Javascript nonsense

I came across this issue today.
Check these:

maDate = new Date('2011-07-01');
maDate.add(18, 'months');
maDate.strftime('%d/%m/%Y'); // => 01/01/2012



maDate = new Date('2011-07-01');
maDate.setMonth(maDate.getMonth() + 18);
maDate.strftime('%d/%m/%Y'); // => 01/01/2013


Seriously?? If anyone can give an explanation about why two native javascript Date-Object methods give a different result with one of them being Date + 6 months instead of Date + 18 months, I'd be glad to read it.

Clem

Summer feelgood

Hey it's time for this summer's feelgood chill music, sit back and relax and enjoy "Acoustic Funerals on the Moon"


download.


Some might prefer this version as it isn't metal anymore, but still, it sounds weird, plus I didn't put much effort in trying to get the riffs right. Probably not worth it anyways?...

The truth about the Hollow Man

He is a zoophile. Proof:



Allright... bad joke.

Dunkerque's carnival - no comment

Eeeeks I'd be such an easy gal' !!

Castle Bravo

Castle Bravo! hurray fireworks!! - Dr. Zoidberg

Listen to this one and you'll have a blast! (box laughs). This song I wrote the first half of the lyrics a while back. Maybe it was before the '09 summer. Anyway, it all started when Quentin (aka Acolyt #2 aka Ernie Balls of Steel), just popped a chat window at me face saying "how about Castle Bravo?".

This is the story of when a strike of genius
becomes the path of doom lurking amongst us

This story is entitled Castle Bravo!

In the ages of chaos, infamy was born
because any peace attempt was forlorn

A promess of peace made to nations of the rich
To annihilate all they need is to flip a switch

Our incompetent leaders rule the world with fear
Now only thing left to us is our bloodied tears

Those who can purchase peace will be feared forever
Those who can't build their own will leave in fear forever

Diplomatic failures, Surrogates of ambition
Conflicts of interests, Intersecting wills for power

The doomsday clock ticks at an increasing rate
Midnight is coming, time to say your last prayer

For our leaders have finally gone nuts
Warheads ready for lift off, Silos openning all around the civilized world, Red Alert - termination initiated!

(alarms set off)

Missile ballet, a dance of death
Nuclear blasts, mighty fireworks
Sterilization, of the earth's crust
Life vaporized, and will never come back

Those who could purchase peace didn't leave forever
Those who didn't build their own shared the doom of the others.

- It was something like 9am, just got logged in at work. What a hell was he talking about? -

Second chat line: a link to a wikipedia page about this Castle Bravo thing.

It started making sense, Quentin, in his own way was trying to suggest we write a song about an out of control nuclear experiment. Very Thrash Metallish, Dave Mustaine would be proud!

Then I taught about some lyrics, and I didn't feel like writing about a single nuclear blast but about -because I like doom- the whole earth being repaint by atomic fire.

Because I like writing lyrics as short stories that have a intro, development and conclusion I had to explain why oh why would the earth undergo such an horrible fate (or a healthy cure from life infestation).

The story is obvious: our leaders, who are kind of a whole bunch of psychos (you must have strong ego issues to want to be the US president, I'm just saying...) well they go nuts up another notch and start attacking each other with nukes and well we all die, the poor, the rich, the famous, the lonely, all of us, united and equal for the first and the last time.

Musically, I tried to render a growing sense of oppression, of danger until an alarm rings and all hell breaks loose.

My life for metal!

Meeetal! yeah that's the stuff :) Although I've been experimenting different styles, my preference will always go to metal. Why? Because it's awesome (now that's a killer statement used to support a proposition).
First, Metal speaks to me like no other music can. While it can have thunderous hammer smashing face rhythms that pounds your head until adrenaline makes your heart explode, it also has extremely melodic pieces that fills your lachrymal channels with tears of joy... Screaming guitar solos and singers giving all of their heart to the public (and a public that gives it back in the mosh-pit).
Metal is love my friends. It's the love of a brotherhood that have strong values of honor and an epic drive to push artists skills to rocket to the skies of gods music mastery (a good band that lasts over time must have incredible musical skills, it's part of the show, what the audience expects).
Metal is also a mature style that was elaborated on several styles that were already mature at that time. Yes, Metal is based on Rock and Blues, which have proved their value over time. The first Metal band was Black Sabbath. They released their first album in February 1970. Since then Metal has evolved or should I say has mutated in many many sub genres. There is almost a sub-genre per band but one could blur the lines a bit a discover some families. So metal has kind of an endless stream of discoveries waiting for you to find out, tame, and love.

Well, I just went to a Metallica show last night, and damn it kicked so much my ass that I revolved twice around the moon before ultimately crashing into my bed after more than 2 hours of ultimate thrashing.

Love you guys!

Paris Clem: The sweet metal embrace.

Quotes of the dead

I'm still playing around with Garage Band, discovering some new features every day.



One would probably think that I have gone nuts for good after listening to that new stuff. I'll let you guys guess who actually wrote the lyrics.

Happy Halloween!

So today it's Halloween and as it became recently a French tradition (over the last 5 years thanks to some corporations who decided to sell Halloween crap to the French) everyone should wear a costume. Consequently, today I'm wearing a costume at work but no one understood the joke yet(In French "a costume" also means "a suit"). I'll let you know if anyone gets it.

Paris Clem: Such a joker!

The truth about THEM

This morning I had one of these terrible revelations, one of those that wake you up in your life and open your eyes to a new reality. Have you ever noticed how the bums who come in the Metro begging for money always repeat the exact same sentence, how they follow a tight schedule (yes this one same bum you always see at 9:17am), how they are not clean but still not really dirty and so on... There is only one explanation: These bums are NOT for real! They are au contraire government agents who are paid to make you believe your life isn't that shitty after all, because there is always worse than you, there are these poor old bums who beg for money in the metro. They are the voice of the government, whispering into your half awaken ears that everything is in its right place, that it's ok to go slave around at the office, that it's ok to give all the money you earned slavin' around to the state and that's ok to be awaken at this inhuman hour.
Damned I wish I didn't realize this fact this morning and continued living in the bliss of ignorance.

Paris Clem: The revelations you don't want to know.

Vote for the real change!

Yes every vote counts, so if you want to save the world, please vote. But vote for a useful solution, truely new and radical. In these troubled times only one solution is really different. Vote Cthulhu!

Sorry I found this irresistible. Or did I really think about it myself, or was it whispered to me in my dreams... Only one could tell.

The Great Crow Incident

First there is a terrifying scream tearing the sky. Horror from above, the feeling of an evil presence. It's the ghost of my fears, haunting my dreams, the insufferable memory. I am referring to the great crow incident, of course. It all started back in December 2007. I was in Bozeman, Montana (USA). There I was, walking from the university campus to my apartment at the Peter Koch Tower. It was one of these cold, bitter and gloomy day. The silence of the empty block was only disturbed by the crunchiness of my footsteps in the snow. My cheeks blushing, whipped by a freezing northern wind that the Gallatin valley liked to blow on it inhabitants. Suddenly I heard what will always bring chaos in my soul. The Crow was flying, majestically, with an hypnotizing movement. Deploying all his feathers, assured, with what we could interpret as being proud. I was captivated. Then came the shit. My jacket got attacked and the casualty was definitely visible. The attack had collateral damages that I'd rather not describe because this memory is still aching me deeply. The Crow, victorious, was flying, shouting his pride. At this moment I sworn I would one day take my revenge. My honor wouldn't stay unavenged. A stream a fury went trough my body, and I admit I started running after the crow, cursing all I could in all the languages I know with a rare intensity. Dear lord, I hope no one saw me that day, in that street because that person would have been stained and shocked by the absurd scene (or could have died of laughter).