From the unintentional truth-in-spam dept.

"You have received a greeding card!"

I suppose so.

From the unintentional truth-in-spam dept.

"You have received a greeding card!"

I suppose so.

The first thing I asked Wolfram Alpha

"area under x^2 from 0 to 1"

Yup. Got that one right.

"time value of $300 in 12 years at 2%"

Almost right -- I got the present value to end up with $300 in 12 years, which is $236. Certainly enough to get it right on the second try.

"population of Pakistan in 1980"

Yup.

"population of Pakistan in 1950"

no data available, but it shows the population curve back to 1970 or so.

"Steve Jobs birthday"

a plausible date.

"Steve Jobs social security number"

Wolfram Alpha isn't sure what to do...

The first thing I asked Wolfram Alpha

"area under x^2 from 0 to 1"

Yup. Got that one right.

"time value of $300 in 12 years at 2%"

Almost right -- I got the present value to end up with $300 in 12 years, which is $236. Certainly enough to get it right on the second try.

"population of Pakistan in 1980"

Yup.

"population of Pakistan in 1950"

no data available, but it shows the population curve back to 1970 or so.

"Steve Jobs birthday"

a plausible date.

"Steve Jobs social security number"

Wolfram Alpha isn't sure what to do...

Surprised myself

Everyone had dessert but me. In keeping with tradition, then, I announced my intention to have something that was better than what anyone else had had.

Then I had to figure out what that was.

Then I had to track down exactly the recipe I wanted.

Then I had to carefully transcribe the skeleton of the recipe to paper.

Then I had to make the chocolate pudding, occasionally consulting the recipe for ideas.

Here's the surprising bit: I doled out four portions for next dessert night and only had a little bit left -- which I ate. No, the surprising bit was that I was satisfied.

Two compulsions I have: one, a recipe must not be made exactly as specified; two, unassembled things are in urgent need of assemblage.

Surprised myself

Everyone had dessert but me. In keeping with tradition, then, I announced my intention to have something that was better than what anyone else had had.

Then I had to figure out what that was.

Then I had to track down exactly the recipe I wanted.

Then I had to carefully transcribe the skeleton of the recipe to paper.

Then I had to make the chocolate pudding, occasionally consulting the recipe for ideas.

Here's the surprising bit: I doled out four portions for next dessert night and only had a little bit left -- which I ate. No, the surprising bit was that I was satisfied.

Two compulsions I have: one, a recipe must not be made exactly as specified; two, unassembled things are in urgent need of assemblage.