a huge side of coleslaw to the order, paid for it and drove
back home.
On the menu board, how was the price of the three fillets expressed in
continued fractions?

But the stupid clerk had made a mistake in explaining the pricing. When
Physfit called Long John Silvers and asked for the pricing again, since
what the clerk had told him was impossible, they explained that it was
the numerator of the reduced fraction that the continued fraction would
reduce into, which gave the price of the meal, not the whole fraction.
Then Physfit regenerated the continued fraction, at home, that
represented the price of the three fillets on the menu board.
If Physfit could do this, anyone could do that too, right? Hehe :)

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak

Post by Physfitfreak
He took his shoes and clothes off down to only a loose short; quickly
brushed his teeth with a bit of table salt "toothpaste" and gargled the
mouth pristine clean. This toothpaste thingy was also another mark of
cro-magnons. The fucking species itself was for some unknown reason,
goo-lover. They put goo into their soaps, they rubbed goo over their
entire bodies, they sold pure goo to rub their hands with; goo in their
shampoos, goo in their antibiotics, goo before fucking each other's homo
asses, and goo as the material to wash their teeth with. Nothing simpler
and better and cleaner and healthier and more natural than a few
milligrams of salt to use, to wash teeth, and that species _never_ found
that out. _Will_ never find it out.

I have to take issue with your description of Western toothpaste
as "goo."
Western toothpaste contains diatomaceous earth which is an excellent
and mild abrasive to remove any dental plaque and tartar as well as acting
as a gum stimulant to prevent gingivitis. Salt alone cannot do this.
Western toothpaste also contains surfactants that greatly aid in the
uniform distribution of the abrasives and other ingredients.
Western toothpaste also contains fluorides which can strengthen enamel.
I would never prefer salt to a good formulated toothpaste.

Post by Physfitfreak

Post by Physfitfreak
He then took the little flashlight with him and went around turning off
all the lights in the house except the two outside ones for cameras to
see better, then opened the blinds on the windows so he'd wake up in the
morning basked in intense sunlight inside the living room. Got to bed,
touched to check for the mighty 9 mm to see if it was there where it was
supposed to be, then subtracted the number of curses of the day from
200, and mentally noted how many curses he was allowed the day after.
Then, within just a few seconds, he was asleep.
Woke up after intense dreams of eating Long John Silvers fish fillets
and coleslaw before, while, and after anything he did in that dream, and
sure enough found the whole living room was filled with sunlight. Cats
on seeing him awake began moving around saying hi and get vocal and
active with each other, ready for their food.
As hungry as he felt, if it was the day after yesterday for sure, it
wouldn't be an eating day for Physfit, so coffee was the maximum he
could indulge in. Prepared that cheapest fucking coffee he could put his
hands on in Dallas from Aldi's, "Beaumont Coffee, Classic Roast", which
had a map of Texas on its lid, and said right there, "Go Texan",
underneath, which still was potent enough to place the very essence of
life and the zest for it back in him a 100%. He'd pay for "best" coffee
in the world, so don't get him wrong, but out of grudge for those crooks
who quadrupled their prices just to claim theirs were better, he kind of
proved to himself and them both, that they were mere crooks, by showing
that the cheapest coffee in the entire world still did exactly what it
was supposed to do.
Physfit sat down with the cats and began enjoying his cup of coffee.
Each time he sipped it, it was one seep of coffee he had not bought from
those motherfuckers, adding to the pleasure in this morning habit of
his. Two of the cats always competed to be on his lap. It was the turn
for the white and green tabby one. The one who always looked at him with
wet eyes and pink eyelids, assertively, as well as interrogatively,
knowing that she owned him, and letting him know she was happy to be
with him, but whether it was so for him as well. It sure was, and he
wouldn't know how to tell her that. He lacked such mastery in expressing
without words. So she kept asking the same question every time she
looked at him straight in the eyes. She was allergic to something there
in the house.
Then on a hunch, Physfit went to the window to check the magic mountain.
It was there. So everything again became affected by some degree of
uncertainty. Especially the time. He was so unusually hungry. Was it
really the day after the night of enjoying that zesty Long John Silver's
fillets and coleslaw? Could it be a totally different day? Bed was still
in the living room, so not too much could've passed since.
He began the routine of feeding the cats. That routine was long and
involved enough to make him tired. Usually needing a 15 or 20-minute
visit to physics and COLA forums to rest and catch his energy again as
he let his dick do whatever it wanted there. There was a time that he'd
get physically active in the house for 4 hours, on weekends, before
needing any rest, but now at that age, the period had shortened to about
an hour and a half. This made him visit forums a few times too often per
day than he _and_ his dick liked.
So he did visit usenet and took a look inside physics, and then COLA
forums. Same crap going on in both. In physics forum a couple of loonies
were trying to imitate a human that's actually alive, and in COLA,
groupies were following Farley this way and that way like little kids,
struggling to get a response from him. Or coming for Physfit's dick to
get the links they still painfully missed, after their fuck-ups in the
manner with which they'd asked for them. What a zoo. He clicked the
Thunderbird closed, and decided to find out what day it really was.
He checked inside his pants pockets and found the receipt for the Long
John Silver's. Checked the date on the almost zero charge smartphone
with the date on the receipt. Four days had passed!...
So no wonder, and what was good about it? He could make another
excursion to Long John Silver's :-) Which he almost immediately did.
Physfit drove the 7 miles, windows all open, feeling great. Texas could
beat American homos and smart alecks' "San Francisco" ten times over on
days like that. Too bad they were rare. And too bad each time they came,
 people couldn't go outside to enjoy them. They had to be at work. And
only when the day was over and gone, they'd come out to live with what
was left of it.
He got there, got his Aspire One mini laptop dedicated to DOS with
qBASIC on it out of his backpack and fired it on, drove into the
drive-thru and at the menu board ran the code he'd made to convert
repeating decimals into reduced fractions, before ordering anything. As
he looked up to see the menu, he went like,
   "What in the world of the Holy Fucking Penis!" as he slowly scanned
the board left and right.
All prices were given in continued fractions. He shouted, "FUCK!" and
turned off and placed his Aspire One mini laptop dedicated to DOS with
qBASIC on it back inside his backpack, made the order for three fillets,
then drove to the window.
Same nice girl was at the window, gadget in hand, with "nice" meaning
fuckworthy. She put some numbers in the gadget and told him, "$15 for
fillets by themselves, and $22 for same, but as meal." Physfit said,
"Wasn't it the other night $13 and $18 respectively?" She replied, "This
is Dallas, and that was the other night."
On taking that relatively brash remark, Physfit told himself, "Hmm.. so
she's only good for fuck then." He briefly looked forward and then back
at the clerk and asked how she'd calculated the price. She said the
number the continued fraction is calculated into was the price of the
three fillets as meal, and the sum of the numbers that were added to all
those fractions, from first line down to the last line at the bottom,
gave the price for the three fillets on their own.
He added a huge side of coleslaw to the order, paid for it and drove
back home.
On the menu board, how was the price of the three fillets expressed in
continued fractions?

But the stupid clerk had made a mistake in explaining the pricing. When
Physfit called Long John Silvers and asked for the pricing again, since
what the clerk had told him was impossible, they explained that it was
the numerator of the reduced fraction that the continued fraction would
reduce into, which gave the price of the meal, not the whole fraction.
Then Physfit regenerated the continued fraction, at home, that
represented the price of the three fillets on the menu board.
If Physfit could do this, anyone could do that too, right? Hehe :)

But it's gooey.

Make a powder of all that, to be used only with water without creating a
gooey texture, and I'll be all for it. "Tooth powder" on the shelves
still exist, but are extremely rarer than the toothpaste across the
cro-magnon realms. And even then, when I tried, yielded a gooey texture
in the mouth and not a watery texture.

Perhaps you tried salt using too much of it. A very little amount of
salt, about the size of an aspirin pill, is all that's needed. Salt is
abrasive and anti-microbial. It is to a little extent abrasive to gums
as well, which in fact is beneficial, stimulating them to regenerate
faster and develop slightly thicker skin. And works well if you brush
your teeth just once a day, best at night before sleeping.

If you're concerned with tea or coffee stains, you can add a tiny bit of
baking soda to it (sodium bicarbonate).

Goo rules herr. If dishwashing liquid is not gooey, it does not sell. If
clothes washing machine detergent is not gooey, it doesn't sell as well
as the powdered ones. In fact it is harder and harder now to find the
powder form of them. If soap bars don't have additional goo mixed in,
people don't touch them, fearing "dry skin" would result. If skin is dry
for some reason, people rub goo on it instead of making sure it is
brushed clean and then wait for the natural oil seep out over the skin.

If after using soap bars and brushes to wash your skin in the shower,
the skin doesn't feel gooey under the last shower, then the soap used
will never get purchased again by that user. If cleaned skin is squeeky
clean, which is what the clean skin is indeed, it horrifies that user,
because it is not gooey and therefore not good. God forbit if shampoo
would come in the form of a powder and not goo. Soap bars are gradually
giving in to shower jells, cause the latter is gooey.

If a cake doesn't have an inch-thick fucking goo all over it, it won't sell!

Have you tried Iranian stores who sell Iranian pastries? You dont' find
anything gooey in them. You'd just pay five times the price of gooey
pastries out there, and buy the non-gooey ones from those stores,
because it still sells at those prices!

Plain yogurt in this land of the brave, without adding goo to it as
well, stayes on the shelves until expiration day. Who dares here to
touch yogurt as it naturally made? You just have to give it a gooey
texture to make sure it'll sell.

Goo on the skin makes money. Goo in the mouth, if sweet, makes money.
Goo on the lips. Goo in and around the ass. Goo in the laxatives. Goo in
medicinal oral suspensions. Goo in the hamburger. Goo in the salads. Goo
to pour over your steaks. Goo to rub over your rotisserie chicken.

Iranians make kabobs and enjoy it. You turn the kabob into barbecue,
cause it's gooey.

[Farley Flud]

Post by Physfitfreak
Make a powder of all that, to be used only with water without creating a
gooey texture, and I'll be all for it. "Tooth powder" on the shelves
still exist, but are extremely rarer than the toothpaste

Tooth powder is available through various on-line retailers and
I will have to try it. I do not like the saccharin which they
add to the "gooey" toothpaste.

Post by Physfitfreak
If a cake doesn't have an inch-thick fucking goo all over it, it won't sell!

It requires a great amount of chemical/biochemical sophistication to be
able to understand common products, and, needless to say, the average
consumer has not been properly educated.

I practice the Mediterranean diet, partake of no sucrose, exercise
regularly and vigorously, and drink wine moderately.

I never have to visit the doctor or dentist and probably never will.

Also, the practice of advanced mathematics keeps the mind sharp (and
I thank Maxima and FriCAS).

[rbowman]

Post by Physfitfreak
Perhaps you tried salt using too much of it. A very little amount of
salt, about the size of an aspirin pill, is all that's needed. Salt is
abrasive and anti-microbial. It is to a little extent abrasive to gums
as well, which in fact is beneficial, stimulating them to regenerate
faster and develop slightly thicker skin. And works well if you brush
your teeth just once a day, best at night before sleeping.

Salt and a well chewed willow branch -- field expedient dental care.
it's right up there with wiping your ass with poison ivy.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by rbowman

Post by Physfitfreak
Perhaps you tried salt using too much of it. A very little amount of
salt, about the size of an aspirin pill, is all that's needed. Salt is
abrasive and anti-microbial. It is to a little extent abrasive to gums
as well, which in fact is beneficial, stimulating them to regenerate
faster and develop slightly thicker skin. And works well if you brush
your teeth just once a day, best at night before sleeping.

Salt and a well chewed willow branch -- field expedient dental care.
it's right up there with wiping your ass with poison ivy.

The previous tenant of one of my past residences had planted poison ivy
all around the yard, by the walls, making it impossible for someone to
jump down inside his yard over the walls without getting a good dose of
it on his pants and shoes. The walls were just very tall strong metal
mesh and see-through, so those who knew better wouldn't even try.

But that was good for someone without cats. So almost right away I
carefully removed all the poison ivy in that yard and cut them into and
inside a food processor with plastic walls. Ran it to a rough paste,
then extracted the juice into a little glass container through a piece
of cotton cloth, using force, and not knowing what I was going to do
with the juice. Then I noticed, when I went back into kitchen to wash
the food processor, that the inner plastic wall had been irregularly
eaten away! I cleaned it anyway and I still have it, with the deep scars
on the inner wall.

So whatever it is that's in poison ivy, it even eats plastics.

To make sure the juice (light green color) is potent, not just the
leaves, I dabbed a tiny bit of it on my thigh, and quickly wiped it dry,
and a couple of days later even with two full showers in between, a
wound began to form at that spot and developed worse and worse for a few
days to the full blown stage, then took three or four weeks or more to
heal! Scar and the discolored spot of it lasing months more.

I kept the little bottle for a few years, then eventually poured the
content down the toilet. Very nasty stuff. I bet cro-magnons use it as
chemical weapon in some form or shape.

[rbowman]

Post by Physfitfreak
I kept the little bottle for a few years, then eventually poured the
content down the toilet. Very nasty stuff. I bet cro-magnons use it as
chemical weapon in some form or shape.

Us cro-magnons have a lot of nasty little surprises for those who mess
with us.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by rbowman

Post by Physfitfreak
I kept the little bottle for a few years, then eventually poured the
content down the toilet. Very nasty stuff. I bet cro-magnons use it as
chemical weapon in some form or shape.

Us cro-magnons have a lot of nasty little surprises for those who mess
with us.

You even have Satan in you to "surprise" them.

Surprise is in the future though. For your species. And by your species.

[Chris Ahlstrom]

Post by rbowman

Post by Physfitfreak
Perhaps you tried salt using too much of it. A very little amount of
salt, about the size of an aspirin pill, is all that's needed. Salt is
abrasive and anti-microbial. It is to a little extent abrasive to gums
as well, which in fact is beneficial, stimulating them to regenerate
faster and develop slightly thicker skin. And works well if you brush
your teeth just once a day, best at night before sleeping.

Salt and a well chewed willow branch -- field expedient dental care.
it's right up there with wiping your ass with poison ivy.

There was a kid in our neighborhood who deliberately rubbed poison oak on
her legs as a form of stotting. The result was not pretty.

[Chris Ahlstrom]

Post by Farley Flud

Post by Physfitfreak
He took his shoes and clothes off down to only a loose short; quickly
brushed his teeth with a bit of table salt "toothpaste" and gargled the
mouth pristine clean. This toothpaste thingy was also another mark of
cro-magnons. The fucking species itself was for some unknown reason,
goo-lover. They put goo into their soaps, they rubbed goo over their
entire bodies, they sold pure goo to rub their hands with; goo in their
shampoos, goo in their antibiotics, goo before fucking each other's homo
asses, and goo as the material to wash their teeth with. Nothing simpler
and better and cleaner and healthier and more natural than a few
milligrams of salt to use, to wash teeth, and that species _never_ found
that out. _Will_ never find it out.

I have to take issue with your description of Western toothpaste
as "goo."
Western toothpaste contains diatomaceous earth which is an excellent
and mild abrasive to remove any dental plaque and tartar as well as acting
as a gum stimulant to prevent gingivitis. Salt alone cannot do this.
Western toothpaste also contains surfactants that greatly aid in the
uniform distribution of the abrasives and other ingredients.
Western toothpaste also contains fluorides which can strengthen enamel.
I would never prefer salt to a good formulated toothpaste.

Why not? It worked for Antonie van Leeuwenhoek.

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak

Post by Physfitfreak
On the menu board, how was the price of the three fillets expressed in
continued fractions?

But the stupid clerk had made a mistake in explaining the pricing. When
Physfit called Long John Silvers and asked for the pricing again, since
what the clerk had told him was impossible, they explained that it was
the numerator of the reduced fraction that the continued fraction would
reduce into, which gave the price of the meal, not the whole fraction.
Then Physfit regenerated the continued fraction, at home, that
represented the price of the three fillets on the menu board.
If Physfit could do this, anyone could do that too, right? Hehe :)

It was a pretty simple task, but still fun to do :) He turned off his
Aspire One mini laptop dedicated to DOS with qBASIC on it, and placed it
inside his backpack. Then on a hunch, he got it out and placed it on the
desk again!... He decided to upgrade to QB64, baby. And that was that.
It was time.

So Physfit began the process of installing Windows 10 on it, making sure
it was a pirated copy, not a paid for one. When the never ending process
began, he sat back and started to calculate the bill that he intended to
charge Microsoft for using up that much of his time.

He charged Microsoft for each millisecond of his time exactly $100. And
since the unbelievingly rude process took no less than 8 hours to get
finished with all the updates, etc, the bill charged to Microsoft came
to: $2,880,000,000.00 i.e. $2.88 billion.

He then used the KMS thingy and validated it and the Office that came
with it both.

Then someone knocked on his door. It was about 6 pm and none of those
power company salesmen would come this late to beg. So Physfit stood up
and went opened the door. It was Bill Gates, in his swimming suit,
who've gotten there the moment the news of installing a pirated Windows
had reached him.

Physfit: "Hmm... No wonder. You've got a camera up my cat's ass too?"

Gates: "Did you just fucking use one of my company's Windows 10
operating system without paying for it?"

Physfit: "Did I? Oh, I think I did. Here, this is the bill for my time
spent on doing that. Why don't you first suck it, then be a good
American citizen and pay it promptly." And he handed the piece of paper
to him.

Gates looked down on the bill then looked up and said,

Gates: "Make me!" He then turned toward his limousine and signaled to
someone inside, something.

Physfit reached behind the door and took the Mossberg leaning against
the wall and held it up straight towards Gate's face and racked it,
ready to deliver Texas logic. Then,

Physfit: "You Yankee Seattlite Mofo stand on my portico, in Texas, IN
DALLAS to be exact, and ask me for money for the piece of crap job that
took 8 hours of my life to even begin responding? Didn't your wife teach
a thing or two about Dallas?... Do 4 things for me, you spoiled mofo:

1. Kneel on the ground in front of me.
2. Place one of your eyes on the tip of this barrel and look inside.
3. Apologize for taking up 8 hours of my life's time, then knocking
on my door at 6 pm in swimming suit.
4. Pay the fucking bill you have in your hands. It is due NOW, and
it has your fucking first name on it; or, I'll blow your misapprehending
Yankee head off and Greg Abbott will only smile when he's told of it."

Gates understood the situation (he was good at that) and knelt down and
removed his ugly eyeglasses and began looking inside the barrel, holding
the bill in one hand and using his other hand trying to reach his
asshole, of all the things in the world for a man to do.

Physfit: "What are you doing behind you??..."

Gates: "I'm trying to get $3 Billion out of my ass; do you mind?"

Physfit: "I don't want to see such a Seattle act done in front of me.
Pay the bill later. You know fucking well what my bank account is, don't
you."

Bill Gates immediately jumped up and began running toward his limousine
while still covering his asshole tight with one hand, as if preventing
to get ass-fucked as well, on top of the whole thing.

So that was it.

Gates jumped inside the Limousine and darted away, and Physfit took a
look to the right and glanced at the magic mountain, then came in and
shut the door.

Without even looking, he pressed the little lever and racked again to
get the double-aught buckshot out and inserted it back in the magazine
tube below, held the gun downward, dry fired, then put the mighty
Mossberg back down where it always was, against the wall, and walked
back to his desk.

He installed QB64 phoenix edition, complete with Terry Ritchie's awesome
tutorial. And began studying the tutorial and doing the exercises on the
IDE.

"So much one-way love has gone into this..." Physfit thought to himself
as he read and did the tutorial. "The original 'Christianity' that these
cro-magnons call that version of Mithraism, can still be found if you
look hard. It isn't all gone... Hmm... I think it's probably impossible
for Mithraism to be all gone... What do you know."

He then continued, "And with all these features, it still enjoys
backward compatibility with all versions of BASIC of the past - could be
so even with the present ones." He wouldn't have to modify any of the
several little codes he'd recently written to test the usenet Bozos
with, and at the same time, forming a little library of useful little
codes of his own.

It got night, and with no prospect of Long John Silvers fish fillets and
coleslaw in sight for 48 hours, he went to bed with an empty stomach and
a head full of appreciation for QB64's mighty additional features, and
for that jewel of a tutorial.

Bed was still inside the livingroom, so as he watched the two skylights
on the ceiling, he reviewed what went on with Gate's visit, and he
thought to himself, "How long has it been that Americans have become so
immune to the abuses they get from their cutthroat businessmen? ..."

"Did it start with Reagan..., certainly not. They were already immune to
it for at least a couple of decades before Reagan's level of
outrageousness ensued."

He then continued, "Wasn't it in fact JFK that even worded it for them?
Hmm.. And the stupid morons loved that too! Yep, he was the one who
worded it first,

'Aks not why your country fucks you in the ass - Aks why your
country doesn't fuck you in the throat also.'

... right? Right! It was him. So Americans were already "American" by 1961."

He then fell asleep.

"What the...", he was at the drive-thru of Long John Silvers again!...
And better than that, he didn't even remember when was the last time
he'd had a meal. So why not! :-)

He looked up and scanned the menu board slowly, left and right, up and
down. "What the fuck is with it this time?.." He told to himself. It
took him a few seconds to understand the deal.

The prices were all double-or-none. You either paid double the prices
mentioned on the board, or paid nothing. But you had to give the sales
clerk the correct explanation of the relational logic that was written
beside each price, to get your order free. If you made a mistake in
that, you'd pay twice the price!

And the relational logic expressed for the three fish fillets deal was this:

A.....B
--------
1 IMP 0 = 0

Having already discussed, in another layer of cyberspace, such logical
relations in COLA as a result of something Farley had mentioned, he
confidently ordered his beloved three fish fillets and a huge side of
coleslaw and drove to the window. The clerk held her gadget out for
Physfit to speak into, and he spoke a succinct and yet correct meaning
of that relation in the English language to the gadget. She then took it
back inside, pressed a button, then placed the gadget down and gave the
order to him without asking for any money. Physfit smiled and drove back
home to enjoy it.

What did Physfit say to the gadget?

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak
She then took it
back inside, pressed a button, then placed the gadget down and gave the
order to him without asking for any money. Physfit smiled and drove back
home to enjoy it.
What did Physfit say to the gadget?

Problem was, as soon as he arrived and prepared to have his three fish
fillets and coleslaw, a cat stepped on the exposed side of his head and
sat on it and didn't budge, waking him up. He was still in bed, and Long
John Silvers meal that smelled so damn good right in front of him, was
nommo.

He told the cat without forcing her off, "Damn it, couldn't you at least
wait till I had one bite?..." It would still be another 24 hour of
waiting before the next meal.

He slowly turned to his left to get the cat off without tearing his face
up, as well as taking a look at the pendulum clock; yes it was waking
time anyway, so the cat knew what she was doing. He got up and thought,
"Well, I can have coffee at least, so it's not all pure loss."

Got his Beaumont Coffee Classic Roast out, the cheapest fucking coffee
to find both east and west of the Pecos, and measured the filtered water
just to make a third of the drip machine carafe filled with the terrific
fresh coffee. Filled a good-sized mug with it and went and sat with the
cats to drink.

"Ahah... I better check." He stood up and went to the window; yes, the
mountain was there. Anything could be up! He came back to enjoy the
cats' company. It was the black long haired's turn to sit on his lap,
and she sure knew it.

Coffee tasted right. She was not his own cat. She belonged to a neighbor
two houses away, but hadn't received enough attention and care from them
and was almost always outside, and almost always trying to get inside
Physfit's house when it was too cold or too hot or too rainy or too
windy. She did carry the old dirty collar indicating her name and proof
of rabies shot from two years back, but the state the collar was in
showed she'd perhaps been abandoned after that one-time proper care. So
Physfit had deservedly adopted her, and proof of that was the fact that
despite letting them know she was with him, when they at last left that
address they didn't even come to get her, or at least see their cat for
the last time. That, Physfit wouldn't allow a cat owner do, without
disowning them of the cat, in principle. So this wonderful, kind, and
patient cat was absolutely his, and he was absolutely hers.

This "sitting on his lap" while having coffee in the morning had become
a tradition. A routine. A cat thing. And not just for her; she had to
share the privilege with the white and gray tabby. One day her, next day
the other one. Luckily, none of the other cats were interested one bit
to sit on his lap. Male ones didn't generally do that anyway, and a
couple of female ones didn't even like him enough to do that. But all of
them still enjoyed his company at coffee time, and he enjoyed theirs.

Someone knocked on his door, he stood up and made sure his hair didn't
look like a mental case, then walked to the door and as it was the
finest of Texas tradition, opened it wide regardless of who it was at
the door. It was the mailman,

Mailman: "Dr. M.. you have a certified piece of mail, and guess who's
the sender!... :-)"

Physfit thinking, "Ahh crap... That 'Dr' shit again. Could it be that
those in school whose asses I burned 35 years back are now deliberately
using that prefix before my name in their snail mails to get even with
me?... It sure has made a wrong impression on the mailman." And continued,

Physfit "Thank you sir. Oh I see what you mean."

He signed the mailman's form and thanked him again and came back inside.

The letter or whatever it was, was from Bill Gates. "The son of a bitch
acts fast, don't he", Physfit thought. He opened the envelope and saw a
check for $2.88 Billion in it written to his name. How the fuck he knew
his real name was another matter. He Sat down with the cats again and
continued drinking his coffee, making sure cats don't sneeze on the
check or one of the male ones don't put their seal of approval to it;
pissing on it.

"Hmm... that hypothetical trick worked after all. Good that I
deliberately made the bill equal to the amount that those pervert IRS
thieves had forced me to pay."

So the matter of 2023 tax was in fact resolved. Might as well. God knew
how much money that Seattlite rude creature owed to millions who used
Windows. All those hours, all that time crassly stolen from them...

Was it the educational scenery down a Mossberg barrel that did the job,
or the name of Greg Abbott putting fear of the fucking god into that
Seattlite billionaire? Hard to know which one. Both could work quite
similarly.

In any case, Gates would now pay Physfit's debt to IRS! God worked in
mysterious ways indeed.

Coffee was finished, but he was still lingering there despite a zillion
chores he had to get busy with.

"Is there a way, while the magic mountain is there anyway, to change
layers of reality on demand?... Hmm... I wonder" he thought. "Why do I
have to wait until it happens by itself?... Is there a word, an act, a
sign, something, that I could use to trigger that change?"

"I did replenish my Walmart National Cup tea-bag on demand, didn't I.
And the can of sardines, the oxygen tank, anything I needed, while on
that mountain."

He decided to try a few things. But he needed to know towards what end.
So he thought a bit and decided he'd try to get himself at the menu
board of that crazy Long John Silvers again to get another chance to
have the formidable three fish fillets with a huge side of coleslaw. He
couldn't, of course, just drive there and get them. The day was not the
eating day for him. But getting there via another layer, could "imply" a
change in date too.

He first, of course, tried,

"Fuck that Pope The Penis X!"

But nothing happened. Probably worked only on the magic mountain. But he
knew such exclamations would require being originated out of the deepest
parts of logic and sanity in his mind. So he tried,

"Trump! Why does your wife look like she made her first step out of the
Siberian jungles just yesterday?"

"Hahhahhhahh :-)" Physfit couldn't help it after forming that image in
his mind. It really took a lot of stupidity in a man to fall for a woman
who looked that way, especially that permanent expression on her face.
Pure cro-magnon instinct, having to do with Jungles and cold as fuck
weathers, would be the cause.

But nothing happened regardless. He was still in the same layer. So,

"Lindsey Graham! Have you honestly ever outdone this one:

Loading Image...

in thinking?..."

Physfit certainly didn't think so. And it didn't work anyway. Perhaps it
was something about the fact that the real culprits were those who put
such characters up in those positions.

"Nah.. this type of statements won't get me there. Let's try COLA stuff."

"DFS! Fart for Mormonites! Be what you're made for."... nothing.

"RonB! Splash around some of that stuff you have in your Holy Grail
you're holding under Pope The Penis X's exposed penis, to bless COLA
members with THAT kind of benevolence." ... Still nothing.

"hh! Now that you've lowered yourself communication-wise to the level
you've actually been all your life, perhaps even born into, then you
know what to do. PAY MY DICK!"

BOOM!... Physfit was in his car, at Long John Silver's Drive-Thru!

But as before, he didn't know how he got there. No recollections of what
immediately preceded his being there. Especially, he didn't know when he
had last eaten. And he was hungry as hell, so... it sure "implied" he
hadn't eaten for days perhaps.

"Ok, let's see what's in store this time," Physfit thought as he looked
up at the menu board. It was still a double-or-nothing type of deal, and
there was a sign above the board now saying,

"Happy Ramanujan's Day!"

The menu items didn't share the same type of challenge this time. Each
item had its own different challenge now, having something to do with
Ramanujan's work. He wasn't interested in other items, so he just
studied the challenge for the three fish fillet with coleslaw deal. It
looked like a tough one. "The suckers have learned their lessons...
They're making it tougher and tougher for me." He thought.

The challenge stated,

"Give the Ramanujan's relation for PI that computes it correctly to
15 significant digits, and consists of nothing but two simple ratios,
one subtraction, one multiplication, and the numeral 1"

Physfit looked behind him to see if other cars were waiting. None were
there. So he got his Aspire One mini laptop with QB64 on it out of his
backpack and fired it up and began thinking where he should even begin
to think about such task. A minute or two passed. Could he program such
a wild, arbitrary set of conditions to somehow narrow it close enough to
the answer? It didn't look like it. That man, Ramanujan, was sure a
different kind of creature from what Physfit was. He indeed didn't know
where to begin.

"I've got to just look for it in Ramanujan's three-volume manuscripts
and hopefully stumble upon it inside that sea of numbers and relations
and hard to see scribblings. This shit is otherwise beyond me."

As hungry as he was, he still didn't want to pay double the price, so he
turned off his Aspire One mini Laptop with QB64 on it and put it back
inside his backpack, and drove back home to go through Ramanujan's
three-volume manuscripts that he'd downloaded from Anna's Archive some
time back. It resided on his other computer, the mighty S20 that was
still rocking after all the crap that had happened to it.

What was that relation for PI?

[Physfitfreak]

Post by Physfitfreak

 She then took it back inside, pressed a button, then placed the
gadget down and gave the order to him without asking for any money.
Physfit smiled and drove back home to enjoy it.
What did Physfit say to the gadget?

Problem was, as soon as he arrived and prepared to have his three fish
fillets and coleslaw, a cat stepped on the exposed side of his head and
sat on it and didn't budge, waking him up. He was still in bed, and Long
John Silvers meal that smelled so damn good right in front of him, was
nommo.
He told the cat without forcing her off, "Damn it, couldn't you at least
wait till I had one bite?..." It would still be another 24 hour of
waiting before the next meal.
He slowly turned to his left to get the cat off without tearing his face
up, as well as taking a look at the pendulum clock; yes it was waking
time anyway, so the cat knew what she was doing. He got up and thought,
"Well, I can have coffee at least, so it's not all pure loss."
Got his Beaumont Coffee Classic Roast out, the cheapest fucking coffee
to find both east and west of the Pecos, and measured the filtered water
just to make a third of the drip machine carafe filled with the terrific
fresh coffee. Filled a good-sized mug with it and went and sat with the
cats to drink.
"Ahah... I better check." He stood up and went to the window; yes, the
mountain was there. Anything could be up! He came back to enjoy the
cats' company. It was the black long haired's turn to sit on his lap,
and she sure knew it.
Coffee tasted right. She was not his own cat. She belonged to a neighbor
two houses away, but hadn't received enough attention and care from them
and was almost always outside, and almost always trying to get inside
Physfit's house when it was too cold or too hot or too rainy or too
windy. She did carry the old dirty collar indicating her name and proof
of rabies shot from two years back, but the state the collar was in
showed she'd perhaps been abandoned after that one-time proper care. So
Physfit had deservedly adopted her, and proof of that was the fact that
despite letting them know she was with him, when they at last left that
address they didn't even come to get her, or at least see their cat for
the last time. That, Physfit wouldn't allow a cat owner do, without
disowning them of the cat, in principle. So this wonderful, kind, and
patient cat was absolutely his, and he was absolutely hers.
This "sitting on his lap" while having coffee in the morning had become
a tradition. A routine. A cat thing. And not just for her; she had to
share the privilege with the white and gray tabby. One day her, next day
the other one. Luckily, none of the other cats were interested one bit
to sit on his lap. Male ones didn't generally do that anyway, and a
couple of female ones didn't even like him enough to do that. But all of
them still enjoyed his company at coffee time, and he enjoyed theirs.
Someone knocked on his door, he stood up and made sure his hair didn't
look like a mental case, then walked to the door and as it was the
finest of Texas tradition, opened it wide regardless of who it was at
the door. It was the mailman,
Mailman:  "Dr. M.. you have a certified piece of mail, and guess who's
the sender!... :-)"
Physfit thinking, "Ahh crap... That 'Dr' shit again. Could it be that
those in school whose asses I burned 35 years back are now deliberately
using that prefix before my name in their snail mails to get even with
me?... It sure has made a wrong impression on the mailman." And continued,
Physfit   "Thank you sir. Oh I see what you mean."
He signed the mailman's form and thanked him again and came back inside.
The letter or whatever it was, was from Bill Gates. "The son of a bitch
acts fast, don't he", Physfit thought. He opened the envelope and saw a
check for $2.88 Billion in it written to his name. How the fuck he knew
his real name was another matter. He Sat down with the cats again and
continued drinking his coffee, making sure cats don't sneeze on the
check or one of the male ones don't put their seal of approval to it;
pissing on it.
"Hmm... that hypothetical trick worked after all. Good that I
deliberately made the bill equal to the amount that those pervert IRS
thieves had forced me to pay."
So the matter of 2023 tax was in fact resolved. Might as well. God knew
how much money that Seattlite rude creature owed to millions who used
Windows. All those hours, all that time crassly stolen from them...
Was it the educational scenery down a Mossberg barrel that did the job,
or the name of Greg Abbott putting fear of the fucking god into that
Seattlite billionaire? Hard to know which one. Both could work quite
similarly.
In any case, Gates would now pay Physfit's debt to IRS! God worked in
mysterious ways indeed.
Coffee was finished, but he was still lingering there despite a zillion
chores he had to get busy with.
"Is there a way, while the magic mountain is there anyway, to change
layers of reality on demand?... Hmm... I wonder" he thought. "Why do I
have to wait until it happens by itself?... Is there a word, an act, a
sign, something, that I could use to trigger that change?"
"I did replenish my Walmart National Cup tea-bag on demand, didn't I.
And the can of sardines, the oxygen tank, anything I needed, while on
that mountain."
He decided to try a few things. But he needed to know towards what end.
So he thought a bit and decided he'd try to get himself at the menu
board of that crazy Long John Silvers again to get another chance to
have the formidable three fish fillets with a huge side of coleslaw. He
couldn't, of course, just drive there and get them. The day was not the
eating day for him. But getting there via another layer, could "imply" a
change in date too.
He first, of course, tried,
"Fuck that Pope The Penis X!"
But nothing happened. Probably worked only on the magic mountain. But he
knew such exclamations would require being originated out of the deepest
parts of logic and sanity in his mind. So he tried,
"Trump! Why does your wife look like she made her first step out of the
Siberian jungles just yesterday?"
"Hahhahhhahh :-)" Physfit couldn't help it after forming that image in
his mind. It really took a lot of stupidity in a man to fall for a woman
who looked that way, especially that permanent expression on her face.
Pure cro-magnon instinct, having to do with Jungles and cold as fuck
weathers, would be the cause.
But nothing happened regardless. He was still in the same layer. So,
https://i.postimg.cc/d3sLh3WX/Grahams-competitor.jpg
in thinking?..."
Physfit certainly didn't think so. And it didn't work anyway. Perhaps it
was something about the fact that the real culprits were those who put
such characters up in those positions.
"Nah.. this type of statements won't get me there. Let's try COLA stuff."
"DFS! Fart for Mormonites! Be what you're made for."... nothing.
"RonB! Splash around some of that stuff you have in your Holy Grail
you're holding under Pope The Penis X's exposed penis, to bless COLA
members with THAT kind of benevolence." ... Still nothing.
"hh! Now that you've lowered yourself communication-wise to the level
you've actually been all your life, perhaps even born into, then you
know what to do. PAY MY DICK!"
BOOM!... Physfit was in his car, at Long John Silver's Drive-Thru!
But as before, he didn't know how he got there. No recollections of what
immediately preceded his being there. Especially, he didn't know when he
had last eaten. And he was hungry as hell, so... it sure "implied" he
hadn't eaten for days perhaps.
"Ok, let's see what's in store this time," Physfit thought as he looked
up at the menu board. It was still a double-or-nothing type of deal, and
there was a sign above the board now saying,
       "Happy Ramanujan's Day!"
The menu items didn't share the same type of challenge this time. Each
item had its own different challenge now, having something to do with
Ramanujan's work. He wasn't interested in other items, so he just
studied the challenge for the three fish fillet with coleslaw deal. It
looked like a tough one. "The suckers have learned their lessons...
They're making it tougher and tougher for me." He thought.
The challenge stated,
   "Give the Ramanujan's relation for PI that computes it correctly to
15 significant digits, and consists of nothing but two simple ratios,
one subtraction, one multiplication, and the numeral 1"
Physfit looked behind him to see if other cars were waiting. None were
there. So he got his Aspire One mini laptop with QB64 on it out of his
backpack and fired it up and began thinking where he should even begin
to think about such task. A minute or two passed. Could he program such
a wild, arbitrary set of conditions to somehow narrow it close enough to
the answer? It didn't look like it. That man, Ramanujan, was sure a
different kind of creature from what Physfit was. He indeed didn't know
where to begin.
"I've got to just look for it in Ramanujan's three-volume manuscripts
and hopefully stumble upon it inside that sea of numbers and relations
and hard to see scribblings. This shit is otherwise beyond me."
As hungry as he was, he still didn't want to pay double the price, so he
turned off his Aspire One mini Laptop with QB64 on it and put it back
inside his backpack, and drove back home to go through Ramanujan's
three-volume manuscripts that he'd downloaded from Anna's Archive some
time back. It resided on his other computer, the mighty S20 that was
still rocking after all the crap that had happened to it.
What was that relation for PI?

So Physfit arrived home and directly went to his desk with the hope that
he'd somehow find the relation inside three volumes of relations and
equalities of all sorts!... After spending an hour or so looking page by
page, sometimes line by line, through just one of the manuscripts, he
sat back and breathed deep and thought it a bit of a stupid way to look
for a piece that was math, and therefore perhaps there would be better
ways for finding it.

So he decided to go back at again giving it a thought instead.

After a few minutes,

Physfit: "How the hell can one use the meaning of PI, ratio of circle
to its diameter, to calculate it with no less than 15 significant digits
of accuracy, using such a ridiculously limited number of options at his
disposal? ... If the challenge form of the relation didn't have seriies
here and series there, and at least didn't have some radicals in there
in it, then how in the fucking hell could one come up with a result that
accurate, with so little to use?... "

Truely, a relation only involving two simple fractions, a numeral 1, and
one multiplication and one subtraction between the three, and nothing
else to have, was extremely isufficient to yield such an accuracy in
calculation of PI. It would in fact require the knowledge of the unknown
beforehand to get to such relation. Only somone else had to come to you
and tell you that a relation like that exists. You could not find it
yourself.

And nobody in the entire world could come to you and make you aware of
the existence of such a relation, except this one man, Ramanujan. Nobody
before him and nobody after him. Only him.

Physfit had his manuscripts on the screen in front of him. So he
realized down to his bones that it required a Ramanujan to find it, and
he was no Ramanujan. So he began continuing through the manuscript, page
by page, line by line, in search of that relation.

By the time he at last spotted that jewel of a note, and checked the
accuracy, it was past midnight and Long John Silvers was closed, and the
next day would give him by all probability another challenge, not this one.

So it was three fish fillets and huge coleslaw, again nommo.

But he got to have an appreciation for the significance of that little
note, and the fact that only God knew how Ramanujan, before even he knew
of its existence, came to find it!

[%]

Post by Physfitfreak

Post by Physfitfreak

 She then took it back inside, pressed a button, then placed the
gadget down and gave the order to him without asking for any money.
Physfit smiled and drove back home to enjoy it.
What did Physfit say to the gadget?

Problem was, as soon as he arrived and prepared to have his three fish
fillets and coleslaw, a cat stepped on the exposed side of his head
and sat on it and didn't budge, waking him up. He was still in bed,
and Long John Silvers meal that smelled so damn good right in front of
him, was nommo.
He told the cat without forcing her off, "Damn it, couldn't you at
least wait till I had one bite?..." It would still be another 24 hour
of waiting before the next meal.
He slowly turned to his left to get the cat off without tearing his
face up, as well as taking a look at the pendulum clock; yes it was
waking time anyway, so the cat knew what she was doing. He got up and
thought, "Well, I can have coffee at least, so it's not all pure loss."
Got his Beaumont Coffee Classic Roast out, the cheapest fucking coffee
to find both east and west of the Pecos, and measured the filtered
water just to make a third of the drip machine carafe filled with the
terrific fresh coffee. Filled a good-sized mug with it and went and
sat with the cats to drink.
"Ahah... I better check." He stood up and went to the window; yes, the
mountain was there. Anything could be up! He came back to enjoy the
cats' company. It was the black long haired's turn to sit on his lap,
and she sure knew it.
Coffee tasted right. She was not his own cat. She belonged to a
neighbor two houses away, but hadn't received enough attention and
care from them and was almost always outside, and almost always trying
to get inside Physfit's house when it was too cold or too hot or too
rainy or too windy. She did carry the old dirty collar indicating her
name and proof of rabies shot from two years back, but the state the
collar was in showed she'd perhaps been abandoned after that one-time
proper care. So Physfit had deservedly adopted her, and proof of that
was the fact that despite letting them know she was with him, when
they at last left that address they didn't even come to get her, or at
least see their cat for the last time. That, Physfit wouldn't allow a
cat owner do, without disowning them of the cat, in principle. So this
wonderful, kind, and patient cat was absolutely his, and he was
absolutely hers.
This "sitting on his lap" while having coffee in the morning had
become a tradition. A routine. A cat thing. And not just for her; she
had to share the privilege with the white and gray tabby. One day her,
next day the other one. Luckily, none of the other cats were
interested one bit to sit on his lap. Male ones didn't generally do
that anyway, and a couple of female ones didn't even like him enough
to do that. But all of them still enjoyed his company at coffee time,
and he enjoyed theirs.
Someone knocked on his door, he stood up and made sure his hair didn't
look like a mental case, then walked to the door and as it was the
finest of Texas tradition, opened it wide regardless of who it was at
the door. It was the mailman,
Mailman:  "Dr. M.. you have a certified piece of mail, and guess who's
the sender!... :-)"
Physfit thinking, "Ahh crap... That 'Dr' shit again. Could it be that
those in school whose asses I burned 35 years back are now
deliberately using that prefix before my name in their snail mails to
get even with me?... It sure has made a wrong impression on the
mailman." And continued,
Physfit   "Thank you sir. Oh I see what you mean."
He signed the mailman's form and thanked him again and came back inside.
The letter or whatever it was, was from Bill Gates. "The son of a
bitch acts fast, don't he", Physfit thought. He opened the envelope
and saw a check for $2.88 Billion in it written to his name. How the
fuck he knew his real name was another matter. He Sat down with the
cats again and continued drinking his coffee, making sure cats don't
sneeze on the check or one of the male ones don't put their seal of
approval to it; pissing on it.
"Hmm... that hypothetical trick worked after all. Good that I
deliberately made the bill equal to the amount that those pervert IRS
thieves had forced me to pay."
So the matter of 2023 tax was in fact resolved. Might as well. God
knew how much money that Seattlite rude creature owed to millions who
used Windows. All those hours, all that time crassly stolen from them...
Was it the educational scenery down a Mossberg barrel that did the
job, or the name of Greg Abbott putting fear of the fucking god into
that Seattlite billionaire? Hard to know which one. Both could work
quite similarly.
In any case, Gates would now pay Physfit's debt to IRS! God worked in
mysterious ways indeed.
Coffee was finished, but he was still lingering there despite a
zillion chores he had to get busy with.
"Is there a way, while the magic mountain is there anyway, to change
layers of reality on demand?... Hmm... I wonder" he thought. "Why do I
have to wait until it happens by itself?... Is there a word, an act, a
sign, something, that I could use to trigger that change?"
"I did replenish my Walmart National Cup tea-bag on demand, didn't I.
And the can of sardines, the oxygen tank, anything I needed, while on
that mountain."
He decided to try a few things. But he needed to know towards what
end. So he thought a bit and decided he'd try to get himself at the
menu board of that crazy Long John Silvers again to get another chance
to have the formidable three fish fillets with a huge side of
coleslaw. He couldn't, of course, just drive there and get them. The
day was not the eating day for him. But getting there via another
layer, could "imply" a change in date too.
He first, of course, tried,
"Fuck that Pope The Penis X!"
But nothing happened. Probably worked only on the magic mountain. But
he knew such exclamations would require being originated out of the
deepest parts of logic and sanity in his mind. So he tried,
"Trump! Why does your wife look like she made her first step out of
the Siberian jungles just yesterday?"
"Hahhahhhahh :-)" Physfit couldn't help it after forming that image in
his mind. It really took a lot of stupidity in a man to fall for a
woman who looked that way, especially that permanent expression on her
face. Pure cro-magnon instinct, having to do with Jungles and cold as
fuck weathers, would be the cause.
But nothing happened regardless. He was still in the same layer. So,
https://i.postimg.cc/d3sLh3WX/Grahams-competitor.jpg
in thinking?..."
Physfit certainly didn't think so. And it didn't work anyway. Perhaps
it was something about the fact that the real culprits were those who
put such characters up in those positions.
"Nah.. this type of statements won't get me there. Let's try COLA stuff."
"DFS! Fart for Mormonites! Be what you're made for."... nothing.
"RonB! Splash around some of that stuff you have in your Holy Grail
you're holding under Pope The Penis X's exposed penis, to bless COLA
members with THAT kind of benevolence." ... Still nothing.
"hh! Now that you've lowered yourself communication-wise to the level
you've actually been all your life, perhaps even born into, then you
know what to do. PAY MY DICK!"
BOOM!... Physfit was in his car, at Long John Silver's Drive-Thru!
But as before, he didn't know how he got there. No recollections of
what immediately preceded his being there. Especially, he didn't know
when he had last eaten. And he was hungry as hell, so... it sure
"implied" he hadn't eaten for days perhaps.
"Ok, let's see what's in store this time," Physfit thought as he
looked up at the menu board. It was still a double-or-nothing type of
deal, and there was a sign above the board now saying,
        "Happy Ramanujan's Day!"
The menu items didn't share the same type of challenge this time. Each
item had its own different challenge now, having something to do with
Ramanujan's work. He wasn't interested in other items, so he just
studied the challenge for the three fish fillet with coleslaw deal. It
looked like a tough one. "The suckers have learned their lessons...
They're making it tougher and tougher for me." He thought.
The challenge stated,
    "Give the Ramanujan's relation for PI that computes it correctly
to 15 significant digits, and consists of nothing but two simple
ratios, one subtraction, one multiplication, and the numeral 1"
Physfit looked behind him to see if other cars were waiting. None were
there. So he got his Aspire One mini laptop with QB64 on it out of his
backpack and fired it up and began thinking where he should even begin
to think about such task. A minute or two passed. Could he program
such a wild, arbitrary set of conditions to somehow narrow it close
enough to the answer? It didn't look like it. That man, Ramanujan, was
sure a different kind of creature from what Physfit was. He indeed
didn't know where to begin.
"I've got to just look for it in Ramanujan's three-volume manuscripts
and hopefully stumble upon it inside that sea of numbers and relations
and hard to see scribblings. This shit is otherwise beyond me."
As hungry as he was, he still didn't want to pay double the price, so
he turned off his Aspire One mini Laptop with QB64 on it and put it
back inside his backpack, and drove back home to go through
Ramanujan's three-volume manuscripts that he'd downloaded from Anna's
Archive some time back. It resided on his other computer, the mighty
S20 that was still rocking after all the crap that had happened to it.
What was that relation for PI?

So Physfit arrived home and directly went to his desk with the hope that
he'd somehow find the relation inside three volumes of relations and
equalities of all sorts!... After spending an hour or so looking page by
page, sometimes line by line, through just one of the manuscripts, he
sat back and breathed deep and thought it a bit of a stupid way to look
for a piece that was math, and therefore perhaps there would be better
ways for finding it.
So he decided to go back at again giving it a thought instead.
After a few minutes,
Physfit:  "How the hell can one use the meaning of PI, ratio of circle
to its diameter, to calculate it with no less than 15 significant digits
of accuracy, using such a ridiculously limited number of options at his
disposal? ... If the challenge form of the relation didn't have seriies
here and series there, and at least didn't have some radicals in there
in it, then how in the fucking hell could one come up with a result that
accurate, with so little to use?... "
Truely, a relation only involving two simple fractions, a numeral 1, and
one multiplication and one subtraction between the three, and nothing
else to have, was extremely isufficient to yield such an accuracy in
calculation of PI. It would in fact require the knowledge of the unknown
beforehand to get to such relation. Only somone else had to come to you
and tell you that a relation like that exists. You could not find it
yourself.
And nobody in the entire world could come to you and make you aware of
the existence of such a relation, except this one man, Ramanujan. Nobody
before him and nobody after him. Only him.
Physfit had his manuscripts on the screen in front of him. So he
realized down to his bones that it required a Ramanujan to find it, and
he was no Ramanujan. So he began continuing through the manuscript, page
by page, line by line, in search of that relation.
By the time he at last spotted that jewel of a note, and checked the
accuracy, it was past midnight and Long John Silvers was closed, and the
next day would give him by all probability another challenge, not this one.
So it was three fish fillets and huge coleslaw, again nommo.
But he got to have an appreciation for the significance of that little
note, and the fact that only God knew how Ramanujan, before even he knew
of its existence, came to find it!

who takes time to read all this

[Physfitfreak]

Post by %
who takes time to read all this

Those who matter.

[rbowman]

Post by Physfitfreak
What did Physfit say to the gadget?