So I have finally released version 3.01 of Improducer, the software running FMImprov.com. It’s rather basic at the moment, hence the .01. I will be offering upgrades to the officers as the year goes on, with new features.
I’m currently working on version 3.02, ETA whenever I feel like it. It will include the following:
The future releases will hopefully contain:
- A notifications system
- Text message updates
- Messaging system
- Suggestions/approvals for things
- Quotes
- Games List
- Events and a calendar
- Facebook integration
- Twitter integration
These features are coming when I get to them, grouped in packages of one or two. Sound good?
– Paddy Foran
As you can probably see, I’ve installed a new theme. It was a premade, I admit, but I did at least hack it into a fluid width, and reordered some of the columns to my own liking. So my hacker pride isn’t too damaged.
Does this mean I’ll be updating more frequently? Probably not. But at least it looks pretty now, right?
Let me know if anything’s broked.
– Paddy Foran
I’ve been asked what I would like to see in Google’s App Engine, in terms of XMPP support, and I have a few ideas, most of them pipe dreams.
- I’d love to be able to connect my own domain to the XMPP bots, and still have them work with App Engine
- I’d love to be able to send XMPP messages from any address corresponding to my domain, or a single address corresponding to AppSpot (something like my-project@appspot.com)
- I’d love to be able to receive XMPP messages to any address corresponding to my domain, or a single address corresponding to AppSpot, and have an API to access them much as one would a POST or GET variable.
- I’d love to be able to make part of my application serve as a XMPP server, in that users could connect to each other through it, and the messages they send be programmatically handled. (I know this sounds scary, but there are valid use cases)
So there you have it. My dream XMPP environment. I am willing to bet I’ll get a crippled version of this, but we can dream, right?
I’m sorry, I’m a terrible person. I’ve been largely ignoring my own blog for quite some time now. Shame on me.
Just a few quick updates: I’ve almost finished the software for Improducer v3.01- hang in there, FMIC people!- so that will be out of the way soon. The next priority after that is to get ChatDB’s software ready to be open-sourced as a sloppy, shoddy solution. Mainly just finishing/testing the export feature, removing my configuration variables, and packaging it. Finally, I am going to get started with a site called The Blogger is Dead soon, a place for me to play with literary theory- I don’t have enough projects, right? So rather than use some shoddy software pre-built and working fine, I’m going to write blog software in CakePHP, and use THAT to power the site. Why? Because I can.
In short, I’ve got plenty of programming to keep me busy, on top of a plenty-busy personal life.
But at least I have some goodies to offer you, my imaginary readers.
–Paddy Foran
I’m so in hate with myself right now.
I’m listening to Full Cast Audio’s version of Boy Meets Boy. In case this isn’t bad enough, my inner fangirl is emerging. I’m crying.
But it’s also really creepy. The mirror of my life is startling and borderline stalkerish. Lesbian notes, gardens of Eden. Things to remember, not to remember.. And the way things could’ve, should’ve, would’ve, might’ve been.
It’s sad. And happy. And both. And neither.
So much hate.
Yes, there is other stuff I wanted to blog about. Somehow, this got precedence…..
– Paddy
I am the summer wind
I am Puck, your fairy friend
I am the sunlight in the leaves
I am the place where all dreams end.
Come dance with me, and whisper my words
Words of creation, of youth, of life.
The world is yet young, to my reckoning, at least.
Tomorrow is far away; yesterday never was.
Feel with me, breathe with me
Ride me as I ride you –
our proverbial leap-frog of laughter.
Be not my master, and I’ll not be yours.
Drink of me, eat of me
Don’t worry, take your fill.
I am plenty to share,
and enjoy sharing myself with you.
Sing to me, sleep with me
Touch softly your hand to mine
Watch the world grow soft with me,
and we may bask in its magic.
See, as a moderator at ProVision, I came up with a plan for a nice little activity: Project 30. Project 30 was an activity that took place throughout the entire month of April. It was a nice way to get people being creative. The rules were, every day, you had to do something creative. Paint a picture, draw, write something, anything. As long as it took some creativity, it was fair game.
It has taken me a while, but I finally got my entries from Project 30 archived here. Check out the Project 30 tag to see them all.
Until next time.
– Paddy
The Wolf was at the window, graced with a grin.
He stared at me, starving, mouth full of shining sin.
“Open up”, he whispered, “open up and let me in.”
“Not by the hair of your chinny chin chin.”
“Grandma isn’t home, there’s nothing here to eat.”
“You’re looking mighty tasty, I’m sure that you’ll be sweet.”
“My body is in use, look elsewhere for your meat.”
“Take pity on a Wolf, you don’t need your feet..”
Something is amiss, but hunger cannot be denied…
What harm can it do, allowing him inside?
“Meet me at the door.” I reluctantly replied.
It wasn’t a great trick- the Wolf had never lied.
Turning the knob, I opened the door.
The Wolf inside, I fell to the floor.
He chewed off my legs, and then some more,
Staining my cottage with discarded gore.
When he started gnawing on my knees, I sensed something was amiss-
Perhaps my permittance of the Wolf was a little bit remiss.
Though his face was but a mask, of ecstasy and bliss…
I allowed him to eat on, and Death bent over for a kiss.
He feels his father’s hand,
oh so cold!
clearly on his cheek.
It keeps coming.
He knows it isn’t his father’s fault-
the bottle swinging from a hand made him this way.
And the eviction notice on the door put the bottle in his hand.
It doesn’t stop the hand.
She hears her mother’s words,
oh so bold!
clearly in her head.
She knows her mother sees the tears,
and knows her mother isn’t to blame.
Sure, mom won’t let her girlfriend in the house,
but that’s not mom’s fault, and she knows it.
She sees the fear, the quiet panic,
running behind mom’s eyes, the terror someone may find out,
may hurt her baby.
But that doesn’t give her her girlfriend.
Parents are but people,
and people are but human,
and humans are flawed.
Flaws create beauty.
Individually, humans are beautiful,
but put them in a group…
That stops the beauty.
I avoided you for years;
of course now I need you.
I destroyed you, as best I could;
of course now I am creating you again.
I despised you for so long;
of course now I treasure you.
This is the way of the world.