Q is for quit now, you loser

I wish Word had libraries, like Quark's. The clipboard viewing thing is okay, but libraries are really cool when you have elements you're going to use a lot, such as captions, headings, text references to figures. And they persist across sessions, which is cool.

I'd also like to know why I can't install the fax program. That really suxxorz. I don't often send faxes but having to go to the post office when I want to sucks buttocks.

Actually, I wish I was actually computer literate. It would be cool to know what programs I could get (begging, borrowing or stealing without infesting my machine with trojans and rootkits), how to set them up and how to get the best out of them. But I'm of the wrong generation and temperament.

***

I do not know what a cosine is. So what? Lots of people don't. Most people don't. I have no reason to know it, by which I mean I have no use for knowing it. I have a reason in the other sense, because I studied cosines at school.

But I cannot remember at all what it is. I know it has something to do with angles, the relationship between lines, but I don't know what.

I can look it up and I probably will, but in six months, I think I won't remember again.

I find it odd that it's disappeared so utterly. I'm mildly curious whether I lost it to E or weed, but I don't know whether your brain works like that. You must store knowledge somewhere in it but does it lack redundancy? You are supposed to forget when you age. Maybe you just forget because you re-use the neurons for something else. I am probably destroying all my hardwon knowledge of wheat with poker.

Thinking about poker makes me sigh, because you really do pump your head full of it, and it would be so much better for me to have a hundred things about poker that I know, rather than a thousand things I might know. I should sit down and figure out what those hundred things are, and be sure that I really do know them.

It's not my way though. I've never been systematic. I jackdaw knowledge to the extent that I have no idea what I know and what I don't know. Which can be frustrating.

Cosine
1. In a right triangle, the ratio of the length of the side adjacent to an acute angle to the length of the hypotenuse.


Adjacent over hypotenuse. Now it all floods back. It's the ratio of the line that makes the angle with the hypoteneuse to the hypotenuse.

2. The abscissa at the endpoint of an arc of a unit circle centered at the origin of a Cartesian coordinate system, the arc being of length x and measured counterclockwise from the point (1, 0) if x is positive or clockwise if x is negative.

wat

I actually know what this is, but that paragraph makes my head hurt. I say "know what it is" but that's an exaggeration for "have a vague clue what it is".

I used to be able to differentiate and integrate too, but you know, don't even ask. Sometimes I feel I should relearn this shit, but what would I do with it? What do I do with anything I know though?

***

I've been listening to a lot of new music recently, in particular Jega, Frog Pocket, Remarc and Flying Lotus. (And a lot more besides, but that, and I suppose Shitmat, is what's found its way onto heavy rotation.)

Jega is IDM in a mu-Ziq vein, often upbeat techno, some glitchy stuff and some mutant dnb. Frog Pocket is lovely, pastoral IDM, which I wish I could get more of. I have Gonglot and it's a tremendous grower. Once you "get it", you listen to it and then you want to listen all over again. Some of it is lovely, stately and weird, but not weird in that unlistenable way some experimental music is (it's quite loveable, and I defy anyone to love Quaristice, for example--or even like it much, actually, since it sounds like a bunch of tapes picked up from the studio floor, polished off and passed off as fully made music tracks). Remarc is proto-dnb, back from the day when it was still jungle. It's technical and clever: essential for the Amenaholic, which I confess to being. Flying Lotus is the kind of music that gets described as underground hiphop, but that gives entirely the wrong impression. It's basically IDM approached from a hiphop angle. If you were thinking Prefuse 73 with a Warp vibe, you are in the ballpark. It's of a rare quality, the kind of stuff that has you stopping midsong and saying to yourself, how fucking good is that?

Shitmat is of course Shitmat. High-speed, high-voltage cartoon breakcore. It's totally in your face but loveable, if that makes sense.

***

How the fuck am I yet again 71 of 75 in a 4/180? I should be good enough to win these from time to time but mostly I finish 60th. I do play tight in MTTs, but not excessively so AFAIK. More of a problem is that I'll play well for two hours and then have a fugue, a period in which I outfish the fish and blow it. I don't think I'll get the opportunity in this one. I will just shove a decent hand, get called by something bad, and watch in horror as something bad turns into unbeatable trips.

Meh meh meh. 69/73. It looks better but it's exactly the same. Eighteen get paid. Luckily, I'm playing it with T$ I won in a $2 satellite, so basically it's a freeroll. 66/70. I will be 60th at best. I push A3 from small blind, then KQs from button. 63/69. Onwards, upwards, mes braves.

***

Damon Albarn thinks kids should be made to learn to read music. Yeah right. Actually, I can pretty much read music but I can't play a note. Guess which skill I wish I'd been taught and which one I have no use for at all?

Osama's driver gets "light" sentence. I don't consider what has happened to this guy "light". Okay, he picked the wrong guy to be chauffeur for, but since when was driving someone around a war crime? If it was, a lot of taxi drivers in Washington would be best off not going anywhere near the Hague.

Talking of war, heeeeeeere's Putin. Of all the things man has invented, nations have to be one of the most miserable. What shitty ideas to die for they are. Not that there are all that many good ideas to die for.

Although, having said that, I was struck by a thought. I consider loss of life a terrible thing, but when I have lost mine, I will not even know about it. (Yes, I know, that's not the deepest philosophical statement.) But I wonder how big a step it is from realising that to finding war thrilling to take part in. What does it matter that you risk dying young? Only pain will matter to you really. And pain is hard to be really scared of if you have never felt it. Getting shot must hurt, but you can't know that it hurts in that particular way unless you've been shot before.

(I snapped off a couple of minbet bluffs in a hand that I paired on the pot and now I'm 53/63. Admit it: you're starting to care.)

I have no problem with willing combatants killing each other. I suppose that it's morally depraved to kill someone, but if you're both up for it, I'm unclear what the moral crime would be. I don't consider someone who kills another in the boxing ring to be a murderer after all. If we could set aside space for those who want to fight to fight, that would be civilised enough for me. It's the involvement of the rest of us that bothers me. Give Al Qaida and the patriots of America swords and spears and let them have at it. There's plenty of open space in Australia. They can get it on here. We could sell tickets.

(I shoved QQ over a minraise. Minraiser called with 88. Unbelievably, the bitches held up. 29/61. Woot. I'll still be 60th though. The only way I won't be is we get down to 59 before I can do something stupid.)


I think we should find something else to call gays than "gay". Then we can dissociate the meaning of "gay" that is something like "limp", "unmanly" from the one that is something like "fucks men or would like to" and this chick's song will no longer be offensive. Not that anyone seems all that offended. Even Peter Tatchell, who finds something to be offended at in practically every waking hour, isn't that bothered. He prefers to fulminate against ragga stars. I'm not suggesting anything, but Tatchell is an Aussie and ragga stars are mostly black. It's up to you if you want to join the dots.

***

My cursor disappeared for a while. I don't know why it does that. I am 30/55, playing well. I folded KQ in the SB to a raise, which most people won't do, but I don't like playing easily dominated hands OOP, and stole the blinds with 99. So I'm in fairly decent shape, with 15BB at t200.

***

What should I do? Mrs Zen's laptop died. My laptop guy fixed it but the fix didn't last. I think it's actually gone to laptop heaven now, although I could fix it again. I have some tax rebate money though, and it's burning a hole in my pocket.

Should I a/ buy Mrs Zen a cheapo laptop; if so, which? I hear Vista won't run well on a gig of RAM and you can't get machines with XP for cheap, b/ buy myself a new lappy, resolving my lack of DVD drive, c/ buy something second hand for Mrs Zen and risk another breakdown with little use, but lose less if Naughtyman gives it the water torture, d/ spend a bit more and get something not flash but able to run Vista well or with XP? Answers on a postcard.

(J4 in the BB, I flop trip 4s. Button bets, I call. He bets again turn, I raise, and we get it in on the river. He has a pair and doubles me up. His play stinks: a/ limping 9 high from the button is awful and b/ when I call on flop, betting turn is dubious, calling raise terrible. 11/48. Go on, you really are caring. Don't rush to the end to find out what happens! I steal blinds with AKs, 12/43.)

***

Meh, I foresee problems with this guy's book, which will probably make my editing moot. Not that I care about that as a result: I get paid whatever. But it would have been a lot easier if it had been sorted out earlier.

My guy has been a lot of help. He's basically just got on with it with much less fuss than I expected (some, but not a bundle), and he's done quite a bit. I still have a dreary slog ahead but I hope not to have too much left on when my sister gets here next week.

Shit, for reasons known only to itself my poker table won't pop up when I have to act. Something is interfering with it, but I don't know what: this window, Word, the PDFs I had open, my HUD. See? I told you I wished I was computer literate. In the normal run of things, you just use the tool and it's not problematic. Just occasionally, it's a real PITA because something goes wrong that you can't readily fix. And having to minimise everything just to fold my hand is really annoying. Maybe I need to have the table minimised? I'll try that.

Yep, seems to have worked. Pity I've gone card dead though. 18/36.

***

Jeez, so card dead. Shoved 72 BvB. Always nice to win with the worst cards.

They say cards don't matter in poker, but I think you have to be a lot better at it than I am for that to be true. They matter a lot to me. 22/26 and it's going to be tough to sneak into the money. The rare times I don't finish 60th, I'm often 21st, just out of the money, because I don't play to cash, baybee, I play to win. Curiously, that approach has never led to, erm, winning. But it does in theory.

Theory! I have tons of the fuckers. But life conspires to deny me experience. It's the same with writing. Write what you know, they say. But what I know wouldn't fill a novel, at least not an interesting one.

I've now played one hand out of 25, and that was 72. 20/24 at the second break and praying for rain in the form of aces.

***

Southern Spice is the best Indian restaurant in Brisbane by so far that second is not even in the same race. But it doesn't deliver. And I can't spare the time to drive there to pick up. How sad is that?

Brisbane sucks for vegetarians. There are no decent Mexicans. I sometimes eat from Pepes, but it's horribly bland. (76s in the BB, limped to me, I check. QT8 flop with two of my suit. Button bets and I CRAI to make him fold. 13/22. I thought I was going to be 23rd there but with 13 outs and fold equity you've got to try to take down a 3.6K pot.) It doesn't deliver either. Indian food is usually bland here. Southern Spice isn't, and it's usually packed with Indians on account of that. (It's always a good sign that an Indian is patronised by Indians, because they are choosy about food ime.) Chinese here either don't know or don't care what vegetarian means. Traditional Australian cuisine does not involve vegetables other than carrots or peas and modern Australian is legendary for being inedible. Italian would be good if I lived in Melbourne, but I don't. You'd think it would be impossible to fuck up Italian but they manage.

I fancy a mutter paneer. Perhaps Mrs Zen can be inveigled into fetching one. Perhaps I will take a break. M is supposed to be coming to pick up Mrs Z's car (he borrows it most weekends because his died). Maybe take a break when he comes.

Which reminds me. I need to flog myself to do more of this book. I can't fall behind the pace.

A BvB shove with J4 two out of the money takes balls. I have them. I did it again from the button with AQs. But the third time, AT in the cutoff, I passed. The BB had 27K to my 8K. He's liable to call out of sheer annoyance, and even if I'm ahead, I'll get sucked out on way too often for comfort. 14/20. Two hands later I pick up AJ. Can't fold that. Arrrrrrin. 13/20.

Woot. Aces in the BB. SOMEONE PLEASE PUSH! Nah. But some guy raised to 4x on button and gave it up when I shoved over. 10/19. Teh bubble!

Meh. Had to double up shorty with 74s. He had AK. He minraised but left so little behind that I had to get it in with him. No luck there. Meh. Hate it when you're left wishing you had folded and saved the chips.

Woot! Money. 12/18 and 8.84 in teh bank! Fine reward for more than two hours' work. Got to make final table of 9 to make more money than that.

Shove 66 over two limpers. One with KQ calls. MHIG. 5/15.

QJ in BB. Q high flop. Guy bets, I call. Turn is a blank. He bets again, I call. River is a J. He bets, I raise decently (actually, just short of putting him all in but I didn't realise that). He calls. He had made two purrrr on the turn but obviously a worse one. 1/13. Yeah baybee!

Boo. JJ. 4x raise. I call. He shoves rag flop. QQ. I lose monster pot but that's just the way it goes sometimes. Lucky one hand, not so lucky the next. 7/10. I shove A4 over two limpers. All fold.

FT. Pay boost. I have AA first hand. I raise 3x. Guy from previous hand repops. I call. Flop is J high. I shove over his cbet and he calls with KK. BOOM! Someone say swings and roundabouts ftw. 2/9 and I smell money. Run hot D, run hot!

2/7 at the break. This is what's scary about poker tourneys. I've played really well, without needing to be too lucky (a bit here, a bit there). I've won 25 dollars so far, but top prize is 216. (I know, it's not enough to retire on.) I've never won a 4/180 (haven't played that many, tbh) and would sure like to. I have a decent chance: no one else at this table looks to have any clue how to play an FT.

Nice. 88. I call raise. Flop is rags. He bets, I raise, he calls. I shove turn. He folds and says he has AK. Yes, I know. His betting gave it away. 1/6.

Beat guy's AK again. He whines about it, but frankly, if he'd shoved pre, I would have folded my Q9s. 1/5.

Down to 4 and fishes limping left, right and centre. I need some cards to wreak some havoc with.

Chit. Threehanded and fish calls raise and cbet with AK. She claims to have paired her Q on the river. Sigh. 3/3. That hurt.

Actually, it really hurts playing fish and losing with my only decent hand. They limp into everything, and call everything, so stealing is very hand. But we're deep (I have 30BB at t2000) so plenty of time to make a hand and double again.

Although it won't happen if the fish keep hitting flops. The CL has had an unbelievable array of big hands, none of which she has raised.

FUCK. A8. I hit an A on the flop and bet. Fish calls. I bet again turn, he calls again. River pairs the board. I bet, he shoves. I have to call. Yes, he called me down with middle pair and made trips on the river. That's how it goes with the fishies. Third for 86 dollars. Any other card but a K or 9 comes on the river, I would have been second, and almost certain to win. Sigh.

posted by Dr Zen @ 3:59 pm