Y2kk Update: The problem with mind games, is that it could all be in your mind... I've finally started playing them with her, instead of playing with my thing and letting her play me for a fool of a fiddle. She's been ignoring me for the past few months or so? Fine. I don't want to bother obsessing about it anymore. I really don't... and thus, you few readers out there (and I'm hoping that she isn't one of them) know that for the first time that I can recall, I've premeditated my own path of discourse, dishonest, demonic destruction and action, and promised myself that I would no longer seek out the girl I talk too much about, even if I wish I would. Every single day, it's the same damn story with her: I try to talk to her, she ignores me, she doesn't give a damn about me, and then I leave in English anguish, sulking in the shadows that the one girl I've truly revealed myself to simply doesn't not take to me any longer... instead, she takes me as... well... nothing... for I truly am the champion of sulking. Too bad she can't be the champion of sucking, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean...

There was just one problem with my plan... I never once realized that I can't really ignore her, if she keeps ignoring me... What I mean is, by now, if she has any know-how whatsoever, she would've realized that I've barely said a word to her all week. Every single time we met, I would speak out some speakeasy pleasantries, ask how she's doing, and then simply retort that I have some place to go and leave. And the thing is, every single time I did that, I was telling the truth. I did have imminent quizzes to study for. I did have lab partners to meet. I did have friends to find to ask for help. The thing was, I've always had all the above, long before I ever became obsessed with her, and long while I had half hours discussions with her on the benches. But the thing was, before now, before Beowulf, I always made time for her, to be with her. I skipped out on studying, just to be with her. I skipped out on meeting my friends on time, just so I could talk to her. She meant that much to me... But now? Now, of course I'm still attached. I don't want to be attached, but goddammit, these obsessions just don't go away like that... It took almost a whole year for me to get over my last high school obsession, the definitive obsession, and who knows? Maybe I'm still not over her, considering I still think of her from time to time...

But the thing was, every single day this week, I tried my best to avoid all contact with the girl I talk too much about, and of course, as always, that eventually led to my personal, own primordial guilt, as predicted, as premeditated, as preordained by the powers that sit on their behinds... And thus today, I was almost willing to give up my charade. I found her in the hallways by accident this morning when arriving at school, and thanks to my beckoning guilt, I tried to make conversation with her... I was going to ask how her job was going. I was going to ask how her classes were going. I was going to say something, just anything, and hope that maybe, just maybe, she'd welcome some welcome words from me again for the first time in over a week... but the thing was... I may not hate her, but of all the ways to hurt me?... I hate this. I really hate this. Because of course, she didn't even recognize that I was there... she was whooping it up with a friend next to her, and she didn't even recognize I was there for the damn longest time. And when she finally did? She simply said hi. A foobar hi. And ignored me for about two minutes, until I finally remembered why the hell I chose to spite her in the first place... I then simply shrugged everything off with a wicked smile, and told the truth that I was supposed to meet my lab partner in a few minutes... I was hoping that she was just doing this to me, out of vengeance against me doing it to her, but alas, even the hourglass is forced to follow the laws of her wicked hand, because she's been doing this to me for goddam months, like moths to a flame... But again, before I left, I tried to say something to her, just to see if she'd respond, but every time I tried, she cut me off, just to talk to her other friend over there, as if I didn't goddam exist or some crap like that... I mean, honestly, like I said, I can always hope that she's doing to me what I'm now doing to her. I can always hope that she once cherished me so damn much that she simply cannot talk to me anymore in fear of being hurt... I can respect that, but it's wishful thinking on my behalf, and only wishful thinking. The truth of the matter is, she's been like this for the longest of times, even before the whole jealousy thing. It's just that when I first met her, I didn't think anything of it. I thought she saw me as special, not just a target to be polite to.

And thus, I now hate her again. Honestly. I was feeling real remorse this morning for being so callous and so damn crude to actually choose to do unto her what she does to me, but now that I've tried to open up to her again?... I'm so damn tired of this no-name soap opera, for I now know, that as wrong as my decision may be, it's the only course of action I have left... save for telling her the truth of how I feel about her that is, not like that will do any good anymore, but that's besides the point... I don't want to be dishonest. I don't want to hold secrets... well, besides the existence of this website, that is... But she leaves me little or no choice. We may always have free will or blah blah blah, but I can't take being stung by her any longer, each and every damn day of the week, every time hoping that it'll be the last time I go home hurt. She once left me speechless because of her charms and delightfulness... unfortunately, I now see they were all just pleasantries, as she does the same thing with every damn person around her. I'm now speechless around her, because she's disgusted with everything I have to say. The damn hypocritical lies of an extrovert, I shall never forget... and never be able to atone for, or change the tone of her tune, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean...

It's just ironic that in the week that I finally tried to gut her insides as she does mine, she still ends up ignoring me more than I could possibly ignore her. The only real reason why every single damn day, every time we met, I told her I had places to go and people to see, is because she herself seemed like she wanted to get the hell away from me more than I wanted to run and hide from her. She would claim that she needed to study, or she would claim that she needed to meet someone, before I ever got the change to shine and give her the rub. But maybe now, after a week of getting the same damn rhetoric smashed back in her face, maybe she'll realize that whatever she's trying to do, it's either working or not. Before, I would try talking to her, no matter where she had to go. I would walk her to classes. I would wish her luck with a twinkle of a smile. But now? Will she notice that I now cringe when I see her smile?... Either she's trying to get my attention because she has feelings for me, or either she just doesn't give a damn about me anymore and wants me to get the hell away. Mixed messages? Hardly. It's just the result of the dishonest, honest-to-God truth. And now I'm choosing to live it. To live a lie. To lie or not to lie, for what lies beneath is that she'll never lie in my bed. Lies beget lies, I'm afraid, but at this point in time, just like her, I just don't give a damn anymore. At least we now have that in common.

I just wonder how long this will last, that's all... if my crush on her is based on selfishness, self approval, and blah blah blah like all the rest, then a few weeks more of this A-train wreck of a situation should cure me of this disease that devours my insides... But though I may finally rid myself of the crush I never wanted in the first place, my heart will now bear and beat the cancer and gall and mits of gnaws of guilt, for doing something I thought I would never do. To ignore. To cheat. To lie. To hide. To sulk. For what must a man do, to be hers?... to actually tell the truth? I did. My truth, at least... But only the truth she wants will help... and I can't give her that... not with her looking... and thus, I now talk of the girl I talk too much about even more, simply because of the fact, that for the first time in my history of crushes, I know it's not just me. I know it's not just my fault that things are the way they are. I've offered to change. I've asked her what's wrong. I tried my best to be sensitive to her feelings. I've tried my best to learn what the hell she wants me to say, and what the hell will make her smile. I lived for her smile. I once lived for her smile. It was my morning. It was summer. It was my summer Olympics in the morning. Now it's just a hurdle... and white men can't jump... Isn't that enough? She says jump, and I say how high?...

And the problem is... well... mind games... this could all be in my mind, and I could now be alienating a friend that hasn't done a harmful thing to me on purpose or what not... that's what I tried to believe for the longest time... but in the end, the only conclusion I could surmise, where all roads lead to Rome, and all thoughts lead to her, is that it's just not me. And it's just not her. It's just the honest-to-God, dishonest truth, it's true, it's true... and it all sounds like so much goddam fun, doesn't it? It's almost worth a smile... just not hers, because God knows it's an endangered species around me these days... wouldn't want to risk killing it, now would I?...

S3: Who would've thunk that S3 is back in action, releasing new drivers to tempt us back into its fold? Saw over at Savagenews that version 12.90.89 for Supersavages in WinXP/2000 is over at: http://ranger.s3graphics.com/swlib/584drv/129089wxp2ks3logo.zip , and version 12.32.26 for Win9x is hidden at: http://ranger.s3graphics.com/swlib/584drv/123226s3logo.zip . For Via ProSavages, version 13.94.07 for Win2k/XP is over at: http://ranger.s3graphics.com/swlib/420drv/139407No_IShld.zip , if it you want utilities with it, http://ranger.s3graphics.com/swlib/420drv/139407Util.zip .

ATI: Just in case you're in the mood, I might as well let you know that DirectX9.0a was taken off of figurative shelves when it was found to be incompatible with the latest Catalyst driver set... who should we thank for that? ATI or Microsoft? How about her then? I can blame her, right?... blame games may be evil, but time to play the game... But anyhew, also just in case you're interested, there's a Hercules Prophet 9700 Pro review at 3dVelocity: http://www.3dvelocity.com/reviews/hercules/9700pro.htm . There's also one at Techspot for the Crucial variety at: http://www.techspot.com/reviews/hardware/crucial9700-sapphire9500pro/index.shtml .

SiS: Yay! I'm actually reporting SiS news on this site for no apparent reason!... But anyhew, some new AGP drivers have arrived for SiS chipsets. Version 1.15 probably does something at: http://driver2.sis.com/agp/agp115.exe .

nVidia: Saw over at Savagenews that new Detonator drivers have arrived on the scene. Don't know what version 43.45 does except for adding GeForce FX support, but get the Win9x version at: http://www.nvidia.com/view.asp?IO=win9x_43.45 . And the Win2k/XP version if highlighted at: http://www.nvidia.com/view.asp?IO=winxp-2k_43.45 .

Y2kk Update: I was hoping this week would be better than the last. It wasn't. It should've been. But it wasn't. And it's all because I couldn't let it go. It's all because I couldn't let her go. This week was the aftermath of all that was corrupt and unholy last week. And because I can never seem to let something go, I lost a part of myself this week, and I'm not sure whether I want it back.

About that cheating thing I talked about in my Tweakui site last week... it turned out to be absolutely nothingness, meaningless, and worthless in the end, as I predicted... I admit, I was real pissed last week when I thought the TA was questioning my ethics. I then felt just as pissed when I realized I actually had cheated, and cluelessly admitted it, albeit I didn't know it at the time... but I knew my TA, in a nutshell or whatever. He's a complete, good hearted wimp (weakly interacting massless(?) particle or whatever...) in person, so it absolutely shocked me that he so blatantly and bluntly accused me in the e-mails that he sent me, as if he was suffering the brunt of a blunt of a bong or some crap like that... But really, I was no longer concerned about the whole thing by Wednesday, the day I could finally talk to him face to face. By then, the novelty of the whole situation had worn off, and all I did was casually walk up to him, tell him who I was, and wait for the onslaught of the little man trying to be king... and, well...

You can consider an onslaught if you will. He lectured me for five minutes straight, as if he had some noble purpose in life or some crap like that. The first two minutes were spent comparing my actions to that of talking during a test. He argued that looking at the answers at the back of the book is no different than sharing answers with your classmates during taboo silence, so why the hell would I be stupid enough to think it was legal?... The last three minutes of his Champion speech was relegated to comparing my actions to that of writing answers on the back of my hand in a bloody exam. He asked me what the difference really was, if there is a real difference, between writing an answer on your palm of your hand or checking it at the back of the book, regardless of whether it was an open book assignment or not. He said that either way, it is cheating, because either way, I was pretending to know something when I really didn't... and, um... well, he just explained away my whole university life there in a nutshell, considering all I do is pretend like I know something. Don't we all?... don't answer that one... But I did have an answer for my beloved TA. I then asked him, is memorizing the answer in your head cheating? What if I had looked at the back of the book before the test, memorized the answer, and modified it to get the new solution? Is that wrong? Is that immoral?... and, um... well... I had literally just said one line compared to his infinite verses and vastness of conjectures and treatises, and yet quite frankly, funnily enough, he was speechless. Utterly speechless. He didn't know what to say... technically, I had just diffused all of his arguments. Memorizing is not cheating, but it also doesn't prove that we know the concepts, as he was trying to define as cheating or what not... and, well... After five whole minutes of listening to him lecture, his jaw simply hung out wide in technicolour screen for a minute, until he finally crossed his eyes, crossed his fingers, assessed his role in the universe, and maybe even crossed his balls, as he simply waved me off, said he wasn't going to penalize me, and let me follow the yellow brick road on my merry way... and thus, I was right. He was a wimp... a weakly interacting, metaphysical meson or whatever particle, or some crap along those lines...

That's what America is hoping. That Hussein and his SCUDs and his WMDs and his MAD MIRVs are WIMPs too... I'm trying to care about the war in Iraq. I really am. And like usual, I feel guilty that I don't, as if I'm subhuman for taking the war in as novel news rather than harsh and deadly reality, but that's besides the point... Because honestly, the way the television portrays the combat? Honestly, can you blame me? It plays more like a cheap video game or a tabloid, naked news report more than an actual war... And as for George Dubya Bush Jr? Can you blame me for not being able to take him seriously? I mean, in his speech Wednesday night, I keeled over laughing when he mentioned in as serious of a tone as possible, "we have done all we can to avoid a war with Iraq"... and, um... that's an oxymoron of a statement if I've ever heard one. It would've been more accurate for him to say, in bloody December or something, something along the lines of, "We will do all we can to avoid a war with Iraq... but... if a war does start on March 19th, 2003, 7:32 pm, eastern standard time in the city of Baghdad, it will not be our fault"... at least he would've been honest there...

But I guess the only wimp that you're going to find here, is quite frankly, me... I've had it. I've lost it. And I don't want it. Not anymore... I mentioned on my MSN site that a shred of hope had formed in the lining and the loins of the girl I talk too much about. She had commented that she's afraid of what I think, afraid of what to feel, possibly meaning that maybe, just maybe, she does care about me on some sort of level... But if she does care? After what I put her through on Wednesday? If I did hurt her again?... I mean... well... I didn't do much, and that's the problem. Because I guess every damn thing she's been honest with me about, has finally hit me harder than I ever could've thought. She doesn't like what I talk about. She's scared of what I have to say. She gets offended at what I try to say. Hell, she gets offended at what she thinks I'm going to say. And it showed. On Wednesday, instead of stepping into a shower, it showed. When I met her on the train, she began to mention her "luck" again, that it was a gift from God or something along the lines of being good enough to believe in him. And even before she could finish her sentence, I saw it in her eyes, that she knew what I was going to say. That she knew I was going to hurt her, that she was a bad girl and I was going to spank her, by shooting her down and her beliefs yet again... and I did. Even knowing this, I did. Because I can't be trusted. I can't be considered a good girl... or, um... nevermind... I argued that if God is perfect, why would he favourtize one person over another? Right and wrong is so subjective, that it's hard for me to believe a "perfect" being would ever take a side... and she actually fought back for a second, with a smile at least. She didn't argue against my principles, but she noted that she never mentioned right from wrong, in which I had to concede, she was right... heh... she had twisted back what I said to her, without addressing the main concern at hand... cool... looks like I have taught her a thing or two, old school, turning her into a naughty, little student, but that's besides the point...

But I had no real qualms with being shot down myself, but rather, I had a problem with myself, for trying to shoot down her... I felt horrible. Terrible. Wretched. Maniacal... like a Dick, a Bush, and a Colin, or whatever walking into a club or some kind of crap... because I've always been this way. I cannot change. Not enough to please anyone, I mean... It's no wonder she's afraid of what I think. Because I do think things that she would never want me to think. And I hate that. I hate that I think these things about her. She has every right to care, because how can I possibly be trusted?... and the thing was, on Wednesday, I had shot myself down in so many more ways than one. I was a jerk. I was a joke. And the thing was, I couldn't let myself do it anymore. I couldn't let myself inadvertently talk about anything that might hurt her, or anything that she doesn't give a damn about. I was tired of stealing the show, and tired of stealing her soul in the process. She's a wonderful person, and I'm ruining her character by proving her to be out of character. I was acting as a Chaucer of a Devil's Advocate. I always have, and possibly always will. She makes me want to be a better man, but the problem is, all I am is a bitter pill of a man to swallow. This is all I am. A man who wants to be better, but a man who will never be what she wants me to be... and because the only thing I can talk about with her, is the crap I always talk about, the crap she doesn't give a crap about, I was now out of things to say. As we were waiting in the wings for our respective buses, I tried to think of something to say, something she'd care about, something that wouldn't shoot her down, but alas, I simply could not, because that's all that I am. That's all I ever talk about. And I can't say anything else. And that's what hurts. Not just that I'm so damn one dimensional, so damn insecure, and so damn insensitive... it's just that, she knows all this. I told her all this so long ago, I told her who I am, and now that she knows what I am firsthand?.. now that she knows, and knowing is half the battle... now that she knows what I am and who I truly am... the problem is, she now avoids me. She relished the fake me, the me I never cared for her to know. And as soon as she witnessed the real me, the me I so wish that she or somebody could simply accept and cherish like an angel of a cherub?... I find that I'm as repulsive to her as all of the other crap guys she complains about to me. I'm no different than the rest. I'm a subset in a set, if and if only, but, um... nevermind...

I had to say something to her though, if only as a closing remark. My mind was blank, yet my mind was racing, and I knew I had to say something, so I did... but I shouldn't have... as a final note, I remembered that she was taking CPR first aid lessons on the weekend, so I wished her a benevolent good luck... I then opened my mouth again, and uttered something that I thought was innocent at the time, but ended up as just plain awkward and impulsive: "make sure to take plenty of pictures of you kissing the mannequin"... I honestly didn't think my whimsical comment meant anything or anyone, but of course, I guess my stupidity enjoys cloaking and shrouding me in more stupidity and ignorance than I ever thought possible... because as soon as the girl I talk too much heard this, with a half offended tone and half relieved tone, oddly enough, she half joked and half seriously remarked, "Ivan, that's rude! I'm not going to forgive you for that"... and the thing was, I don't know why, but I just couldn't give a crap then and there whether she was actually insulted or not, or whether she would forgive me or not. And that's why sadly enough, I felt like crying on the bus ride home. Because I knew, then and there, in my heart, that it was over. Of course I still have feelings for her, but now my eyes are open. There truly is no difference between her and the rest. She's no better than my obsession ever was, and no better than the Beautifully Minded girl ever was. The latter only spoke to me out of pity, the former only looked at me out of respectful fear and disgust. And the girl I talk too much about only looks at me because it's in her nature. By being the kindest girl I've ever met, she has ended up being the greatest tease I've ever met. And regardless of whether I have feelings for her or not, the truth of the matter is, I don't want to care about them anymore. I don't want to care about her anymore. I never wanted this in the first place. We were supposed to be friends.

I honestly don't know how it's come to this. Everything between us was so perfectly giddy and great, until the day I opened my big ass of a mouth to mention that she was jealous, and until the day she finally admitted to me that she doesn't care for most of the things I say... It was then that I realized that all along, she's been faking it to me. Actually caring, I mean... and it was there that I realized, she's not who I had hoped she would be. Call me selfish if you will, but truth be told, my vision of love is one where the girl accepts me for who I am, which means when I say I'm sorry, she believes me, and that life will go back to the way it was before anything happened... All love is for me is self-acceptance, and I swear, I will cherish and worship the girl who actually accepts me for what I am, if that's ever possible... That's the way my brother's always been. We actually do forgive and forget, in reality rather just words, but I now see, the girl I talk too much about is incapable of either one... Something is wrong. I haven't been able to talk to her in weeks, but she won't tell me what's bothering her, if something is bothering her, even though I've asked her on several occasions or whatever... Maybe it's completely my fault that this whole mess started, considering from a Freudian point of view, it's not that hard to see that I subconsciously made her hate me, if only to prove my personal beliefs about myself right in the end. That I'm a jerk. That I'm a joke. That I'm a WIMP, that nobody can ever love... But regardless of who's fault this is, all I know, is that I don't want to give it a chance anymore. Me and her, I mean... I don't want to give up, but what choice do I have? It's not like I was making progress in the first place or whatever kind of crap.

I hate the feeling of giving up, so I'll argue that I'm not really throwing in the towel that should've been drenched by now in her own sweat and panty fluids... or, um, that didn't come out right, so, um, nevermind... it's just that, I feel like a fool, for chasing her around when she didn't give a damn that I was there. I memorized her lecture schedule like any good stalker. I knew which labs she'd be in, and what times she'd board the train. I orbited my schedule around her, as if she was the Sun or some Black Hole or something that would devour me, just so I could manage as much one on one time with her as possible, without the possibility of outside interference to ruin my wooing efforts... as friends hoping to be more than friends, of course... But considering what I put her through on a daily basis, and considering what I put myself through each and every damn day, I just don't want this anymore. All I want, is to let it go... all I want, is to set her free, and hope she doesn't come back broken... but it's not like I'm going to ignore her, or avoid her... not anymore than she avoids me, at least... I just won't actively seek her out anymore, that's all. I follow her around like a bitch right now. And now? If I see her? Great. If not. Sure, I'll beat myself over the head with an ugly stick for it, but at least hopefully, she won't have to do it to herself... unless she actually does care for me... But really, for now, it's just a question of whether I can trust myself or not, to keep this promise to myself or whatever kind of crap.

I know this is all my fault, and for all I know, it's all in my mind. Love to me is just self-reassurance, though the best self-reassurance a man can ever get. A Gillette of a self-absorbent reassurance if you ask me, but, well... nevermind... but anyhew, all she does is make me feel less of a man, as if I were a boy. We've had a talk of this, actually... me compromising and comparing myself to a boy... I was hoping she'd want a boy, because that's all I am. But no, she wants a man. A hard ass statured, sculptured statue of man... I remember long time ago, we had a discussion on the movie, A Beautiful Mind. She commented on how miraculous John Nash was to both win love and win the Nobel Prize, despite his war with schizophrenia. And of course, like always, I just had to burst her bubble on the world, revealing that in real life, Nash divorced his wife, was a cruel and spiteful man, and didn't even bother showing up to the Nobel Prize award ceremony... This devastated her, to a small degree at least. But that's when I tried to be my own hero and force on her my own philosophy on life, that why should we concentrate on whether the movie is real or not? A Beautiful Mind, whether it was realistic or not, is a beautiful movie. It's a work of art. And that's all I care about it. It's a movie. It was moving. It shows what we care about, and that's all I care about.

But ay, there lies the rub, 'cayse therein lies the difference between her and I. She had never taken the film as a movie, but rather a biography on love. She had taken it as a staple of what real love can be, while I always considered the romance to be novel, or just a novel, considering a neurotic geek would never look as good as Russell Crowe, and considering a WIMP like Nash would never get a girl as fabulously erotic as Jennifer Connelly or however you spell her name... The girl I talk too much about saw the duet as the way things truly are, like a perfect mathematical equation of the heavens. I saw the two as the way things ought to be, as a perfect world that can never shake hands and collide with our real one... and, well... It's not the differences between the two of us that has killed whatever connections we used to share. The abyss between our beliefs is not what left me speechless and morbidly depressed when I was with her Wednesday... it was the fact that, well... I knew. I finally knew. And my heart ached and skipped a beat, because I finally knew it... that what truly separates us apart, is that she lets the differences between us tear us apart. The real difference between us, is that she sees the differences between us as a divider, while I see it as the reason that I have feelings for her... The source of our troubles with tribbles, is that she sees polar opposites as a minus, not an attraction...

I told her so many times in the past to never settle for a man less than her dreams. I was just trying to tell her the way things ought to be, the way things should be, in an ideal aether of dreams... But unfortunately for me, she actually listened to me for once. And she took what I said to heart, as the way things truly are. If she can ever live a dream, I will shiver in the back and applaud her in tears, but I will be at least content in the fact that she has found happiness, if such happiness is true... but if I'm right, and a dream can never be? Then all I can do is wait. Wait for God knows how many years until she's ready, for somebody like me. But until then, I just don't want this anymore. I want her, but I don't want this. And I knew this. I finally knew this in my heart that Wednesday. And it chilled me to the bone, that I'm going to be a complete WIMP, and hide from her the same way she hides from me... Hide from my dreams I mean, but dare to dream I say... dare to dream, if and if only...

ATI: I normally just stick with default drivers now (the ones that come with the video card or the OS system), since I don't play PC games very often. But if you're like I was, and try every single driver update, just to see if it'll get you one extra fps in some game that nobody ever gives a damn about, then you'll want to read Firingsquad's Catalyst 3.2 driver report, over at: http://firingsquad.gamers.com/hardware/catalyst_3.2/default.asp .

ATI: A new RadClocker and RadLinker for Radeon cards has been released. I don't know what this tweaker does, but considering I'm getting my Radeon 7500 card this weekend (hopefully), maybe I'll look up version 1942 or whatever at: http://www28.brinkster.com/chrisww1942

nVidia: Saw over at Rage3d that a new Rivatuner tweaker has arrived. Version 2.0 RC12.3 adds some new Detonator driver support and some low level AGP tweaks or something, so go ahead and just check out the goods at: http://www.guru3d.com/rivatuner/ .

Y2kk Update: This is exactly why I didn't want another crush... because I knew this would happen. That I'd go all ga-ga stupid all over again... I was hoping that I would never develop a crush on her. I tried every excuse not to like her in the book. And yet now, here I stand, and just like all the rest before her, all I can think about is her. Even during a week as crappy as this one (which I'll save for my Tweakui update of the week), all I can think about is her. And sadly enough, it's because I care about her so damn much that I end up hating and loathing and spiting and exacting vengeance on her almost every single, sired damn day of the year. I tried to hate her before I started liking her, if only to prevent myself from ever falling into her trap and the guise of a tease of a girl for God knows how many umpteenth times in my damn life. And yet I was never able to harbour any grudges or angst against her. Not even once. Not until I started thinking about her daily, and started talking too much about her... for it's only when you care about someone, or at least you think you care about someone, that you get hurt. And you know why I hurt?

Because I can't stand that she doesn't care. She doesn't even pretend to care. Not anymore. That's honesty for you... No, that's human nature for you. That's her nature for you.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I'm a freakin', jealous freak. I know I shouldn't let it tweak my hinges every single time she winks her eye or cracks a smile at the thousands upon thousands of would-be suitor guys who come strolling down the hall each and every single day. It's jus that, I can't stand it how she always does her girlous, flirtous crap when I'm around, to everyone around but me. It's a vehement cycle, a viscous cycle, a vixen cycle, and I'm goddam sick of it all. Every single damn day... I'm goddam sick of her always ignoring me for somebody else, and I'm goddam sick of me, for actually caring enough about her to let this tear apart my very insides. Every single damn day, it's the same goddam Groundhog day of a loop. I go to school. I joke to myself that I'm going to end up hating her, then loving her by the end of the day. It always comes true. I hate being right.

I never got around to writing this on my MSN site, mainly because of goddam mid-term and failure season, but I was hurt last week when I asked to accompany the girl I talk too much about to her next lecture or whatever. I needed to make a drop off to one of my friends in her class I mean, so I asked if I could follow her like a rag puppy doll all the way to her room... Of course she agreed. Why would she not? Since I worded my words like a complete gentleman... And so we started chatting, and one-on-one, she's always a delight to be with. But of course, the girl she had sat beside in the lecture we had just left decided to say hello to her again, which I have no problem with. My problem was, as soon as this girl butted in, I was shunned out of the picture. I was left out in left goddam field. Sure, I know this could've been because I'm a shy guy. Three's always been a crowd to me, and thus, I can blame this all on me, as feelings of guilty insignificance, right? But I swear to God, it wasn't my fault this time. She literally did turn away from me and never did look back. When she was talking to me, she seemed like she didn't care. She just shrugged off everything I said, as if she had heard it all before. And maybe that's the problem. Maybe I was always just novelty to her. Because why, oh why, did she have to do this to me? No matter how many times I subtlely tried to get back her attention that day, she resisted my attempts ten fold and just kept on laughing and laughing and bellying so damn hard with that girl I had no Kevin Bacon's Beef with up until that day. I didn't try to cut back in to the conversation, per say. I didn't want to be rude, but I tried to say something. Anything. And yet the girl I talk too much about just wouldn't stop yakking to this new girl on the block, even though she was talking to me first. I guess I'm just not interesting anymore. I guess I was just a toy.

That alone didn't piss me off. It's the fact that just a few weeks ago, the girl I talk too much about, in her chaste little way, chastised me for going silent enemy whenever a friend of hers cuts into our little chats. But the thing was, last week I saw her once again as she truly was, as the hypocrite that we all know we are. I was honestly trying to be polite while trying to get back into the game. I didn't panic. I didn't push her buttons. I didn't act like the bloody idiot I always do. And yet she ignored for almost five minutes straight. She just flat out ignored me. And for who? For what? Why, is all I want to know. I can pray she ignored me because deep down inside, she wants to see how I'll react... that maybe, just maybe, she treats me differently because she cares... but in reality... all my brain can really muster is, she just doesn't care enough about me, otherwise she'd at least notice me in the bloody corner of her pink eye. Either that, or she still hasn't forgive me for that little thing of ours so many months ago, but that's just goddam wishful thinking... things have changed since then, although they were already changing by that point...

And yet despite all this, despite my kindred, Kinder surprise hatred of her, she managed to turn it all around in our train conversation on the way home. I don't remember what we talked about anymore. All I remember, is that she managed to sweet talk Alabama me back into caring about her all over again, just to keep me under control. By the time our ways parted, I had forgotten all about the pain she had caused me that day, as if she was my one and only, special darling all bloody, broody, broady over again... And hell, some people claim that repeatedly falling back in love with a single person is one of the greatest experiences on earth. For me, if this is what you call love, it's one of the worst damn things I have to put up with in life. Every single damn day is the same. Whenever a friend of hers comes along, she ignores me. Whenever a stranger comes along, she ignores me. And yet as soon as she goes one-on-one with me, she butters me up to the point where I'm so damn whipped that I don't have the guts to tell her the damn truth. And the truth of the matter is, I care about her. I care about her so much now, that I wish I didn't care about whether she goddam cares about me. I'm scared that I'm inadvertently hurting her. But the truth of the matter is, I'm not. You can only hurt somebody who cares.

The pattern was finally broken on Wednesday, when I didn't find her until our train ride home. Because there was absolutely no-one else to talk to, she talked to me like I was there for once. She smiled at my jokes, and gleamed at my remarks, and tenderly replied at my words, and thanked me whenever I asked about her feelings and her day. We really didn't say anything significant, although she did tell me she doesn't (or refuses to) understand why I take friendships so seriously, and I finally did admit that it gets harder and harder to talk to her, every time I see her. I know she's bored of what I have to say. I know I talk about stuff she doesn't care about, which she's told me. But I told her I still love talking to her, because she's such a great conversationalist, with such a great personality... I didn't however, admit that she has a little too much personality. Whenever somebody who's higher than me on her food chain or whatever comes along, I get immediately pushed off to the side, as she smiles and waves to them as if they were her favourite pet of pals in the world. She is just so damn social and so damn pleasant that she seems to change and please every single man who comes by. And the only time she ever does it for me, is when we're alone. It's truly a mixed, warped, goddam blessing. She keeps suckering me in with her puckering, numbing my brain to the point where I don't remember my own goddam name, and then shoves me off to the side whenever somebody smarter, funner, funnier, better looking, or all the above, shoves his or her way into her life. I'm second rate to her. Even worse, I'm Three's company. After it was cancelled.

Of course, I attributed all these feelings of mine to my own jealousy at first, but as each and every day went by, something would happen to prove to me that it's not just my imagination, that another piece of the puzzle would finally fall in place, all to lead me to one epiphany of a symphony of a conclusion... That it's not me. It's her. She is avoiding me. Or at least, she takes a leave of absence and waves off whatever I have to say whenever somebody more interesting comes along. Or when anybody comes along, regardless of who they are... We had a great conversation on Wednesday, but of course, the cycle just had to repeat, and Thursday just had to end up being a total bitch. It was an absolutely horrid day, which like I said before, I'll explain on my tweakui site tomorrow. My only consolation, was that something I said I to her that I wanted would finally come true. I told her that in my eyes, true personalities only come out when you're depressed enough to you let your social guard down. I told her I hated polite people, because a) I could never figure out how to feign politeness, and so I've become unjustly bitter, and b) uber-polite people always end up being so damn cruel to me when it counts... when it really counts... I had told her I was waiting for the right opportunity, the perfect opportunity, the see people's real personalities in action. All I needed, was just one day where everyone was pissed... of course, she scoffed off my claim and joked that I was talking about her. And of course, I laughed at her joke... she thought I chuckled because she was right, about me joking. The problem was, I was laughing, because she was right, about it being about her. It's always been about her.

And I was given at least a shard of proof of this yesterday, that I was right about her. When I finally saw her outside of the tutorial room where we had just gotten back our Electronics mid-terms, I wanted to tell her about all the crap I had suffered that day, just to see her reaction. I just wanted to see whether she cared or not, or whether she would just brush me off like she did that fateful train wreck of a day when she simply ignored how I was feeling, repeating like a parrot that it'll be alright... If there's one thing in life I desire, it's to just be goddam believed. She's never given that to me for one damn day, just one damn, fine day. And if there's another thing I crave in life, it's to be the center of attention, when I really truly feel I need to be. That's always been my Achilles Hell of a Heel, my worst of a blurst of a blurt of a problem, when I'm depressed enough to let my non-existent high guard down. All I wanted yesterday was a fit of silence from her, or an ear to listen, or just something. Some reaction from her that was real, and not just some polite, answering machine response. That's all. I didn't want any fake reassurances. I didn't want her to change the subject. I didn't want her to tell me to cheer up, because it'll all be alright in the end. In fact, all I wanted was to prove her wrong. That I was right. That I did so damn badly, that even my own predictions on that train wreck of a ride of a day were understatements of my goddam overestimations and goddam underachieving. I wanted to show her, I wanted to prove her wrong, that all she said to me was a lie. All I wanted, was to prove to her that I, for one, do not lie. All I wanted, was for her to take me seriously for once. To believe me, not just pretend to believe in me like we do to every Joe Smoe on the streets.

And yet, I wasn't even given the chance to stand before her tribunal, act as my own Archon, and tell her how I felt, or what had goddam happened. As soon as I came over to her and said hello, a swarm of three or four of her classmates all literally pushed me aside, took their place by her side, probably wishing they could drill her insides. I tried to tell her about what happened, but she couldn't hear me over the inane dribble of her other would-be suitors competing to get her attention... and, well... the thing was, she chose to ignore me yet again. She knew I was there. She knew I was there first, and yet she chose to talk to every bloody person but me. All the people who had pushed me aside had her complete and undivided attention... or so they thought... because I swear, if only for a moment, just by the look in her eyes at that moment, I knew that she was upset. I knew that she was shocked, surprised, or even depressed, if only for a moment. And it was real. She was real. For once, she was real... and that's what really hurt...

I know I was selfish, trying to steal the spotlight by trying to tell her my Knight's tale. When it counted most, I cared more about myself than I did for her, and for that, I truly am sorry... and forever a hypocrite... but her? For the first time since she told me off long time ago, I could see the look of hurt on her eyes. Whether it was because of me, or her noble ornament suitors, or the exam, or all the above, I'll never truly know. But one thing's for sure... when she was most hurt, when she was most depressed, when she was least happy... she still didn't give a damn about me... she still didn't care about me... she still didn't care whether I cared about her... instead, she just talked to everyone else but me about her mark, no matter what I tried to start to say, and she didn't even acknowledge that I was there. And as soon as I turned my back to check on my other friends for one damn minute? I turned back, hoping to finally get a word with her... and she was gone... gone with the wind, or a gust of God's wind, or the song of the foghorn of the Siren, or some crap like that... she had left, without uttering a single damn word to me. She didn't even care how I did. She didn't even give me her goddam, Princess polite wave... She had left me all alone, even though I was so desperately seeking just some sort of a Solaris of a solace from her... and she knew... she knew what I wanted... she had to know... I'm as easy to read as a goddam book, although hopefully easier to read than my goddam crappy updates... and ay, there lies the rub. That she'll forever rub me the wrong way, and never where I wish she'd rub, because now, finally, I truly did know the truth. I saw who she really was, and I figured the real truth. I just hope I never forget it, no matter how many times she plays me for a fiddle of a fool.

That in the here and now, she just doesn't give a damn about me. Not at all, no matter how hard I try to will it. And I knew this would happen... because no girl but the ILuvYou girl has ever given a damn shame but shame about me... and this is exactly why I didn't want another crush. Not now. Not ever. Not another goddam, stupid crush who doesn't even recognize that I'm there... She does a good job of pretending like she does, when it's just me and her and I essentially have her cornered like a caged animal. Her charms are her talons. Her wits are her claws. It's just her nature, to be as polite and delightful and flirtful as possible... to everyone... to literally, goddam anyone... and that goddam includes me... I'm not special to her. Reality check. I never have been. I'm just another guy in the crowd to her. And every single day, she craftily and masterfully manages to convince me otherwise, and then shoots me down time and time and hourglass again, slapping me in the face with harsh, brutal reality. She's not playing games with me. It's just her nature. It's in her nature, that she doesn't care. She just doesn't care. And she doesn't care that I for one, bloody goddam care... and the cycle repeats... love, hate, love and war... forever and ever, like true love is supposed to be, the bloody cycle never ends... I'm not special to her. I never have been. This is exactly why I didn't want another crush. Because I'm just another guy in the crowd to her.

Some things never change.

ATI: Well, ATI actually seems determined to provide good drivers these days, if only to keep their name from being tarnished like a certain S3 was... Anyhew, some new Cataylst drivers have arrived. Don't know what version Catalyst 3.2 6.14.01.6307 does, since according to my mid-term marks and my TA who's beating my over the head with an ugly stick right now, I don't know anything. But you can get that version for Windows2k/XP at: http://pdownload.mii.instacontent.net/ati/drivers/wxp-w2k-radeon-7-84-030228a1-008040c-efg.exe . Version 4.14.01.9088 for Windows9x is over at: http://pdownload.mii.instacontent.net/ati/drivers/wme-radeon-7-84-030228a1-008040c-efg.exe .

ATI: If you're looking for some previews on the Radeon Mobility 9200 and 9600, then go ahead and check the early birds I saw at Rage3d, swallowing worms whole like cocks... or, I mean, crows... at Rage3d: http://www.rage3d.com/previews/mobility9600/ . At Anandtech: http://www.anandtech.com/mobile/showdoc.html?i=1802 . And at Hot Hardware, even though I still have no clue who they are at: http://www.hothardware.com/hh_files/S&V/m10preview.shtml .

ATI: Saw over at Rage3d that a new Rage3d Tweak has arrived on metaphorical shelves. Vesion 3.8b has some new overclocking stuff at: http://www.rage3d.com/r3dtweak/ .

Y2kk Update: I've never really been one for a good prank, but I do have to give props to the ones I saw at school the other day. Now, there's always been an annual bashing of a car with a sledgehammer in the front lawn of the engineering campus, so I didn't think much of it a few weeks ago when the cool geeks of engineering did the whole slew of things all over again... The Mechanical engineers however, did catch my attention this week, when I strolled into the front foyer one day, and sort of noticed that there was a car, bubbling with frozen water inside, just sitting smack down in the middle of the center of the place... Now, the car itself wasn't a very impressive feat of a thing. Anyone can buy a car for a hundred bucks and sink it with water. But I just couldn't help but give a thumbs up to the non-existent guys who did this, because unless there was a garage nearby somewhere, there was no way in Hogan hell that the mechanical engineers could've gotten the damn car into the building in the first place... unless they either screwed down a hell of a lot of doors, or they actually tore apart and pieced back together the car itself, just for shits and giggles... and did a damn fine job of we were soldering in the process... but either way, they deserve major props, for a prank that even impressed me.

But alas, I guess the prank impressed more than just me, because it was simply a stroke of genius what the chemical engineers did for their own prank two nights ago. I strolled once again into the front foyer early yesterday morning, expecting to just see the car there, still filled to the brim with semi-evil water of some sorts... when what do I see, but girlish balloons covering the entire deck of the floor, and a giant fountain made with a shower head springing forth the water that was contained in the car in the first place?... heh... the post-feminism girls at chemical engineering actually used the mechanical engineers' own prank against them, by using the car as the bottom of a bloody beautacious, water fountain. Twas a stroke of genius indeed, by giving the mechanical engineers a taste of honey and their own juices, and causing a few strokes in the process too... Although it's obvious how the Chems made the contraption (just take a shower thingy, drill a hole in the top of the car, and let succubitches do the rest), I still have to give them major credit for not just creative innovation, but for making a work of art. Somehow, just listening to the sound of rain clashing on metal, and the sound of rain drops keep falling on my head, has cheered up the entire engineering building by so damn much... It'll be a shame Monday morning, when I walk in to see the whole damn show gone... unless, of course, we computer engineers decide to build upon this engineering monument of ours in some sort of way, not that I'd know about it, of course... If I'm out of the loop when it comes to my own life, just imagine what it's like when it comes to others...

Anyhew, I guess you've figured out that I have absolutely nothing to talk about this week, considering I'm talking about a prank instead of my bloody self for once... The thing was, I'm ashamed to say this, but my damn bloody nervousness almost pulled a fast one over me too this week, as it was finally time for that god-awful History of Science presentation of mine. The thing was, almost as if by magic, just hours before my damn presentation was to start, my damn stomach started cramping up, and I thought I was going to hurl. I was honestly in a crapload of pain, and even though I knew deep down inside that it was all due to nervousness, I refused to believe that the "aforesaid" (or afro aphrodisiac) was the reason why. Because I mean honestly, sure I haven't done a presentation since high school, but I've been there and done that in front of audience. There was absolutely no damn reason for me to feel like I was going to keel over and swim with the fishes, and yet just to relieve the pain, I was almost willing to dunk my head in that fresco of a water car fountain in the foyer, and find out if it really was water that was bubbling in that glove of a compartment over there...

Of course, I finally got my medical explanation when I was finally up to bat as the skipper and slugger of the history world. I told the class right before the presentation that I wasn't feeling well, probably because of the massive torrent of snowfall outside, but just miraculously, just by a gift of a gust of God's wind, by the time my presentation was up, my gut wasn't feeling bad at all... at least, not physically, I guess... But mentally? Pathogenically? Psychologically? Supraluminally? My brain felt like sugar on ice, or like the coolest game on earth, as I couldn't have been more pissed, simply because I brought my unfortunate predicament all on myself... Because you see, I hate forced presentations, or at least presentations where the presenter seems to deliver every line with rehearsed forcefulness. I wanted to walk into that tutorial room of mine with a clean slate, and give the class the only honest and spontaneous presentation our stupid class of engineers has ever seen. I'm all about honesty, and so I walked into that war zone, hoping to strike a balance, strike a cord, and play the middleman between being organized and disorganized... but alas, even the hourglass is forced to follow the laws of men, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean, because my goddam plan misfired and bloody backfired behind my goddam enemy lines.... You see, maybe because of sheer nervousness, or maybe because I hadn't even read the guidelines of my own goddam plan of action or whatever, I kept jumping from point to point, backtracking from here to there, unable to explain a single thing properly anywhere in between. At one point, I was trying to define how Descartes described the creation of fire from air, and then realized that I forgot to mention the difference between fire and air way back in my presentation when I was supposed to goddam introduce it all. So I backtracked, and started describing the Descartes crap that I missed, where I eventually lost track of myself again, and forgot to get back to whatever the hell I was talking about in the first place, before I screwed up...

But I guess you have to take the good with the bad, I, um... guess. So allow myself to introduce myself, because although I looked like a bloody idiot of a baffoon of a balloon fountain up there (especially considering the girl who went after me was so damn confident and so damn proficient that she seemed to have her entire half an hour presentation memorized to a goddam Mr. T), at least I woke the crowd... enough to see how much of a bloody moron I was, which has been always my subconscious gel of a goal, but that's besides the point... The point is, eventually halfway through my presentation, I said "screw it", both in my mind, and, um... just a little too loudly for the class to hear... Eventually, I just started complaining about the crap I was explaining, complaining about how stupid Descartes' theories were and how damn dumb it was that I had to read through 40 bloody pages just to learn bloody crap like this. And since I had gone off topic, and now was just frantically being honest IvanFian me, the crowd actually laughed. Nobody had ever laughed at a presentation before in our goddam class of engineers, but by God, I had done it... They weren't laughing with me. They were laughing at me. But goddammit, that's all I've ever asked for. They had me at hello. Almost brings a tear to the eye, whether it be happy or sad or a rain drop that keeps falling on my head, but that's besides the point... I started making no-name wisecracks about myself and about the crap I was talking about, and for the last half of my presentation or whatever, even if I couldn't explain the crap I was supposed to explain properly, at least I got people to pay attention. By calling Descartes' theory of whirlpool heavens my own, personal "funnel cake theory" (long time Y2kk readers will know about that), I even got the god-evil TA to crack a smile or two, as for some odd reason, he was the only one who got that bloody joke. Either way, like I said, you take the good with the bad. I completely goddam embarrassed myself for the first half of my presentation, simply because I was trying to be smart for once. But when I reverted back to being the honest-to-God idiot that I shall forever ever be?... well then, at least my stomach didn't hurl and hurt so much any gray poupon or whatever anymore... not until I see the bloody mark I'm going to get on my no-name presentation, but that's besides the point...

Anyhew, I really have nothing left to say, though I did run into my old, best, high school friend yesterday... literally, actually... I was running to catch the train when I saw him brush me by. We had struck arms by accident, and he still didn't recognize me? And sure, I felt stifled, almost like Stiffler, but I decided that I'd feel too damn guilty with myself if I just let this opportunity pass me by, so I caught back up to him, and we actually had a decent chat for the next few hours or so... One thing that bugged me right off the bat, was that even though he hasn't called me in God knows how many months (or even years), he was acting towards me as if we were still the best of chum radios. He had purposely ad purposefully locked me out of his life, out of fear that I would bring back sorrowful memories of his long lost love or whatever kind of crap, and yet he was giving me Geno beat hugs by the end of our conversation? Wasupwidat? A kiss of death?... But while that pissed the hell out of me, at least I felt reassured about one thing. He hasn't changed. He may wear the leather duster now, and have a fine beard or whatever kind of Sinbad crap, and may brag about getting hangovers and having the ability to get a date with any girl that he asks, but he's still the same geek from a remote, spoiled, smallville town that I've been friends with for the longest of times. I tried to talk about what he wanted to talk about at first, about him having difficulties in certain subjects, and of him still holding onto his dream of Harvard... but either because he knew I was faking my forceful listening to him, or because he himself is still a geek at heart, by the time we got back to his dorm room, he just started zanging and talking about the good ol' days of Star Trek, the new days of Stargate, and bloody hell, we talked about Nintendo and the Zelda series for a goddam hour alone... it was cool... And he never seemed to get bored of it, and because these were all my favourite hobbies in life, I didn't get bored either. I got scared that he was just being polite to me, that he really didn't care about these things anymore but knew that I did, but besides all that, I was actually happy. For a couple of hours of my life, I had my old best friend back... and now for God-knows-how-long, I'm back to being me, just Regulus IvanFian me, with university friends who like me but don't care much of me, and another best friend who'll be moving away soon enough, before we even get a chance in hell to see Wrestlemania X9, the showcase of immortal friendship...

And, well... at least I'll always know that when in doubt, I can probably fall back on my high school, best friend... I mean, I forgot that his birthday was last week, and yet he still didn't care much of it. I guess he called it even, considering he hasn't bothered to get in contact with me for almost a year, including my birthday, but that's besides the point... The point is, I've always seen myself as the old mare, not the bloody mary. I'm not cool. I'm not hip. I'm not ducka ducka. And I sure as hell ain't no drinking partner, or even a duck that keeps dunking his head in bloody car water... But what I am, is all I am. I am the guy friends fall back on. When their new friends ditch them, they come crawling back to me. It's always been that way. I may not be fun, but I am funny. I may not be Latin or satin, or even lactose intolerant, but I am loyal. And I may not be a whirlpool of laughs, but at least I can offer a funnel cake or two. And sadly, that just isn't enough for most of my friends... but at certain times, just at certain times, I can remember the good ol' days of so-called Chinese childhood innocence, and recall that at certain crossroads in life, I am the knave that people seek wise man council from... I am the old mare that knights and hopefully maidens fall back on...

Though God, he certainly didn't fall on me for advice in movies... I mean goddammit, he bought Crossroads... willingly... at full price! And I for one, sure as hell, won't forget the fact that he has a Walk to Remember lining and manning the frontlines of his DVD cabinet, behind enemy lines, but that's besides the point...

ATI: Well, this is a sucky situation... It's been three months, and I still haven't gotten my goddam Radeon card from my cousin yet?... but I'll talk more about that on my Tweakui site, I guess... In the meantime, might as well tell you that I saw over at Rage3d a massive list of Radeon 9800 previews. Start off with Rage3d's own at: http://www.rage3d.com/previews/r350/ . Nordic Hardware actually had the first preview at: http://www.nordichardware.com/reviews/graphiccard/2003/Radeon9800Pro/ . I haven't been to Gamers Depot in a long time, but go ahead and take my place at: http://www.gamersdepot.com/hardware/video_cards/ati/9800pro/001.htm . HardOCP holds their own at: http://www.hardocp.com/article.html?art=NDM5 . Now rounding off the rest, ExtremeTech at: http://www.extremetech.com/article2/0,3973,917575,00.asp , Bjorn3d at: http://www.bjorn3d.com/_preview.php?articleID=237 , the Tech Report at: http://tech-report.com/reviews/2003q1/radeon-9800pro/index.x?pg=1 , Beyond3d at: http://www.beyond3d.com/reviews/ati/r350/ , and Anandtech at: http://www.anandtech.com/video/showdoc.html?i=1794 .

ATI: IGN may not be the greatest site in the world, but they are popular, and it's always nice to get a popular opinion on certain stuff. They've released a preview of a lot of up and coming ATI cards, including the 9800. Go and see if you respect IGN at: http://pc.ign.com/articles/388/388066p4.html .

nVidia: Some new Quatro drivers or whatever were released for Win2k and XP. Don't know what version 43.00 does, but these drivers are certified and certifiably Detonator, so go detonate your ass at: ftp://download.nvidia.com/Windows/Quadro_Certified/43.00/4300for2KXP.zip .

Other: What company makes Sabre? I already forget. S3? Trident? SiS? Who knows... all I know, is that I saw over at Savagenews that some new Sabre drivers have arrived, for Windows9x and XP. Go ahead and draw your version 3.10.58 sabres at: http://driver2.sis.com/graphic/gpu/xabre/xabre31058.exe .