babaluga

After investigating GUI development in GTK+2 and Perl, I had a look at using either Perl or Python with wxwidgets.

for Perl : wxPerl
For Python : wxPython

wxGlade generates Python and Perl code for wxWidgets.
Possibly also visualwx, but for windows only.

SPE is an editor and IDE for python, done with wxPython.
Eric a very complete Python IDE written in PyQt using the QScintilla editor widget.
EPIC is an opensource Perl IDE for the Eclipse platform.

For using Postgresql with Python
pypgsql, with an installer for Windows
Needs eGenix.com mx Extensions for Python

Just having a look at TV. On a french channel, a show with a young new “star” made by the TV channel, singing some pityful crap with young girls in very short outfit dancing around him.
At this very moment, I would like to stop being vegetarian, and eat horse meat with Phil Dick. The cheap one not for human consumption he was buying.
In this situation, what’s the point to be vegetarian ? Eating horse meat like Phil Dick is so much more enviable than any of those apocalyptic moments on TV. This can’t be real, they cannot be real people, it can’t be.

I was watching today The Paper. Fine, Ron Howard sometimes do some decent movies.

I liked a specific moment, when Robert Duvall as the Editor of the newspaper is stating, in a cafe, that the time of a man is taken by three things : the house, the work and people – the family. If you add up the three things, it needs more time than one has at one’s disposal. So usually we take time from the people, because as they are people, we assume they are more flexible and that they can understand or we will have time to catch up later…

I started reading some days ago the selected writings of Philip K. Dick published under the title “The shifting realities of Philip K. Dick” by Lawrence Sutin, who also wrote a biography of Dick.
It has been some time since I haven’t read a Dick’s novel, and I didn’t realize how much I was missing it, I was missing him. Truly his writings are touching me. I am reading this short essays, speeches, introductions in the train, going to work in the morning, and oftentimes I start having tears. So I close the book, need to take some time, try not to look affected for other people in the train. Dick is talking about his life, his love for science-fiction, SF writers, girlfriends and cats. He is repeating how poor he was, is and will be, a talk about life with this familiar voice of close friends who are sad, sometimes resignated, sometimes revolted, always frank and true. He doesn’t want to hide and his simplicity, the delicate and at the same time straightforward tone he has, take us with him. He doesn’t want to hide, or to show off. He wants to be, to feel, and his relation to life is sincere. He his searching meaning, loves music and philosophy, reads everything he can about religion, talks about dead friends, jokes about little things and pass on moments of his life where he was touched and amazed. Dick was a truly great writer, someone who weaves strings of the most exquisite quality, and makes us feel more alive, more humans.

I am wondering sometimes if there’s a kind of paths of destiny.
I am watching the final of the Welsh Open of Snooker, and it seems to me it is always the same pattern. Ronny O’Sullivan was three frames behind, when Steve Davies needed only one more frame to win this open. And as I have seen it many times before, at a point, it is like things take a direction – a path, and you feel it, it is perceptible, like if real life was a movie : there are twists and turns, but you know, inside of you you know what the outcome will be. Steve Davies came back many time at the table, Ronny O’Sullivan made many mistakes, and at the end – it was such an incredible last frame -, at the end there was a gap of just a few points, everything could have changed in a second. But it happened what I felt, what was in the path taken less than one hour ago, this path of destiny. The last red ball was missed by Steve Davies, it made it easy for O’Sullivan to finish the frame, there were maybe a gap of five points, Steve Davies could have won the game at the very last moment : the ultimate seventeenth frame. But, as if things were written, as if certain movements were unstoppable, he just missed it, and didn’t revert the momentum of O’Sullivan.
That was a really great moment of Snooker.