Blog migration
I just finished importing posts from my other blog 电脑怪猫 here to my main blog. The previous separation of techniques related stuff to the other blog was due to blogger's lacking of labeling support.
Super Lazy Cat
I just finished importing posts from my other blog 电脑怪猫 here to my main blog. The previous separation of techniques related stuff to the other blog was due to blogger's lacking of labeling support.
Written by
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7:00 PM
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Written by
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6:39 PM
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The whole school of computing has just moved to a new site. Despite of some small inconveniences of the new location (such as transportation, freezing and irregularly shaped office, no cellphone signal coverage, etc), one rule has been posed in every research lab - "NO FOOD OR DRINK ALLOWED". This is because instead of using plastic floor, light colored carpet is now covering every inch of the lab turf. I'm not sure whether the policy maker has also noticed the fact that, dark muddy footprints are already everywhere during the raining season, if so, maybe we will be informed to use our bare feet. On the contrary, I have never seen any food spread or drink spilling in the old lab. But ok then, Singapore has had plenty of places not allowing food/drinks (bus, mrt), just plus one place we're working for more than 8 hours per day, there is no big deal, really. This is not the end, though.
A few days ago, the head of the department disseminated an email clarifying this new policy, he said, he wants to use it to push students to the pantry where they can eat/drink and at the same time talk about their research with one another more. That is good. However, when we headed to the pantry, we all stuck at the entrance:
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Pan Yu
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8:43 PM
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Written by
Pan Yu
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8:57 PM
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去到新的地方,遇到新的人,开始新的生活,一定会感觉轻松惬意吧。就和自己刚到这边的时候一样,空气是清新的,阳光是透明的,音乐是轻快的,步伐是跳跃的。把过去的烦恼都抛掉了,每天给你打电话都想和你分享新的体验,多希望你在身边,一起经历这些。Jeff的歌中说“有了爱,一颗心从此好安定”。那么多年来,如果说有什么没有变,或者说有什么变得越来越坚定了,就是想要和你一同分享生命中喜悦的心情吧。马上要启程了,别忘了和我说身边的事情,给我看照片,好好吃饭,早点困告,一切都会好的。
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3:22 PM
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There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.
While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.
In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young."
The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good.
Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out dully at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling--something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.
There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pier-glass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.
Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.
Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair. Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.
So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.
On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.
Where she stopped the sign read: "Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie."
"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.
"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."
Down rippled the brown cascade.
"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.
"Give it to me quick," said Della.
Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.
She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation--as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value--the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.
When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends--a mammoth task.
Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.
"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do--oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?"
At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.
Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."
The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two--and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.
Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.
Della wriggled off the table and went for him.
"Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again--you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice-- what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."
"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.
"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair, ain't I?"
Jim looked about the room curiously.
"You say your hair is gone?" he said, with an air almost of idiocy.
"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you--sold and gone, too. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?"
Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year--what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.
Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.
"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."
White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.
For there lay The Combs--the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.
But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"
And them Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"
Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.
"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."
Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.
"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."
The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.
Written by
Pan Yu
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3:01 PM
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Written by
Pan Yu
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11:33 PM
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向MM和Gengpu同学马上就要marry了。除了表达偶衷心的祝愿,还自告奋勇的当了次御用摄影师。同行的还有经验丰富的老年摄影师“耗子”,及影坛新星“光头”。如此华丽的阵容,令同在景点(植物园和圣淘沙)拍婚纱照的其他队伍望而生畏,都尽量和我们拉开距离,避免相形见绌的尴尬。拍摄圆满成功之际,放出此次豪华团队的照片,也算是做个广告,为今后进军专业摄影界做点准备。
主角们,手持自制反光板(poster),表情时而可爱时而呆滞。
本人,扮相极具艺术气质的头号摄影师,以浓密的胡须著称当代马克思。
耗子,老年摄影师,经验丰富,精神恍惚,乘车去目的地时带我坐过2个站头,之后想超近路却误入私人住宅区,差点被狗咬死。
光头,摄影爱好者,以性感的光头从某刚认识的MM那里迅速骗取了专业级的D200相机。虽然学习摄影只有短短2天,而且是网络远程教学,不过在此行中表现出的搞笑和创意,消除了耗子和我差点被狗咬死的阴影。
Written by
Pan Yu
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3:48 PM
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Written by
Pan Yu
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4:49 PM
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开始说是刘德华(香港人),被班主任起名Andy;胖的时候说像夏添(高中同学,圆圆脸);后来留了点小胡子变成尼古拉斯凯奇(美国人)和周总理(从前的人);胡子刮了变成木村拓哉(日本人);在任何国家的入关口都会被拦下来检查因为有胡子像中东人;在自己国家出关时又被当成日本人;还有人说眼睛颜色浅像越南人。天哪,从小到大,我的变化有那么大吗?像某个明星还可以沾沾自喜一下,可是到出入关的时候就咯儿屁了,难道那些人从来不看电影吗?
Written by
Pan Yu
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4:43 PM
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Labels: funny
Written by
Pan Yu
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3:01 PM
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Labels: programming, tips
HH came to Singapore for a business trip some time ago, and asked a few of us to hang around a bit. While on the taxi, he raised a question about a word he saw a lot on/beside the road -- "ERP" which stands for the business he works in (Enterprise Resource Planning) but certainly was out of context. The taxi driver laughed while we frowned. "It tells you need to pay for driving on that road. It says, Everyday Robbing People!". We all fainted... To continue the stunning effect, he further asked "You know what GST is? You pay more when you buy things, then the Government Say Thank you!".
footnote:
ERP - Electronic Road Pricing
GST - Goods and Service Tax
Written by
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5:01 PM
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Written by
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7:45 PM
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Written by
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3:43 PM
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Labels: tutorial
Written by
Pan Yu
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4:40 PM
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相信我们每个人都有一个巨大的ISO游戏库,而现在最大的棒子也只有4GB,而且价格不菲。所以有人提出了用USB连接电 脑,直接读取电脑上存放的ISO来游戏的概念。这篇文章就是介绍怎样在3.10OE-A系统下面实现用USB->ISO来玩游戏的。DH可能自带这 样的功能,由于我自己已经不用DH了,还希望达人补全。最后说明一下,使用自治软件,特别是写入固件(第2步)有可能损坏你的PSP系统,想要尝试的人必须有视死如归的精神,坏了我不承担任何责任,这也是自治软件社群的潜规则了。
本文参考了以下网页,特此感谢
http://psp3d.com/member-news/133 ... wares-released.html
http://www.hoodong.com/entrygroupview.do?doc_id=200000813384
http://forums.afterdawn.com/thread_view.cfm/454995
首先准备以下工具:
工具1. [USB Mod v4b For 3.10 OE-A]: 含有PSP端插件的工具包,用来与PC通信,以及切换USB->ISO状态还是普通ISO状态。
工具2. [usbhostfs_PC_Win_1.5]: PC端的USB通信服务器程序。
工具3. [libusb-win32-device-bin-0.1.10.1]: PSP设备驱动信息提取程序。
工具4. 如果是TA-082主板降级的机器,还需要[TA082_USB_Fix]来修复固件里面的错误信息,这样工具3才能提取正确的信息。
下面是具体步骤:
1. 解压工具1,把MS_ROOT/seplugins里usbhostfs.prx,buzzusbvsh.prx和buzzusb.txt复制到"psp 根目录/seplugins"。如果"PSP根目录/seplugins"下没有game.txt和vsh.txt,那这两个文件也复制过来。如果已经存 在,则把工具1中2个txt文件的内容复制追加到已存在的2个txt文件中。
2. 关闭psp,按住R键开机进入恢复模式。在plugin选项中激活(enable)所有与usbhostfs和buzzusbvsh的插件。退出 plugin选项,选择Advanced->toggle USB (flash0),之后把工具1中Flash0/kn/vshctrl.prx和systemctrl.prx复制到PSP的kn目录(先备份),覆盖原 文件。退出 恢复模式。重启以后就能通过长按"口"键切换普通ISO模式(原来的模式)和USB->ISO模式了。不过现在USB->ISO模式里还不会 出现PC端的游戏,所以我们还需要安装PC端的服务器程序。
3. 解压工具2,复制PC上的游戏psp文件到解压后目录的ISO文件夹中(其实只要保证游戏iso文件在usbhostsf.exe程序所在目录的ISO子 文件夹中就可以了)。复制cygusb0.dll和cygwin1.dll至 C:\windows\system32中。这样运行usbhostsf.exe,服务器端就算是设置好了。不过现在PSP的驱动程序还没有安装(不是平 常识别为存储设备的那个驱动),所以还不能连接。
4. 接下来需要用工具3提取并安装PSP驱动程序。先启动PSP,这时windows会跳出检测到新硬件的对话框,暂时不必理会。解压工具3,运行bin\ inf-wizard.exe,选择next,会出现一个已连接USB设备的列表。通过开关psp来确定哪一项是psp对应的设备(需要back再 next来刷新列表),之后选择此设备,next, next,把导出文件以默认文件名"your_file.inf"存至工具2的driver目录中。最后,关闭再打开psp,根据windows新硬件向 导,选择工具2的driver目录来安装刚才导出的psp驱动了。安装完毕后,再接入psp的时候就不会跳出新硬件的对话框了。
5. 所有准备完毕。最后,运行usbhostfs.exe(工具2),出现一个dos窗口。连接并打开psp,长按"口"键切换到USB->ISO模 式,如果dos窗口中显示"connected to device",那么恭喜你,你可以运行在PC上的iso游戏了。
6. 如果你用的是TA-082主 板的psp,psp的驱动信息并不能被正确的提取。这 时需要使用工具4来修复psp的固件,之后再提取驱动信息。解压工具4,把MS_ROOT里面内容复制到psp根目录(确保043.bin在psp根目 录)。在psp里运行UsbHostfs-Fix程序,全部显示successful之后重启psp。之后跳到步骤4制作驱动。后面相同。
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问题1:安装工具2之后,我怎么辨别切换到了USB->ISO模式还是普通ISO模式?
回 答: 按住"口"键之后,psp上面读盘的指示灯会闪烁一会儿,这个说明正在切换模式。之后记忆棒中的游戏图标可能并没有刷新,需要进入“游戏存档”,然后退 出,之后就刷新了。如果刷新之后显示的是原来棒子里面的游戏,就是出于普通ISO模式,如果显示了硬盘上面的iso游戏,就是进入了USB-> ISO模式。如果什么游戏都没有显示,那是处于USB->ISO模式,这个时候,如果usbhostsf.exe的dos窗口中显示 "connected to device",那么是因为iso游戏放置的文件夹没有设对;如果dos窗口没有显示,就是psp驱动的问题了。
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你可以用google搜索,或者到http://www.cngba.com/thread-16648557-1-1.html下载以下工具(须注册为cngba会员):
USB_Mod_v4b_For_3.10_OE-A_For_PSP.zip
usbhostfs_PC_Win_1.5.rar
libusb-win32-device-bin-0.1.10.1.rar
TA082_USB_Fix.rar
Written by
Pan Yu
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11:22 PM
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