IceSamurai.net

Always liked E.E. Cummings’ poetry… it’s very interesting… that’s why it’s listed here.

she being Brand

-new;and you
know consequently a
little stiff i was
careful of her and(having

thoroughly oiled the universal
joint tested my gas felt of
her radiator made sure her springs were O.

K.)i went right to it flooded-the-carburetor cranked her

up,slipped the
clutch(and then somehow got into reverse she
kicked what
the hell)next
minute i was back in neutral tried and

again slo-wly;bare,ly nudg. ing(my

lev-er Right-
oh and her gears being in
A 1 shape passed
from low through
second-in-to-high like

greasedlightning)just as we turned the corner of Divinity

avenue i touched the accelerator and give

her the juice,good

(it

was the first ride and believe i we was
happy to see how nice she acted right up to
the last minute coming back down by the Public
Gardens i slammed on

the
internalexpanding
&
externalcontracting
brakes Bothatonce and

brought allofher tremB
-ling
to a:dead.

stand-
;Still)

Part of my Mobile E-Mail Setup HOWTO, I wrote script to convert my Evolution mboxes over to Maildir format

I created a PERL script to run thru and parse Ximian Evolution’s mboxes and convert them into Maildir format. It’s a derived work from Bruce Guenter and Russ Nelson’s mbox2maildir scripts. Supports:

• Directory recursion
• X-Evolution header parsing (message status and flags)
• Normal hierarchal directory or Courier-IMAP directory naming
• By default both X-Evolution and [X-]Status header used, but options provided to override one or the other
• Convert mail marked “old” (X-Status) as read
• Skip or convert unexpunged deleted messages
• Convert Drafts, Outbox, Sent and Trash folders
• A documented manual (man page) – quite detailed

Download version: 1.0.2

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?