Wednesday, December 13, 2006


The Last Supper

Wow. My last night in Barcelona. It just sort of hits you all of a sudden that, yeah, tomorrow I leave never to return. I mean I might visit Barcelona in the future, but I lived here man. It will just never be the same. I mean, I've never had to move away from somewhere before. Even with home and school I know that when I leave, I will eventually return. But not here, this chapter of my life (unoriginally titled 'Barcelona') is actually ending. The closest thing I can compare it to is finishing a long but really good novel. While you were reading you were racing to the conclusion, you couldn't help but want to know what would happen next, and finishing the book carries with it a sense of accomplishment. But it is bitter sweet because you know that this thing that was so much fun to experiance, or read if I am to stick with the metaphor, is actually over. You can never reread a book for the first time, its still fun to go through the motions, but you always know what's coming next. Such will be my memories of this place. If what I am describing does not ring true with you, dear reader, because you've never seen yourself hurtling unstoppably towards a point of no return, then let me offer some advice. Next summer (I think) when you are reading the new and final Harry Potter book, pause before you start the final chapter. What you'll find is that you don't want the book to end because you know that there is no more; but, like an addict in need of a fix, you will keep reading until the end. It will be the end of Harry no matter if he lives or dies. I suppose that with enough will power you could freeze Hogwarts in an instant, decide not to read the last chapter or the last page so that Harry's story is forever unfinished. But no matter how much I screw up my face and act like a Hiro, tomorrow will come.

And at the risk of sounding mushy and emo and putting all of you off because youre used to my churlish or sarcastic or whatever nature... I don't think I could have asked for a better group of people to spend four months trapped in a dorm with. I know they will probibly never read those words, but is the truth. And I think I'll miss them, all of them.

-Tim M Lunardoni

Tuesday, December 12, 2006


Change of Plans

From atop his high ivory tower Montgomery Q Continental, robber barron and billionaire tyrant, changed my life with a wave of his pen. He cancelled my flight home, seemingly banishing me to Barcelona forever. As places to get banished to go, Barcelona is far nicer than Siberia this time of year. But borgeois pigs like Monty Q need to learn that they cannot abuse their power so. If they do, one day we Prols with rise up. All his money won't be able to quell our numbers. There will be a revolution. But until then, I'll be contented to change my flight.

So now I've lost 24 hours in the BCN. I come back Thursday, which makes tomorrow my last day in Barcelona. Weird no? I will resist the urge to be nostalgic, but must point out that the topography of the area will be strange to leave. I'm used to having the sea and the hills like two giant pong paddles, parallel for me to bounce between.

I still have one more final, Art History. No sweat I hope. I've done my four other finals. If I don't get at least a perfect score on my two finals today, I'll be sad. It seems a shame that I'll spend my last day in the city taking tests and packing though. Perhaps I'll take just one more swim in the Mediterranean.

No I won't. I'd die.


Saturday, December 09, 2006



Those faithful readers among you will no doubt recall my initial description of the fall of my internet. I layed forth a metaphor implying that the reason my internet was ripped to bloody shreds was because it was too slow to avoid a furry feral sabertoothed beast. It turns out that this was the opposite of the truth. My internet was disabled for going not too slow, but rather too fast. The way my completely legal downloading program works is that it streams in information on unused bandwidth. Therefore the speed of my downloads is inversely proportional to the number of people using the internet in the dorm. It's all very complicated, having to do with the way the Internet God, Lord Xenu, manipulates the series of tubes the internet force flows through. But the important thing is that I cannot steal from other users, I can only use what is freely availlable. The same is true for all the other people in the dorm to whom I gave my completely legal and nameless downloading service. In a perfect world this causes no problems.

There is a problem though. The internet service providers put a sort of speed limit on our internet connections. Without telling us, interpol (the internet police) can pull us over and revoke our licenses, no questions asked. This weekend is a long weekend for all my Spanish dormmates, so they all went home leaving the dorm virtually empty. With no spaniards using the internet my downloading accelerated to an unimaginable velocity. Since I was going too fast, I was pulled over and kicked off. Now I can't get back on the internet until the person in charge of the dorm internet comes back from his prolonged weekend and pulls the lever that will let me back on.

Waiting is unimaginably annoying. Especially annoying because the dark Lord Xenu saw fit to kill my flash drive last night. My flash drive had on it all of my sources for the paper I'm writing and the only copies of all of the papers I've written for Ithaca. Mark my words... Xenu will pay.


Thursday, December 07, 2006


Post Script

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention: today was my last day of classes. I have one paper and four finals between me and the end of the semester. All in all not a huge barrior. I found myself with some free time last night while watching Eddie Izzard (I wrote it off as research) and so I started to pack. My dirt clothes are all packed away. My stay in BCN is actually ending.

Can it be true?



The Gauntlet Has Been Thrown Down

It seems my jubalent proclamation in my previous post may have been a bit premature. Skynet has struck back in much the same manner as John McClane, with avengence! My mad hacker skills only bought me a meesly 12 hours on the internet. Though this window was large enough to allow me to download the most recent episodes of "Heroes" and "Boston Legal" (legally), it is still frustrating to have no contact to the outside world from my room.

I would understand, and even welcome the challenge if the malevolent god of internetia was singling me out for a duel of wills. There is a strange honor in a mortal meeting a diety on the field of battle. But it seems Skynet plays dirty. One by one the Americans in my dorm have been losing their internet connections the same way I have. Some one or some thing crashed the Ithaca Webmail server. Also, some force, beyond the capabilities of any mortal man, has knocked out the phone lines in my parents´house. Touche internet.

I suppose this is the reason Peter Parker wears a mask. Well I can play dirty too. If technology see´s fit to resort to attacking innocents, so can I. I saw a brave little toaster walking down the street today, so I kicked it.

Skynet you´ve met your match in me!

-John Doe

Tuesday, December 05, 2006


Tim:1 Internet: Nothing


Using what I can only describe as 'ace hacking skills' I was able to get my internet up and running again. I'm not exactly sure how I did it, but I am relatively certain that I was the one to fix it, not that it just turned back on. The story is far too detailed and dull to recount in text, so let's just say I re-routed the mainframe into Friendster and de-figged the PCP ports.

This was after i read through my entire internet use contract and realized I hadn't actually violated it. Reading contracts is boring though. If you want more excitement, replace Keanu Reeves in 'The Matrix' with me, I think you'll find it is a better movie.



Natural Selection

A cold wind sweeps across the Spanish Tundra. Winter is coming. In their brains an instinct is triggered that has existed for time immemorial. The roots of instinct run deep, so deep that they punch right through the permafrost of logic and reason. And so, without knowing or caring why, the wild internets start their seasonal migration south for the winter.

But the herd of internets are not alone on the tundra this night. Up on the hill overlooking the pass used annually for their migration, a preditor looks on. His saber teeth seemingly glow in the light of the setting sun. Preditors have insticts too, but for the moment this one waits, crouched in the tall grass awaiting his opportunity.

There it is! Wounded, or sick, one of the internets has fallen behind the herd. The preditor is off like a shot, bounding down the hill. The sabertoothed preditors of the Spanish Tundra are world famous for their persistence. Once a male of the species has chosen his prey, he does not let up the chase until he has made the kill. This one is a ferocious hunter, it won´t take long before his hunger is satisfied.

The poor internet senses it is in danger. It calls out for its herd, but they do not answer. The herd of internet know it is worth sacrificing one invalid to avoid losing many stronger internets warding off a voracious foe.

The preditor pounces. His powerful jaws openned wide. The struggle takes only moments. Soon the weak internet is dead, and the rest of the herd is a healthy distance away. Tonight the preditor will feast.

That fallen internet in the passage above, that was my internet. Though the entire dorm has maintained a healthy internet connection, mine passed away last night at about 11:30 (my time). I was able to tell the receptionist what had happened (sparing her the darwinist details) in Spanish, which I was proud of. She said she had no idea what the problem was, but she would call Josep (I assume Josep is the kind of person that would know why an internet connection up and dies in the middle of the night for no reason, but still has the courtesy to apologize whenever I try to activate it). But Josep didn´t pick up the phone. I can only assume that he is dead too, perhaps murdered. Or maybe he died in the fire that ravaged my building over the weekend. I´m not saying he was the one that set the fire, or that he burned alive, but maybe he was in one of the rooms when they filled with smoke, but didn´t leave because the smoke detectors didn´t go off and died of smoke inhalation. That seems the most logical course of events.

So until I can get my hands on a new internet, I won´t be online, nor will I be able to check my mail, other than at the IES computer lab (which will be closed tomorrow on account of the holiday... don´t ask me what holiday it is, I have no idea). However, I will do my best to check my mail and my blog as often as possible, so I will be in touch. I plan on spending the long internetless hours catching up on writing my blog. I´ve been remiss in updating, but it´s only because I´ve been so busy doing stuff that I should be writing about.

Talk to you when I can.


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