<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3704638697496579986</id><updated>2012-02-16T05:35:08.872-08:00</updated><category term='games'/><category term='copyright'/><category term='tech'/><category term='me'/><category term='people'/><category term='school'/><category term='funny'/><category term='boston'/><category term='movies'/><title type='text'>melancholy envy rage</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3704638697496579986/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>MER</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06693220242162040421</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>5</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3704638697496579986.post-5601735600904028007</id><published>2009-12-07T15:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T16:11:01.293-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stranger Danger</title><content type='html'>Today I had the single creepiest thing happen to me ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was walking down a very busy street on Beacon Hill. Broad daylight. Some people, including myself, are waiting to cross a side street. This group includes myself, and a man we'll call Mr. Purple. Mr. Purple because that is the color of the woman's coat he is wearing. Now I could just as well have named him Mr. Second-hand-knitted-floppy-hat, or Mr. filthy-lime-green-scarf, but they just don't have the same ring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;coming out of the side street arrives a pickup truck. This would be nothing out of the ordinary, had the driver not begun honking furiously, before both occupants flip Mr. Purple the bird, make the turn, and disappear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm left thinking to myself: sure he has worse fashion sense than Helen Keller in a good will store, but hey, there are plenty of people around who don't exactly read Vogue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, lead by your intrepid narrator, Mr. Purple, Innocent Bystander, and her dog, crossed the street. Nothing exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, as not to be late, I am walking fairly fast. About a block later, I get the undeniable sense of someone being in my bubble. You know the feeling. I slow down to let this person pass me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the point where this story starts being the creepiest encounter of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Purple slows down too. I know it's Mr. Purple because he's walking directly beside me staring into my ear. So I slow down even more. We're now moving at a speed outside of the 95th percentile of pedestrian speeds. He doesn't get the hint. So I stop dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do my best to compress "Get away from me, creep" into a simple "Hi", but not so much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we start walking again. Along the most unsettling block of my life. It becomes more awkward at the end as I have to make a left turn across his path. Which I do with my ninja skills. I decide to give it half a block before I look back. I make eye contact with Innocent Bystander, who gives me a look like 'wtf?'. No sign of Mr. Purple. Now, it should also be noted that this too is a well traveled street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe fifteen seconds later, my bubble sense is tingling again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Purple is standing inches from my left shoulder. I will never forget the following utterance: "I just want to say, you have a nice chest." Now, this might be an altogether forgettable utterance if I wasn't a guy, or even if I had some nice pecs or something. Or if he didn't reach over and give my sternum a nice rub.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What. The. Fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what I said when I pushed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, since he's just an ordinary creeper, he walked away like no street harassment had happened.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know what to think about this, other than I really hope it doesn't happen again. If I carried it, I would have maced him right there. I can't really think of another time that anyone has ever invaded my personal space like that. I dont even know if it was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sexual&lt;/span&gt; harassment or just garden variety harassment. It's about a hundred times creepier if it's the former.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talk about things that make you go 'buhhh'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3704638697496579986-5601735600904028007?l=melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com/feeds/5601735600904028007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com/2009/12/stranger-danger.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3704638697496579986/posts/default/5601735600904028007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3704638697496579986/posts/default/5601735600904028007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com/2009/12/stranger-danger.html' title='Stranger Danger'/><author><name>MER</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06693220242162040421</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3704638697496579986.post-8117083261365917192</id><published>2009-11-15T06:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T07:18:11.406-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday morning chemistry</title><content type='html'>1. Max buys a coffee at Finagle a Bagel, which comes in a cup of size 214 ml. The cup is filled with 190 ml of black coffee at 80 degrees C (container A). Max then adds 10 ml of light cream. However, when adding sugar to his coffee, the sugar container bursts open, dumping 400 g of sucrose into Max's coffee, potentially displacing some. The employees courteously give Max a new cup of coffee, with the same volumes and temperature (container B).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a. Bagged white sugar has a density of 700kg/m^3. What volume, if any, of coffee was displaced due to sugar containment failure?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;b. Given your answer to a, and the temperature of the coffee, what is the current sugar-coffee solution in the first cup of coffee? You may treat black coffee as distilled water for your calculations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;c. Given your answer to b, if max fills container A to the top with coffee from container B, stirs it as to homogenize the mixture, and then pours the mixture from container B back into container A, how many times will Max have to repeat this process until the concentration of sugar in container B reaches that of container A, if ever? Remember the pile of undissolved sugar that may or may not be at the bottom of container A.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3704638697496579986-8117083261365917192?l=melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com/feeds/8117083261365917192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com/2009/11/sunday-morning-chemistry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3704638697496579986/posts/default/8117083261365917192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3704638697496579986/posts/default/8117083261365917192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com/2009/11/sunday-morning-chemistry.html' title='Sunday morning chemistry'/><author><name>MER</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06693220242162040421</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3704638697496579986.post-6764688479180426942</id><published>2009-10-18T18:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T18:11:38.030-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boston'/><title type='text'>you never cease to amaze me</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago I arrived in Boston, in order to start my Junior year at a university downtown. So far, life in the city has been interesting and exciting. The thing that makes it all the more interesting, is the people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.Sitting on the T, I was situated across from a very gothed out young lady. Who buzzed her lips for the whole 15 minutes I was there. At peace with war with  the world. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Bththththththththththththththththththththththth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Another woman, pretty young, standing in an ally, staring at a brick wall. Not looking distressed, just interested. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Stark, yet beautiful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.Gave  a spare slice of apple pie to a homeless man, who repaid me with dating advice. They then prodeded to invite me to a church social the next day. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Da onez that all dressed up sexy n shit, lookin like they got a man, deys da one lookin fo a man.Yo know what im sayin man? Just you rememba that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.Didn't give money to a homeless man with a sign reading “I'm not a pathological liar, need money to get drunk” &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You made me chuckle, honest man, but I still don't have spare change for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.Multiple people warning passers by of the coming apocalypse. S&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;o what'll it be this time? Angels? Fire? Ice?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.Walking 4 blocks, I overheard the word 'nigger' at least 6 times. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Please. What? Flip. Stole my shshi?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.There's a woman across the street from my apartment every day, with a stick, with a homemade headdress, a number of plastic bags, with several pages of text written in permanent marker placed around her person. The only phrase I have been able to make out is 'Irish people”. This woman  is black. I'd love to stop and read it all, but that would mean I would have to give away change that I don't have.&lt;br /&gt;8.A woman pushing her kids in a stroller, wearing a sandwich board, full on both sides, about how much Jesus loves me and that I can convert any time.&lt;br /&gt;9.An elderly man opening a can of red bull, emptying it into a trash can, then throwing the can into the same can. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You rebel you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.A portly gentleman rushes to stomp on a newspaper blowing down the sidewalk, which he zealously kicks into the street. That'll teach em.&lt;br /&gt;11.Been approached by the same Greenpeace activist twice in the same afternoon. Honestly, I didn't want to pledge anything, or sign anything before I went grocery shopping, maybe after?&lt;br /&gt;12.I think there's an albino girl living in my building.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3704638697496579986-6764688479180426942?l=melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com/feeds/6764688479180426942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com/2009/10/you-never-cease-to-amaze-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3704638697496579986/posts/default/6764688479180426942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3704638697496579986/posts/default/6764688479180426942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com/2009/10/you-never-cease-to-amaze-me.html' title='you never cease to amaze me'/><author><name>MER</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06693220242162040421</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3704638697496579986.post-2110737864453605981</id><published>2009-06-26T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T08:09:10.888-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='games'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='copyright'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tech'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>About me, and what I’m going to be talking about</title><content type='html'>About me, and what I’m going to be talking about.&lt;br /&gt; I have a lot to say, so I’ll start with a bit about myself.&lt;br /&gt; I am a 19 year old male, between my sophomore and junior years in college. I spent the last two years at a small engineering school in a boring post-industrial city in the northeast, and for this fall I have transferred to a much larger school in Boston, where I hope to finish my undergrad in something technology related, before continuing on to law school, where I want to specialize in internet and copyright law. I’m short, and have had a fairly large number of orthopedic surgeries; I’m not sure if I consider myself disabled, but I think I can a good segment of the (dis)ability spectrum. &lt;br /&gt;Copyfight is a passion of mine, as are issues relating to the internet and technology in general, so you can expect to hear me geek out about such things in the future. &lt;br /&gt;Video games. I partake. The PC is the one true platform, and that’s all I have. Currently playing  Call of Duty: World at War and [Prototype].&lt;br /&gt;Movies. I won’t watch just anything. I’m really not a fan of comedy, but I am a huge fan of horror and terror, anything kind of dark and gritty. I’m not afraid of foreign and independent. The last move I really enjoyed was Quarantine, along with Inside and Irreversible. I also like some TV, right now I’m working my way through The Shield.   &lt;br /&gt;I believe in the technological singularity.  &lt;br /&gt;Music. I mostly listen to the full spectrum of Industrial, from Throbbing gristle and Nurse With Wound, to Trent Reznor, to Ministry, to The Birthday Massacre, to Rammstein, to Emilie Autumn. I attended Festival Kinetik this year; it was truly amazing, more about it later.&lt;br /&gt;I also do a lot of thinking and reading about feminism, but that’s a topic for another day.&lt;br /&gt;More posts as I find the motivation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3704638697496579986-2110737864453605981?l=melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com/feeds/2110737864453605981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com/2009/06/about-me-and-what-im-going-to-be.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3704638697496579986/posts/default/2110737864453605981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3704638697496579986/posts/default/2110737864453605981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com/2009/06/about-me-and-what-im-going-to-be.html' title='About me, and what I’m going to be talking about'/><author><name>MER</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06693220242162040421</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3704638697496579986.post-5682983722893185883</id><published>2009-06-17T08:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T08:24:35.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First post</title><content type='html'>real content coming soon, I promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3704638697496579986-5682983722893185883?l=melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com/feeds/5682983722893185883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com/2009/06/first-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3704638697496579986/posts/default/5682983722893185883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3704638697496579986/posts/default/5682983722893185883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://melancholyenvyrage.blogspot.com/2009/06/first-post.html' title='First post'/><author><name>MER</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06693220242162040421</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
