SOHO's Latest While Steampunkin' Across the Universe

Since fiddling about over the networks during the last year, I have become rather fascinated with various gadgetry - specifically steampunk apparati.

I first realized the greatness of steampunk stuff in the Victorian style from Aardvarks and Asshats with Soylent Green contributions. Since then, it's been almost an obsession for me. For a better idea of steampunk, check out Abney Park and The Wild, Wild West (in French dub).

Here is one. The laptop calculator.





















































There is more about this cool cat daddy-o (and other stuff) over at Datamancer.

Also, on my intergalactic journey I passed by this large gaseous orb (Sun).


















The Sun at 13:00 hours, April 14, 2010

Observation: Magnetic conveyor still seems to be dragging behind the expected solar schedule of scientist who are at least very much smarter than I. Speculation is that this solar activity delay has put the planning of the much anticipated End of the World beyond the previously understood date of December 21, 2012.

The last days will now be postponed a few years (100 to be exact); December 21, 2112.

This is a good thing. The musical overture has already been written, because the Meek Shall Inherit the Earth...just sayin'.

We've taken care of everything
The words you hear, the songs you sing
The pictures that give pleasure to your eyes
It's one for all and all for one
We work together, common sons
Never need to wonder how or why

We are the Priests of the Temples of Syrinx
Our great computers fill the hallowed halls
We are the Priests, of the Temples of Syrinx
All the gifts of life are held within our walls

Look around at this world we've made
Equality our stock in trade
Come and join the Brotherhood of Man
Oh, what a nice, contented world
Let the banners be unfurled
Hold the Red Star proudly high in hand

We are the Priests of the Temples of Syrinx
Our great computers fill the hallowed halls
We are the Priests, of the Temples of Syrinx
All the gifts of life are held within our walls

Rush 2112

Or, if you prefer...Shakespearean Entropy

DARK hills at evening in the west,
Where sunset hovers like a sound
Of golden horns that sang to rest
Old bones of warriors under ground,
Far now from all the bannered ways
Where flash the legions of the sun,
You fade—as if the last of days
Were fading, and all wars were done

I don't know. Work has my mind in bondage. Two weeks worth of mental incarceration has me a little punchy.

Punchy, indeed.