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the chest of memories came to receive the documentation of my final project. I was surprised to reread the introduction to my work (a computer simulation framework applied to cache coherence in NUMA machines) and I clearly see what they say: I'm from Lyrics and infiltrated into the technological world. I'll post the introduction of three fragments. To put this into context, let us consider that I wrote back in 2005, I have not changed a comma and then it was probably a lot smarter now ...

Since the beginning of computing as a science until the present, through its emergence as a technology after the Second World War, their movement has followed two parallel paths often closely related: first computer science appears as an effort to model the unknown human mind and its processes using the tools offered him mathematics, is well placed the service of research in the field of psychology and illustrates its modeling existing controversies in this field. On the other hand, is converted to happen in practical technology in a way that allows information processing tasks above (in speed and volume) that you can make a human.

We are heirs of the original concept of the Turing machine defined, but this machine seems in some areas of science as inadequate and clumsy. Thus, cognitive psychologists found that modeling of the human mind that can afford a Turing machine is partial and crude and leaves unexplained many of the mental processes more complex and beautiful human beings. And furthermore, for artificial intelligence appear as obstacles frustrating limitations of this model to run complex algorithms that allow machines to increase their capacities to human levels.

Presumably, this double path of development followed by information technology remains the model of evolution of this discipline. Thus, as more advance knowledge about our own mental processes even more advance technology, allowing us to create artificial minds increasingly similar to those of humans. If the Turing machine appears to be insufficient, you should see new models.

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The mad house at dusk

"Imagination is the mad house" Santa Teresa de Jesus

"The Crazy House" by Rosa Montero is a book of dubious generic assignment somewhere between essays, novels and biography fabled, in which the author provides an informal speech about the imagination, literature and the boundaries between reality and fiction.

This is a book of vague boundary that is easier to say what it is: not a formal treaty or poetic, is not an essay on the craft of writing, there is a novel and is not, or is in any degree, a biography. In the hands of the imagination, the mad house, the author portrays the limits of creation and the folly of human nature and its insertion into the reality and fears and frustrations of the literary creator, namely the novelist.

a quality book is unbalanced, in which moments of brilliance alternated with heavy digressions that add nothing to what is already known. Sorry for not able to fully participate in the game that offers the reader and have stayed on the path of the labyrinth admiring some detail and losing the final goal, if there was. I'll take the hit with it would build a lighter book parallel.

not know the rest of the work of Rosa Montero so my opinion is confined exclusively to this work given in isolation. I think it may be of interest to people attracted by literature, fans and theorizing write lightly.

parallel in my book would not miss what I consider the most brilliant passage in the book and thus justifying their reading. Begins:

"" Today I wanted to write, I had all day to write, and I have thrown overboard answering e-mails.
- Why?
I do not know. Sometimes you avoid get to work. It a strange thing.
- Why laziness?
"No, no
- Why?
-Fearing.

I knew not explain, but last night at the extreme helplessness of the night, in the hallucinatory clarity of the night, while I was tossing and turning, I knew exactly what he meant. For fear of what you leave without writing once you get past action. "

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We all have prejudices, who is without sin that you do look. And after reading this book I to admit that my image of Dickens has changed completely.

This volume was published recently collected a series of stories that keep the common factor encountered in ghosts the excuse of the plot. The prose of Dickens, the environment and atmosphere, we move immediately to the nineteenth century and the exquisite art of writing as a craft. I have really enjoyed the beginning where I think a teacher, able to place the reader with few resources, can create an atmosphere as appealing as the children that kept us glued to a book. Needless to say, it is essential reading.

And I start talking about huge bias because my ignorance, I was trapped in the image of an innocent Dickens. He was by an author with little risk and with little to offer, but it is undeniably his charm, for something was one of the best-sellers of his time-and his ironic vision of reality, their sensitive insights to dispense the pace, the scenes, small digressions.

confront you I love Poe, and its antithesis in many ways and much more when this volume speaks of ghosts and terror on his contemporary as well elaborated. Dickens, however, approaches it from light, from the humor, insight from a man of success that the fates smiled on life. Both are great writers, but I can not help bend gently toward the American and his devastating personal reality. say they met and I think that this event is so literary as their works. I imagine the situation perfectly: Dickens man success, which travels to the U.S. to discuss with copyright piracy of their books by U.S. publishers. In short, the writer at the top. And it's easy for me to imagine Poe, as a prisoner of alcoholism and the rawness of a personal failure that must have seemed unfair to force. A face to face with them, so suggestive and that the end is so fruitless, because they were, but there was no meeting.

And finally, even one extra-literary matter, I can not get carried away by my snobbish side and admire the publication itself: the role and format make it a special book. And yes, I am of those people that when they open a book the first thing you do is tilt the nose on the pages and inhale the smell of printing. Silly as any other, right?