Think Forward.

Melusine - Part 1

Live reports from dreamland, 10 mon.
The sun, that day, had forgotten to set. As he was reclining on a curvy and narrow chaise longue, Sebastian Byrne looked at the slant rays glimmering through the yellowing leaves on the lowest branches of the elms. Their brass-trimmed green lace ebbed and flowed as the wind blew away the last minutes of the golden hour. Sebastian brought the quilt closer to his neck. He sighed, scattering some crumbs around for the birds; but that evening none dared to fly by. Maybe Nathan had lost track of time on his way to the post office and back, and would not come, as he promised, before dusk. They had always watched the sun set together. They did so for the last six weeks, before Sebastian fell ill; and for the first day he could step outside, Nathan did not even bother to be on time. Undergrads will be undergrads… Sebastian was staring absentmindedly at the slow, suspended vanishing of the light when muffled footsteps echoed down the hill, along the side path that lead to the verandah. - Sebastian! The silvery voice rushed towards Sebastian, followed from a distance by a buoyant, youthful figure clad in light linen, waving a folded paper. The figure flew nearer, leaping, kid-like, on the smooth slope where Mrs Byrne’s garden weaved itself into a wilderness of low bushes and wild roses. A smile flickered across Sebastian’s thin, slightly parched lips, and disappeared. He had always seen Nathan skipping and leaping around, from the day he had interviewed him as a candidate for Oxford. While most of the applicants were timidly sliming along the college’s staircases and the tutors’ questions, Nathan jumped along the steps as he did through Greek and Latin periods. A rare breed he was, that seventeen-year-old brat, in a time when undergraduate faces were drawn by sullenness and tedious ploughing. And here he was, two years later, running back from Mrs Byrne’s country house, a letter in his hand. It was that white rectangle that chased Sebastian’s smile away. It was, doubtlessly, the answer Nathan had been expecting for weeks. Sebastian, they wrote back! « I know », thought Sebastian. « They wrote back and had the answer been negative, you would not have leaped so vivaciously, would you now? » Presently Nathan threw himself on the chaise longue, which squeaked under the attack, and stuck the letter under Sebastian’s nose. - Tolle, lege! Sebastian’s lips quivered as he caught glimpses of the words carefully drawn in dense black ink on the white paper. The handwriting leaned gently towards the right, on even lines that left an elegant margin on each side of the silken-white paper. Dear Sir, I am very grateful for you reply. I have read the reference letter sent to me by Doctor Byrne with great interest and his account of your accomplishments… We are very pleased that you are able to join us in spite of the circumstances… Looking forward… Did Madame de La S*** answer herself? Sebastian did not read any further. The thin, straight lines seemed to curl up, fading into one another, becoming barely legible. He smiled and extended his hand: « Well done, young man. This is an unexpected step, but an expected success. And they seem quite keen. » The last paragraph was indeed pressuring. It was urgent that the position would be filled. As many other applicants had manifested interest, Nathan was expected to arrive as early as possible, or they will be forced to hire someone else. « I would need to go as early as possible, maybe the day after tomorrow », said Nathan. It was not until then that Nathan looked at his tutor’s face. As the golden sunlight was turning to purple, he realized the sudden and deep changes the disease had impressed on Sebastian Byrne’s face, once full of strength, intelligence, and mercy. When he had first met Sebastian — then Doctor Byrne to him, Nathaniel Kiernan fell under the spell of these grey eyes, so deeply grey they sometimes seemed black. For two years, almost every day, he had sat under their keen gaze in Sebastian’s room, a shabby but spacious set that overlooked Saint Mary’s tower and the Bodleian’s dome. Those were the days we shall remember as the last golden golden glory sining over the Spires. Not that these were better days, but this time is gone. Surely, then, tutors complained about the termly fifth)week gloom, about the food, at times too rich and at times too poor, and about the noises that the new automobiles made, covering the trodding and rattling of the carriages. Those days poured over the city one after the other, year after year. Matriculation speech faded into Christmas carols as we snuggled in library nooks during the winter; then Summer Eights dragged us out by the river, revision books in hand, then graduation ceremonies rushed upon us and after the long, and yet too short, summer vacation, Matriculation happened again, ushering in a new cohort of Freshers’ faces, at once enthusiastic and anxious, the youthful barbarians from Eton or Harrow, the models of appropriateness from hard-working grammar schools. Under the gaze of the dreaming spires, the streets teemed with laughter that rang along the chiming bells, with inebriated songs at the crack of dawn, with the joyful glee and careless wrath that came with the examinations’ results. While the colleges remained unchanged, their stones and statues clad in centuries of iteration, the young faces around made every morning new. Even Sir Rayleigh, the provost, seemed like a playful young man to Nathan the first time he met him, his eyes sparkling with cheerful wit under his wrinkled forehead and his snow-white hair. Nathan was one of these modern foundlings, all family ties loosened by a scandalous divorce that threw the name he bore into shame, then into oblivion. Her mother at least had the decency to spare enough money for his education but just enough. Her family would refuse to do anything for a Kiernan boy. As he settled in Oxford, Nathan saw Doctor Byrne as a master more than a tutor. He was impressed by the man’s thoughtful silences as much as by his constant good spirits; he mimicked the way Byrne’s long white fingers rose in a slow arabesque before he spoke, strived to reform the sharp angles of his character to match Byrne’s composed temperance, and copied Byrne’s way of parting his hair in a falsely messy line he wore slightly askew. « Byrne has his way with the young gentlemen, the provost used to say. He talks to them like he was their father, and smiles at them like he was their sister! ». What a difference a few months had made. Oxford, in a few days, was deserted as people ran away from a nameless disease, that seemed to appear nowhere else.

The nomad developer setup #2: infrastructure as code

Antoine, 10 mon.
1 min read.
In a first article, I shared a quick and easy way to access VScode from any browser. You still need to create a cloud provider account and setup a server. In this second article I will share with you a way to automate all the steps needed from the moment you have created your account to using VScode in the browser. In order to do this I am sharing a GitHub repo at the end of this article. It contains all the Infrastructure as Code (IaC) you need. IaC is a practice in software engineering, mostly on the devops side, that involves managing and provisioning infrastructure through code, rather than manual processes. It allows for the automated deployment and configuration of infrastructure, enabling consistency, scalability, and version control for your infrastructure. The repository combines three very powerful tools: Packer, Ansible and Terraform. - Packer is a tool to create machine images avoiding to re-install everything every time you start an instance. - Ansible is an automation tool that simplifies complex tasks like configuration management. In a simple yaml file (a playbook) you can install and configure your server(s). - Terraform is an infrastructure as code tool that enables the provisioning and management of cloud resources using declarative configuration files. Please check the README carefully, it lists the current limitations and will be updated when the repo evolves. In a next article I will add even more automation to it using a ci/cd (continuous integration and continuous delivery) pipeline using GitHub workflow to allow you to start/stop this infrastructure as you wish without accessing anything else than a web browser. Happy Devops!
github.com/azieger/remote-workst...

The Gates of Hell

EL MONO MAS GRANDE, 10 mon.
Many days and many nights did the biggest ape spend on this strange planet. The planet of moral people who talk often of hell. They had a dress for man, one for married women, one for boys, one for girls. When the priests called to prayers they came, when the priests called to sacrifice they sacrificed. They all woke up at the same time, ate a same time, prayed at the same time. Their lives ruled by a religion under the rhythm of the stars. -"We do it for this is good", said some. -"We do it because it's best", said others. Never did the biggest ape enquire further for he knew they had no more explanation to give. One day at the market he met a learned man of those people. "We do it because our fathers did it, and before them our forefathers", said the old man, his voice as dry and leathery as his skin. "Obedience was the primary virtue of our forefathers and what brought them glory and paradise". He paused for a while, appearing to think. "We are nowhere as obedient as they were and for that we suffer, this is the reason for our poverty and wretchedness." And with that the old man raised his eyes, deeply sunken in dark caves, hidden behind the weight of eyebrows too big for the emaciated face. The biggest ape rose and took his leave, he had nothing to say. As he was making his way out, a man stood in front of him, unmoved by the lamentations, unstirred by the calls of the priests. There he stood behind his stole. -"Who is this man?", asked the biggest ape. -"He is the richest merchant. ", said one. -"We buy from him because he cheats less", said another, "if only he was more moral like us". -"If only he would pray like us", lamented a woman. -"If only he would give some of his money", said a beggar. -"It pains us that he should go to hell", whispered and old woman. Hearing the talk the man looked up, locking eyes with the biggest ape. 'If I ever enter a god's hell', said the man, 'I will make sure to do so an a honest man.' 'I understand'. Thus thought Apathustra.

Part 4/5: Research, Rants, & Ridiculousness: The Lighter Side of PhD Madness

Anas Bedraoui, 10 mon.
0 min read.
PhD: the art of turning coffee, chaos, and code into a degree, one panic attack at a time. - My machine learning model predicted I'd finish my PhD on time. Spoiler: Even AI has a sense of humor. - Neurotoxicity research: figuring out if it's the toxins affecting the brain, or just the endless hours in the lab. - Snake venom for drug discovery? Sure, because handling deadly snakes is less frightening than asking my advisor for a deadline extension. - I told my computer to find a cure for snake bites. It opened a travel site to Antarctica. No snakes, no bites, problem solved!

Morocco, Spain, and Portugal World Cup 2030: An Unforgettable Cultural Experience

Dr Rochd, 10 mon.
2 min read.
The 2030 World Cup organization by Morocco, Spain, and Portugal can be analyzed using various approaches. In this article, I want to open a path for an anthropological and cultural analysis of this subject. Morocco, Spain, and Portugal's joint bid for hosting the FIFA World Cup in 2030 has been recognized as a historic decision. The triumph is a significant event for these three nations, as it marks the first time they have worked together to showcase their unique cultural heritage, stunning landscapes, and passion for football on the global stage. The spirit of cooperation and unity among these diverse nations is reflected in this collaborative effort, which embodies not just football passion but also the spirit of cooperation and unity. Football's capacity to bridge borders and foster international friendships can be reflected by hosting the tournament jointly. Combining the vibrant culture of the kingdom of Morocco with the rich traditions of Spain and Portugal, the World Cup 2030 will offer an immersive fusion of flavors, music, and festivities. Morocco gives guests the opportunity to encounter the charming climate of the dynamic medinas, investigate the noteworthy engineering of cities such as Marrakech and Fez "Founded under Idrisid rule during the 8th–9th centuries CE," and enjoy within the country's delightful food. Fans will pick up a more profound understanding and appreciation of Morocco's social traditions through witnessing traditional music and dance performances. Spain, on the other hand, brags a captivating blend of old-world charm and present day dynamic quality.Whether it's exploring the antiquated lanes of Barcelona, seeing the emotional flamenco exhibitions of Andalusia, or indulging in mouth-watering tapas and paella, fans will be inundated within the wealthy cultural tapestry that Spain should offer. Portugal, known for its pleasant scenes, noteworthy cities, and warm neighborliness, includes another layer of social differing qualities to the World cup 2030 experience. Guests can meander through the cobbled roads of Lisbon, visit medieval castles in Sintra, and taste the popular Harbour wine in Porto. The captivating sounds of traditional Fado music, filled with feeling and energy, will transport fans into the soul of Portuguese culture. All three nations have a profound cherish for football, and it is interlaced into their social texture. The World Cup 2030 will be an opportunity for fans to witness firsthand the passion and fervor that football brings to these countries. From exuberant road celebrations to colorful pre-match customs, each viewpoint of the competition will be implanted with the social traditions of Morocco, Spain, and Portugal. The joint bid of Morocco, Spain, and Portugal winning the organization of the World cup 2030 guarantees a genuinely exceptional social involvement for everybody included. From investigating noteworthy cities and reveling in nearby cuisines to drenching oneself within the traditions and music of each nation, the competition will be a celebration of social differing qualities and solidarity. Football fans from around the world can see forward to not as it were seeing top-class matches but moreover being portion of an immersive social travel that will take off enduring memories

Part 3/5: 9 Hilarious Truths Only Ph.D. Students Will Understand

Anas Bedraoui, 10 mon.
Ph.D. Life: When Your Brain Expands, and Your Social Life Disappears! - Coffee Transformation: You start to believe that coffee is a basic human right. - Time Bender: Somehow, all your deadlines are 'tomorrow'. - Lab Maze Runner: You know your lab better than your own home. - Conference Life: You're there for the free coffee and snacks. - Email Excavation: Finding an old email feels like a treasure hunt. - PDF Collector: You have more unread academic papers than unread emails. - Thesis Magic: Turning random experiments into a thesis feels like a magic trick. - Jargon Juggler: You speak a strange language that only five people in the world understand. - Nap Ninja: Mastering the art of napping anywhere, anytime.

"Supervised and Unsupervised Learning in 90 Seconds of Reading"

Tima EL, 10 mon.
1 min read.
** Brief Definition : ** Supervised and unsupervised learning are two fundamental facets of machine learning, each specifically tailored to handle distinct types of data. In supervised learning, the machine learning algorithm is trained on a labeled dataset, where each data point consists of both input features and corresponding output labels. The goal is for the algorithm to learn the mapping from inputs to outputs based on these labeled examples. In unsupervised learning, the machine learning algorithm is trained on an unlabeled dataset to find hidden patterns, structures, or relationships within the data. Unlike supervised learning, there are no predefined output labels for the algorithm to learn from. ** Intuition 🙂 : ** In supervised learning, envision having a jigsaw puzzle featuring a picture of a dog, where each puzzle piece is labeled with its correct position in the completed picture. The model learns from these labeled examples, figuring out the relationships between the shapes and colors of the pieces and their correct locations.This process, often referred to as the training step, allows the model to internalize the patterns within the labeled data. Subsequently, after training, the model is adept at taking a new puzzle of a dog and precisely assembling it based on the knowledge acquired during the training process. Now, imagine you have a bag of puzzle pieces without a picture or labels — just a mix of colors and shapes. In unsupervised learning, the model explores the characteristics of the puzzle pieces without any predefined labels or information about the complete picture, identifying groups that share similar colors, shapes, or patterns. The model doesn't know what the complete picture looks like, but it discovers that certain pieces belong together based on shared features. These groups represent clusters of similar puzzle pieces. In this puzzle analogy, supervised learning entails constructing a model with labeled examples to tackle a specific task, while unsupervised learning involves the model autonomously uncovering patterns or relationships within the data without explicit direction.

Rock Lined Pockets

Taha Mrichi, 10 mon.
0 min read.
See the alarm in the shark’s cadence, Hear the sharp seagull’s cry: The merling king has come! The merling king has come! Jellyfish floating around his cloudy crystal crown Like translucent passive thoughts of aggression. Will he forgive your primate indiscretion? In his court of slime and rock sublime He beckons you with open tentacles to join his circle of hedonistic companions. The mermaid is a murderous creature. The dolphins are wanton and wild. What’s that in your pockets? The inquisitive mollusk asks. Rocks. Of the precious kind? No. His soft limbs curl back in plain disappointment. From under a shell a faint voice cautioned, Do not trust in the soft bodied rogue’s trade. Down here the written word is as fleeting as the spoken one.