On the edge of real and Cyberspace there is one place you can go. The Knightcast media channel. Featuring a weekly podcast "The Knightcast" and a web Tv show "KW-Tv" Both deal with the everyday adventures of a modern day technofile, filled with tips, tricks, manuals and how-to's on how to tune technology into your everyday life and let tech work for you. All this and more using Windows, Linux, and Mac computers, Web2.0 sites, services and more to upgrade from geek to cyber-citizen. Real Technology for Real life.
The Knightcast : KC 007 "Cloud Computing" 25-2-08.
The silence before the storm has passed and the Knightcast is back on the air. In episode 7 its time to take a look at the smallest affordable laptop on the planet. (No , not the OLPC) and debunk the myth that you need a lot of storage space on your harddrive to remain a happy camper. We show you how the net can become your mobile office and take you to cloud number nine in our overview of "Cloud computing".
Shownotes for episode KC007 "Cloud Computing."
Timestamp
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I seldom post 'funny video's' but this one is a little exception. Unfortunately for all you non-Flemish speaking people you will be only able to appreciate the acting. This is a cool little video of a local comic who made up this "macho" character called PasCale. For you Yanks : Remember how the Italian Macho's sound in Jersey .. This is kind of the same. PasCale speaks "Cité's" a local variation of our lingo drenched with Italian, Spanish, Greek, Turkish and other accents. He is from 'Genk' a nearby town that is famous for its mining heritage and the fact that a lot of immigrants live there. They came to work in the Belgian mines after the war and the mixing bowl of all those cultures has made Genk one of the most tolerant, multicultural and economically strong cities in Belgium (not to mention they have the hottest chicks) And they have the Lingo to match. For you Belgians .. Welcome To Genk!
Its all over the TV these days. Celebrities trying to impress the crowds (and revitalise their dwindling careers) by doing some ballroom dancing. To me this kind of entertainment is enough to wish for some king of sensory failure of my higher brain functions, but luckily i can just zap away when it gets too much. As for my own attempts at dancing .. they have not been very successful so far. I have trodded on the virtual dancefloor and have been spinning my feet in a futile attempt to learn another dance : The Samba.
No of course not the real "dance" but the SAMBA server on Linux. Filesharing under Windows is based upon the SMB protocol, its open source counterpart is the SMB or SAMBA server. A way to turn a Linux box into a file server where Windows clients can logon to. All pretty great, if you remember our 'Feisty for the Family' series, we managed to get some simple filesharing up and running using a Linux box, webmin and some windows clients. If you use webmin its pretty easy, click to install Samba, Click to install shares, click to add some users and you are basically done. Who said Linux was hard.
So far no problem, unless you try do to things that are a little harder, like turning that Samba box into a Windows Domain Controller. This means that the "linux" box recognizes all the users that log onto the system and gives them the appropriate rights. Instead of having to configure every user manually on the Windows clients, you create them on the Samba PDC (primary domain controller) and let him handle it.
Thats where the problem lies. Trying to let Linux machines do Windows things, works, but the documentation is very very hard to find and damn complicated if you are not an advanced Linux user. I have been wrestling through howto's, fighting with manuals, chatting on IRC channels... and all in all it gets more complicated by the minute. There are a few typical things that still exist in the Linux community and that really need to change : For one : If you ask a question about letting Linux do Windows things, some smart asses still go like " Well don't use Windows then " Thats not the real world now is it. The one and only way to get more Linux out there is to have it exist side by side with Windows. The other pain that is still out there is the "binary" way manuals are written. Sometimes a manual is very nice and easy to follow. Yet sometimes it looks like its been written by some highbrow Linux programmer with much better things to do then to write manuals for us noobs, so he just scrabbles down some commands and some endless code on a strip of paper and tells you to do "man - the command you dont understand because he did not explain it right" whenever you have a problem.
But I have decided not to give up on the whole thing and valiantly continue to stump my toe against the next hurdle, learning more and understanding more about linux in the process. Right up to the point where I CAN ... do the Samba.
As most of you know I'm kind of a Star Trek fan and many of my English writing skills come from reading English novels and literature. Most of these novels are Star Trek paperbacks, of which I have quite a collection. To get my mind off the constant overload of technology I decided to plant myself behind my Asus EEE pc and carefully peck out the first part of a little project I'm working on : My own little Trek fan fic. Don't worry, its not going to be one of these ' Picard vs Kirk ' pieces of crap you find all over the net where you can smell a costumed fan sitting behind his computer yelling "make it so" This is my attempt to fondle with a period of Star Trek history that has always interested me. The time just after 'The undiscovered country" where peace between the Klingons and the Federation is only just beginning and where loyalties are still not settled in on one side or the other. I'll publish the next "parts" as I write them so you guys can tag along.
Star Trek "Fallen Angels"
Star Trek "Fallen Angels" takes place 3 months after the initial Kithomer conference mentioned in Star Trek 6 "The undiscovered country".
Prologue.
The stars shone brightly in the darkness of space. Their glittering pinpoints of light a stark contrast to the inky blackness of deep space. No far stretching horizons, nor the abundance of color of a flowing field of poppies in the summer sun, The simple perfection of silver on black. Ultimate beauty in ultimate simplicity. “odd,” she thought, that she would notice such details amids the havoc that reigned all around her. I'm loosing it .. I'm going mad. But then again.. was madness in an insane world not considered normality ? In her peripheral vision a red glow pulsated off and on. She knew that the pulsing colors should have been accompanied by the blaring sounds of a red alert. But the only thing she heard was the pounding of her own heart. Vacuum did those kind of things. Steeling away the air for the sound waves to ride one, engulfing her in silence. stealing away the air .. Stealing away her friends .. her hope. All of it lost in an instant moment of explosive decompression. She stared out at the stars, Their lights beaconing her through the gaping hole that had once been the port section of the bridge. Now a gaping tattered and jagged black hole, razor sharp pettles of duranium curling out and inward. Was that a peace of uniform caught on there ? she did not want to know.
Looking down she realized she was still clutching the back of the captains chair. Its vacant seat pointing towards the gaping hole. And it was just as empty as the space beyond.. As the rest of the bridge. She prayed it was all just a bad dream.. and if it was not she wished it had happened swiftly.. for everyone on the bridge, For her captain. A voicecrackled in her helmets speakers. Sounding hesitant, in shock no doubt.. and also filled with fear. “ Gomez to Lieutenant Young “ she recognizedthe voice as coming from one of the ensigns that had bailed out on the very errand she was sent on. “ Go to the bridge, find out why they are not responding.. find out what happened” Well now she knew..didn't she. “ Young here” she answered. “We have multiple casualties down here lieutenant,” Gomez continued. “ The chief .. the chief is dead, whats the status up there” She heard herself reply, her voice vacant of any emotion that could comprehend the horror of the situation. “ The bridgehas been exposed to space, everybody is gone.. the captain is ... gone” “What do you mean .. gone” Gomez blurted out. Young continued.. words sliding out as if they where spoken by somebody else “as remaining senior officer..i'm assuming command of this ship” .
Home 
Its all over the TV these days. Celebrities trying to impress the crowds (and revitalise their dwindling careers) by doing some ballroom dancing. To me this kind of entertainment is enough to wish for some king of sensory failure of my higher brain functions, but luckily i can just zap away when it gets too much. As for my own attempts at dancing .. they have not been very successful so far. I have trodded on the virtual dancefloor and have been spinning my feet in a futile attempt to learn another dance : The Samba.
The stars shone brightly in the darkness of space. Their glittering pinpoints of light a stark contrast to the inky blackness of deep space. No far stretching horizons, nor the abundance of color of a flowing field of poppies in the summer sun, The simple perfection of silver on black. Ultimate beauty in ultimate simplicity. “odd,” she thought, that she would notice such details amids the havoc that reigned all around her. I'm loosing it .. I'm going mad. But then again.. was madness in an insane world not considered normality ? In her peripheral vision a red glow pulsated off and on. She knew that the pulsing colors should have been accompanied by the blaring sounds of a red alert. But the only thing she heard was the pounding of her own heart. Vacuum did those kind of things. Steeling away the air for the sound waves to ride one, engulfing her in silence. stealing away the air .. Stealing away her friends .. her hope. All of it lost in an instant moment of explosive decompression. She stared out at the stars, Their lights beaconing her through the gaping hole that had once been the port section of the bridge. Now a gaping tattered and jagged black hole, razor sharp pettles of duranium curling out and inward. Was that a peace of uniform caught on there ? she did not want to know.