Thirty four might be "young" in quotes, but I'm not addled enough to think it's charming to provide my age against the contrast of my youth being an implausibility.

Fuck you, you condescending, smug, assholes.

Also, capitalize your name; lower case proper nouns aren't hip, they're illiterate.]]> http://aaroncameron.net/?jwID=626 http://aaroncameron.net/?jwID=620 Wed, 21 Nov 2012 18:11:00 -0800 aaron@aaroncameron.net Aaron Cameron http://aaroncameron.net/?jwID=620

It's not completely clear the edges of why this is so depressing, exactly, but it is.

Cyanide and Happiness. Buy some of their books.

This provides me with a bit of hope.

Gametrailers.com is making me re-register following their site revamp and their Tees and Cees are prefaced with this little gem:

Social Project ("SP") is established in the United States, meaning that you are accessing a community network in the U.S. Any personal information you provide to SP is governed by and will be dealt with in accordance with the SP Privacy Policy and U.S. law. Please note that U.S. law provides a lower standard of protection for personal data than the laws of various countries including, but not limited to, the European Union.

Man, the truth hurts. Oh, and the link to their SP Terms is a 404. So pretty great work. Also, IIS? Really? If you say so guys.

Sappy, tragic and lovely.

Just like the title says. I threw together a toy to mess around with lighting patterns for Minecraft. I think it's correct. Popped out full size.

Justice denied may still become justice delayed, but in these cases the price for our failure has already been paid. The burden borne by those who always end up paying: the poor and the powerless. The price for Pakistan's misoganistic society paid by an innocent woman. The price for Greece's corrupt government and imbalanced austerity plan paid by an elderly pensioner.

KARACHI, Pakistan — Fakhra Younas went under the surgeon’s knife 38 times, hoping to repair the gruesome damage inflicted by a vengeful Pakistani man who had doused her face in acid a decade earlier, virtually melting her mouth, nose and ears.
...
On March 17, after a decade of pining for Pakistan, a country she loved even though its justice system had failed her terribly, Ms. Younas climbed to the sixth-floor balcony of her apartment building in the southern suburbs of Rome and jumped. She was 33 years old.

The 77-year-old pensioner pulled the trigger as people were emerging from a nearby metro station in the morning rush hour. One witness told state TV that before shooting himself he had shouted, "I'm leaving because I don't want to pass on my debts."
...
The 77-year-old had written in his one-page, three-paragraph suicide note that it would be better to have a "decent end" than be forced to scavenge in the "rubbish to feed myself".

I've written a piece about the recent Rush Limbaugh flap for DateDaily called: Missing The Forest For The Trees. That is all.]]> http://aaroncameron.net/?jwID=612 http://aaroncameron.net/?jwID=609 Mon, 16 Jan 2012 06:51:00 -0800 aaron@aaroncameron.net Aaron Cameron http://aaroncameron.net/?jwID=609

For what it's worth I will be joining the strike on the 18th.

I tend to think there's a value in solidarity even for low traffic sites, so I'd encourage anyone with the ability to consider joining the blackout. My understanding is that there are Wordpress plugins available to simplify the process for most blogs.

That's all I've got.]]> http://aaroncameron.net/?jwID=609 http://aaroncameron.net/?jwID=606 Fri, 16 Dec 2011 17:42:00 -0800 aaron@aaroncameron.net Aaron Cameron http://aaroncameron.net/?jwID=606

I copy the work of others. There are intellectuals without whom I would simply not be capable of elucidating a single thought. So barren and empty would be my understanding that I can scarcely believe I would be even a ghost of the man that I am today. Language is a tool to the masses through which we can express ourselves, and in so doing find some kind of connection with one another. To form a node, however delicate or indelicate, as the case may be, in this thing we call a civilization. You or I wield words with the incoherent but intense intent of a baboon mastering a newly found revolver. We elate or injure each other through sheer will. The image I intend to impress upon you is that of intellectual Neanderthals pounding at our chests for attention, or to express that we're hungry.

Yet, among the noise produced in the bleating tumult there are voices which ring true enough to cut through the cacophony. Signal piercing the noise. The world has just lost one of those rare signals in the static. I have never met Christopher Hitchens, and yet I feel comfortable in saying he has informed my adult understanding of the world around me nearly as much as any single figure could have. It would be a disservice to the man to suggest that I learned so little from him as to adopt his espoused positions, simply indoctrinated, and instead I feel I've come to know more about the process of thought itself. Hitchens had a ravenous hunger for truth regardless of whether that truth was philosophical, or literal, or spiritual truth. He had a immeasurable capacity for expression which tragically, and paradoxically is no longer present to formulate its own description.

There may be no spiritual ether into which the sum of the parts of Christopher Hitchens will pass to reside and educate and entertain its denizens, but as one of many I am certain he soothed my own bleating tangibly and in so doing with us all added materially to the civilization of the world. It is with a heavy heart I fear that no matter how many of my fellow mammals he has touched, the net civilization will still not approximate the loss of his signal in the noise.

It's impossible to crystallize a career of brilliance into a 2 minute clip, but my tiny mind wants to satisfy my urge to try, and so here it is: