The sponge is currently on administrative leave until tomorrow morning. We have record of his sponginess being excellent during the time in which it was best to be sponge. Now, however, is no sponge required.
Meeting new people is always a sparky flashy bing bang. I did very well with all of that poof today, in the rapture of hours long NAMI table outreach. My gospel of happily re-uptake inhibited existence was heard by many, quite beyond expectation even, with other underachieving adjectives such as “lots” and “much.” I was impressed by the event turnout, yanked like a wanker from one enjoyable chat to the next, but finally, casually ecstatic to have so many neat interactions. Working with great people, seeing a well intended mission going forward with the friends, while there was revelry, showmanship, vocabulary discussions, handouts… a very event packed day where my cheese-like head is overwhelmed. I am grateful for the sip of rejuvenating fairy jizz which has recharged my total self.
I’m still pretty sure I know what I need to do with my life. Occasionally the congress of doubt throws some shade, but not enough to do much of anything anymore. Facts. Proof. Reality. Boom.
If the truth is realized and accepted within the core of self, the armor will not be breached by pointy outside things. Despite the cruel filibuster of Dubiety McDoubterson, the legislature slogs on. Conduct is where action done in the “now,” being vaulted on the road of bricks built of “then.” The world is not going to pander to my absurdly out-of-touch filter, so why be outraged when life sticks a hot poker up your ass?
I was thinking about all the ways my life is quite special, and how fucking that up is not an option at this point. So much real work I did has become a platform for a successful future (hopefully, unless my eyes are eaten by bees, or my dad turns into a gelatinous amoeba of unusual size[pish, like he isn’t already?], consuming all organic matter nearby).
More devilry to come, I’m sure.
Fictional Fantasy Baseball – The Studyball Kurmudgeons
Rarely do I freely venture into the land of mathematics, but as that pertains to statistics, one could say there is love, not anger, death and PAIN. I’m not sure my endeavors serves any other purpose other than to fascinate my brain and make it work in a different way to figure out the solution to a problem, but regardless of notoriety, the task is noble. Back in the good ol’ days I was writing equations while manic that Excel couldn’t resolve, because they were written stupidly and abhorrently complex, ah yes, sweet memory… wait, this is a not good memory… however, I was able to do most of what I wanted, but not all. Fortunately I have found a middle ground between epiphany and practicality. The mechanism of my learning has been a logical argument within Microsoft Excel (or Google Sheets): IF/AND.
Excel allows one to look at or through data in a variety of ways, and boy is there a lot of data around Baseball. I take real 7-day MLB sums from players across the league and the results tell me something about how my own scoring configuration might balance, or scale in certain areas, as appropriate. The things that are hard to write equations for are those that modify or scale a result, or have an array of possible outcomes but somehow need to all be accounted for. Building a massive array by entering all the possible outcomes is not practical when dealing in hundreds. Equations need to be sleek, quick and able to return a sensible answer under any circumstances.
My task over the last couple of days was to make a logical equation using AND, IF or both, and try to weight the ERA over a game period like ranking the scoring/yardage surrendered by NFL team defenses. ERA becomes a scaling reward for low totals, and becomes a worthless (or a negative total) after 4. I had a similar equation already written for the NFL spreadsheet but all the values and references had to be changed.
=SUM[this is just the mechanism that will total the result as an integer]
(IF([condition/test],[result if Y],[result if N]
IF(AND[condition/test],[result if Y],(IF(AND[nested IF as negative response triggers second criteria in the next argument while building off the previous argument, as long as AND is present]
My initial equation looked like this:
=SUM(IF(D1=0,””,(IF(D1<.001,[value cell 0],(IF(D1=0,[value cell 1](AND(D1<.99,D1>.001,[value cell 2],(IF(AND(D1<1.99,D1…….. so on and so forth, moving the needle higher as the ranges of ERA are graded as they fall between one of the equations areas. But I was acting like there was a value below zero I had to be worried about, which is a product of using the equation from the NFL Fantasy Scorecard where those values are possible in the net yardage equation. After taking notice of the parameter change, I rewrote the beginning.
There is a little “housekeeping” to settle up front, taking into account all numbers that COULD BE RENDERED on the spreadsheet. The D1, lets just say is the cell where the manual ERA will be entered on the sheet.
This specific line means, if D1 has no value in it, show nothing (represented by a text quote with no text “”) since zero is an ERA value there should be nothing to render if the cell is empty.
After the above action, the next is to squarely assign a value to 0, since bridging ranges on it is problematic. The, the lowest value in the first range, mathematically expressed in greater-than less-than form. This can be repeated over and over, laying one on top of the other as the N condition until a result is returned.
The whole equation on the spreadsheet itself looks like this:
Those values triggered a result dependent on the integer in the cell, and were located on a separate page within the file:
The parallel between the NFL DEF/ST is undeniable because it is pretty much the same fucking thing. Beautiful how those two very different stats have a parallel in that scale, plus the way that can be whittled until bare at times, much like watching one’s team getting tired in the 4th quarter,defending the lead… this should give something additional for my nonexistent owners to fuss about. I wish there was someone who would fuss.
Making the equation and seeing the result it had on the scorecard was very rewarding, adding a boom-or-bust possibility to the pitcher’s slots on the roster. I like potential, and I like unexpected, crushing agony. Both remind me of how nice normal is.
Now I have a new scaling toy to play with, but another though I had is that pitchers aren’t the only ones with an ERA these days. Position players are now often used as a bullpen if a game is out of reach for example, and the manager wants to save his relief bullets. This could be hell for your average owner, when suddenly your 2B throws 17 pitches and has 4 ER with zero K, HR allowed and a 9.00 ERA!!
Some stimuli has led to a jolt within, where new factors were given a rise of prominence. Still the backdrop of self-inflicted undesirability remains as repugnance is accepted. I’m summarizing grossly.
My hypothesis on status remains the same, since my pie slice is already big enough. I do like pie though. Pie. Tasty pie. Flavors.
An exploratory thought under the oncoming tsunami of gurdge. I’m so overflowing with sludge that it gets everywhere, and smells bad. Can the sludge ever be contained?! On our next episode we’ll find out.
To grunk or not to grunk?
Nothing of supple invitation ever seems to become a happy or a friend.
Sometimes the dirt stays on; an unwanted passenger that degrades what it congeals upon. I feel this way with my brain: the coatings of splattered muck are easy to diagnose, or render a few good whacks upon them to dislodge.
There is are a series of security clearances and clean rooms preventing immediate action, but not deliberation. Part of me says the past is mud, the other can’t let go of the string the red balloon was tied to. He hasn’t seen the balloon in years but still holding on.
Everyone should try love on for size at some point. I found the whole thing to be an exfoliating activity which has subsequently scraped off my desire to know any more. Trauma has that effect, along with a once prominent self hate. Some things are setting while others are about to rise above the horizon.
What am I doing out here?
I remember sniffy sounds at night.
Radiant, passive, trusting.
Currently snagged in a gooey resentment.
Rejected, discarded, regretted, history.
Your relationship to my brain has always been central to our cooperation, so, I believe you will trust my words (said in earnest, from the heart). I know that the information you are being inundated with right now is some pretty rancid, unrelenting vitriol, however, that is only part of the reality you and I reside in. I am not discounting the relevance of allowing emotional expression, but I do expect a bipartisan effort in forward operations regardless. Everyone can have their say, as long as we can all still function normally (ideally).
Despite the revelatory insurrection, there are several things which can be said, truthfully, definitively:
Eric, you have a magnetic personality, a deadly poignant sense of humor, and a charisma that inspires others.
Despite all the numerous mistakes you have made in your past, you are still out there trying for better (nearly) every single day.
Lastly, you are proven strong through fact, capable and dependable in your aspirations, and your duties are done with love and honor.
Despite a history littered with debilitating landmines, there are still compromises, missteps and occasional mutilations. The future can’t be set in one direction, because it is an amalgamation of myriad recesses, peaks, troughs and all the undulations of a matured life.
Sometimes just a few freely flung words have a significant impact…
The self is a puzzle with pieces that change shape, move on their own or hide somewhere far away, never to become a part of the completed picture.
Smeared streak across glass–
Prune-like pulp chunk,
Blasted splat to barrier.
The other side.
Embossed in “la la” afterglow,
A faded twirly skirt no one wears,
In a vacant room–
A light was left on.
Spatula’d off the surface–
Plorped into a dustbin,
Mingling with the glops–
Deposits within firmament.