The most surprising thing about not wanting to be alive is how matter-of-fact it feels.
When I was 19 I tried to kill myself. These words conjure the image of an angst-ridden teenager penning a lengthy suicide note. "Farewell, cruel world!", she moans dramatically. And after dabbing away one final tear she ends it all.
Since MySQL doesn't support geospatial transformations ( or most other useful features ), it may become necessary to do the transformation manually.
After installing the excellent GDAL, I was able to run the following ogr2ogr command:
ogr2ogr -s_srs EPSG:4269 -t_srs EPSG:4326 -f MySQL MYSQL:db,user=user,password=secret,host=host MYSQL:db,user=user,password=secret,host=host,tables=table_name -nln table_name_new -overwrite -lco GEOMETRY_NAME=geo -lco MYSQL_FID=geo_data_fid
There's an age-old parable that goes something like this:
There once was a little red hen who lived on a farm. The hen's friends were a little black dog, a big orange cat, and a little yellow goose. One day, the red hen found some grains of wheat. "I can make bread from this," thought the red hen.
The little red hen asked, "Who will help me plant the wheat?"
"Not I," said the little black dog.
"Not I," said the big orange cat.
"Not I," said the little yellow goose.
"Then I will do it myself," said the little red hen. And she planted the wheat without any help at all.
svn propset svn:keywords Id [YOUR FILE(s)] Enough.
Enough of the martyrdom. Enough of the escapist bullshit. You're not old, you're not redundant, but the shadows are lengthening you're starting to sound vaguely familiar.
Yes, you aligned yourself with vampires and shysters. Yes, you underestimated the good of humanity. Sure, he shunned you mid-sentence, but this need not be an prediction of things to come.
You have not learned to inspire. Learn to inspire. You are too busy mourning your broken, phony alliances to recognize your supporters. You are waiting for smoke signals that were never meant for you, while you let your own embers fade into an uneasy dusk. You tell yourself that you have chosen your path, yet why do you choose to sit there and do nothing day in and day out?
Just found this handy trick to use screen instead of minicom/zterm/etc. to access serial console (Serial cable plugged into my OS X powerbook via a Keyspan serial-to-usb device)
screen /dev/tty.Keyserial1 115200
screen is the best utility ever written by a human being.
Tonight, the video clerk smiled in recognition and jumped to the counter to greet me as I returned my videos. I'm officially a regular. "Hey!" he offered, "aren't you going to pick up something else?".
Instead, I went off on a late night expedition to my local construction site. A guard waved his hand as I strolled past him. I clearly had noplace to go but the site, but I guess that's the beauty of looking harmless yet pleasant. I tipped my hat, flashed a smile and kept walking.
There's an enormous pit where they are building a parking ramp, or perhaps the foundation for another apartment building. I scrambled along the rim of the eroding sandy pit, occasionally stopping to shake the rocks out of my ancient Birkenstocks.
It turns out that EVFILT_VNODE watches only files and directories, and is limited to 255 of them in one shot. EVFILT_FS is only cognizant of mount/unmount activities on e.g. NFS filesystems.
I'm getting closer to what I want to find, but curse all Linux users and their array of choices for clustered network filesystems!
Now back to your regularly scheduled silence.
After spending the day crunching through my egregiously late invoice situation, I wanted to get my mail into circulation first thing Monday morning. The foolproof way of doing this is to drive to the main post office Downtown.
OK, so here's how out of balance I am: it didn't even occur to me that I might have a problem navigating the Downtown streets on a mail errand at 11:30 on a Saturday night!
Thousands of 22 year olds dressed to the nines, enjoying a humid night out. Women dressed in their obligatory halter top and wide-belted low-rise ensembles, followed by guys slouching through the streets in ultra-pressed shirts left deliberately untucked. If you smoke, you'll find yourself trapped in an adult-sized pen on the street outside of a hot nightclub, sharing your personal space with perspiring partiers.