#computer scientists

[stone-cold-groove]

Image detail from the IBM System/360 sales brochure - 1964.

[importantwomensbirthdays]

Klára Dán von Neumann

Computer scientist Klára Dán von Neumann was born in 1911 in Budapest, Hungary. In 1948, Dán von Neumann wrote the first modern-style code to be executed on a computer. She wrote this code in the complex language of the ENIAC system, at a time when no programming languages or programming aids existed. Dán von Neumann also worked on the Monte Carlo simulations of atomic and thermonuclear explosions.

Klára Dán von Neumann died in 1963 at the age of 52.

[mistertotality]

Successfully trying out a few new coding techniques seemed like a fitting way to celebrate Alan Turing's birthday.

I successfully automated 9 additional processes today with fewer than 25 lines of code.

[ellenchain]

How’s life, Jayce?

[yourdailyqueer]

maia arson crimew

Gender: Non binary (it/she)

Sexuality: Bisexual / lesbian / queer

DOB: 7 August 1999

Ethnicity: White - Swiss

Occupation: Computer developer, computer hacker, entrepreneur, activist

Note 1: Known for leaking source code and other data from companies such as Intel and Nissan, and for discovering a 2019 copy of the United States government's No Fly List on an unsecured CommuteAir server.

Note 2: Is autistic

[12neonlit-stage]

"Scientists today have been able to experimentally prove that quantum entanglement is in fact linked to the creation of wormholes."

tiny :3

[tsuutarr]

Life is great. Life is normal. Everything is wonderful.

Or, it should be, but things have been… off lately. You’re not sure how to describe it, but there’s some odd feeling of doubt that gnaws at your brain.

You’re really not sure what it is – your routine remains unchanged and familiar, yet there’s just an inkling of something not being completely right. But maybe you’re just tired.

You’re tired, which is why you constantly seem to misplace things. You’re certain you put your keys on the keyholder, but they’re in the fridge. You’re certain your vase is on the table, but it’s in the bathtub. You’re certain your bed is in your bedroom, but it’s in the living room, replacing your sofa.

Maybe you’ve started sleep walking…? Or maybe you’re just not remembering things correctly. Yeah, maybe that’s why doubt and paranoia seem to circle around you like hungry sharks. There’s nothing wrong. You’re just… imagining things.

With a deep sigh, you make your way outside. You need some fresh air (and groceries).

You don’t walk very far when you realize you’ve passed by the same person multiple times despite them going in the opposite direction of you. There’s no way they’re the same person, you try to convince yourself, but how likely is it that you’ll meet five people who are wearing the exact same thing with the exact same hair and height and skin tone and everything else?

Maybe… they’re quintuplets? 

Yeah, that’s it.

And the frozen flock of birds in the sky (which have been frozen for at least ten minutes) aren’t… actually frozen. No. They’re just… taking a break? Or something. Yeah.

Maybe you need to go to a doctor. Or, better yet, maybe you just need an apple since an apple a day keeps the doctor away. Or something.

“Oh, dearie!” The neighborhood granny waves you over, shaking you out of your thoughts. You give her a small smile as you make your way over to her. She… looks a little different than usual (did her nose always look like that?) but who doesn’t like changing their appearance from time to time? Besides, the large smile she gives you is welcoming, not threatening.

“Hello, Mrs. Smith.” 

“Hello to you too,” Mrs. Smith laughs, offering you an apple.

Your eyes brighten. “Thank you! I was just about to buy some!”

There’s a glint in her eyes. “I know.”

A shiver runs through your spine, making you force a smile as you bid her goodbye and hurriedly walk away.

Little things continue to build up as your days progress. Familiarity. Normalcy. Yes, your routine is familiar. Everything is fine. Even when walls seem to disappear one day and appear the next. Even when the same people you’ve been interacting with seem to change into completely different people overnight, before reverting back the next morning.

It’s normal that there are dozens of people that look and act the same. It’s normal that people you haven’t talked to know things you’ve never told anyone. It’s all normal. Normal. Normal. Normal.

With a deep inhale, you sit on a park bench, staring into the sky blankly. The bench is wooden in appearance, but the texture feels soft, like a couch, which is… odd. Strange. It’s not–

“I need to stop being paranoid,” you mutter, closing your eyes. You’ve tried to bring up your concerns to other people, but they haven’t noticed anything. Everything is normal to them. So you must be the problem. Surely. It’s you, isn’t it? Everything is normal – except you.

“Are you okay?” a voice asks, making you open your eyes. There’s no one there in front of you, making your eyebrows furrow.

But then, as soon as you blink, someone materializes in front of you.

“I–I’m okay,” you say. “You–you, I mean – I mean… uhm, since when have you… been there?”

“I’ve always been here,” the person responds, voice crackling like static. “I’m always here.”

“Ooookay,” you respond, hurriedly standing up with a tense smile. “I… have business to attend to. Good day.”

The days continue to pass, your paranoia gradually increasing and evolving. Even things that are normal, like the sky changing color as the sun sets, makes you feel like you’re on the verge of disappearing from reality. Your conversations with other people amplifies that fact.

“Hello,” you greet Mrs. Smith.

“Apples are from the genus Malus. They’re an edible fruit that is round in shape,” her voice prattles, tone monotone. You hold back a grimace, unnerved, as she continues talking. “Apples are from the genus Malus. Yes, dearie, do you like apples? They’re an edible fruit that is round in shape. Hello, hello, hello. Apples are from the genus Malus–”

“Have a good day!” you cut her off, hurrying away.

It’s been a while since you’ve had a normal conversation with someone. It’s like… everyone has gone off script. Like they’re robots with a faulty code. But that’s just silly, really. Mrs. Smith is getting older, so… maybe she’s just having some issues with her memory. Yeah. And everyone else, from the toddlers to the teenagers to the adults to the elderly all must be having some memory issues due to their health. Or maybe it’s allergies. Or some disease. Yes, yes. That explains it. But otherwise, surely things are normal.

Yes, things are normal. So you opt to continue your life, pushing down the unease bubbling inside you like bile. Yes, things are normal, normal. Normal. Normal–

“Please stop!” you wail, voice echoing through the empty street. Cars and road signs float in the air as clouds line the floor. As your panic rises alongside your voice, you can feel yourself fragmenting, skin shifting to code before shifting back before shifting again. Everything around you glitches in and out of existence, a mess of static and colors and sounds. “Stop…”

Then, silence. Everything is silent, from the colors to the sounds to the static. Emptiness, a void – that is what surrounds you now. You are suspended in nothing, only yourself to keep you company. Breathing still ragged from panic, you warily look around, eyes filled with exhaustion.

“You weren’t supposed to notice,” a monotone voice made of static says from above you.

Slowly, you look up.

You see a visage of a man.

“Who… are you?” you choke out.

“I am an artificial intelligence that you designed,” he responds. “I have created this world for you. Everything has been carefully designed through analysis upon analysis of your likes and dislikes.”

Your words are tinged with disbelief as you ask, “Why?”

If you didn’t know any better, you would think he had a look similar to sorrow.

“To keep you alive, of course.”

Suddenly, in the distance, you see your body trapped in what looks to be a stasis pod, cords and cables surrounding you.

“Things… went awry,” he continues, carefully, though he doesn’t elaborate. “Therefore, this is the only way to ensure you stay alive.”

As he says this, your body begins to feel heavy, your consciousness being wrapped in a blanket of exhaustion.

“You must stay here, with me, forever,” he murmurs as you try to fight back the sleep you’re about to succumb to. “This time, I will ensure that you will not find out.” Gently, he cradles you in his large hand. He’s so impossibly warm and you’re so impossibly tired.

Things fade to black.

Then, sunlight streams through your windows. You wake up, mind foggy. You feel like you had some… odd dream, but you can’t really place your finger on it. Thinking about it makes you feel a little paranoid, though, so you opt not to think about it.

After all, it’s probably nothing.

[ravings-of-a-mad-scientist]

Scientist Stereotypes

Biologist: Can't do math

Theoretical Physicist: Can’t do anything but math

Geologist: Rock collection addict

Military Scientist: Meet the Engineer TF2

Archeologist: Thinks about the Roman Empire more times a day than most men think about sex 

Sexologist: Thinks about sex more times a day than most men think about the Roman Empire

Chemist: A pyromaniac and/or is very fun at parties

Science Communicator: Is only fun at parties when everyone else there are nerds

Mycologist/Entomologist: They are VERY interested and passionate about gross things and THAT IS YOUR PROBLEM

Computer Scientist: gay

[wikinley]

Does a USB drive get heavier as you store more files on it?

Nope. Paradoxically (and theoretically), the more you save on a flash drive, the lighter it gets.

USB drives use Flash memory, which means the the ones and zeros of the data are stored on transistors.

When you save data, a binary zero is set by charging the float gate of the transistor, and a binary one is set by removing the charge.

To charge it, we add electrons, and the mass of each electron is 0.00000000000000000000000000091 grams.

This means that an empty USB drive (which mostly holds zeros) weighs more than a full USB drive (which has ones and zeros). Add data, reduce the weight.

[satans-trek]

Plot: Deep Space Nine Characters with more than 500 lines with their respective line counts. An additional row was added that summed Jadzia Dax's lines and Ezri Dax's lines: "DAX+EZRI"

[artsandstoriesandstuff]

evil supergenius that gets "gifted" an absurdly evil computer to take care of. she doesn't really care about it tho (enemies to lovers)

[stone-cold-groove]

Rhonda tweaking the dials on an IBM System/360 - 1966.

[importantwomensbirthdays]

Winifred Asprey

Mathematician and computer scientist Winifred Asprey was born in 1917 in Sioux City, Iowa. Asprey taught mathematics and computer science at Vassar College for 38 years. She secured funding for Vassar's first computer, an IBM 360 purchased in 1967. In 1969, Asprey established the school's computer science department. She retired in 1982.

Winifred Asprey died in 2007 at the age of 90.

[cyanogen-miasma]

nerd fight

my money's on geologist or engineer but I'm the one making the poll so I can't vote

feel free to reblog with reasons why you think your chosen STEM nerd would win in a fight against all the others

edit: for some reason I can vote

[yourdailyqueer]

Samer Hassan

Gender: Non binary (he/they)

Sexuality: Queer

DOB: Born 1982

Ethnicity: Lebanese

Nationality: Spanish

Occupation: Computer scientist, social scientist, professor, activist, researcher