I returned the EVGA because it just wasn't worth the fuss, but then Nvidia started releasing their own OS X drivers, so I thought I'd give it another shot. I got another 670, an Asus DirectCU II, and tried it again.

A list of French Avant-Garde filmmakers whose works you are now familiar with: Serge Manadar Born in Tangier, Morocco, Manadar rose to preeminence in the genre following the 1976 release of his third film "La souffrance est la sufferance", the plot of which concerned the nameless, faceless narrator's attempt to come to grips with the failure of his uncle's career in NASCAR. Manadar continued to crap out highly-regarded work throughout the '70s and '80s, culminating in his Golden Buttflap award at the 1987 Zurich Film-Liebhaberpartei for "J'avais l'habitude d'être un personne", which charted the growth of several shrubs native to the Uzbek steppes, and juxtaposed that with sexual assault. Manadar continues to make short films under a rotating series of assumed names, but due to his expulsion from the Film Ligue de Napoléon (who were jealous of his France-wide success), he is unable to release his films in a format viewable by bipeds. Unknown to most, Jacques-Yves Cousteau was merely one of Manadar's disguises. Christodou "U" Breziere Breziere's work first began appearing in cinemathequeopolitronesses in 1973, when he attained instant fame for "Je ne suis pas celui qui respire", an animated snuff film in which a protagonist named for Breziere attempts to acknowledge his fascination with pinching womens' noses. The work was shown to over 40,000 people each day, and a still from the film remains on the city flag of Moche-Metz, in the Rhône valley. The bulk of Breziere's subsequent work is composed of a series of grouchy reminiscences on the transient popularity of the Avant-Garde filmmaker, the most notable of which is 1979's "Salauds! Pourquoi ne pas regarder mes films?" Breziere has since retired, and lives with his robotic fiancée Robertiñho in a houseboat on the Charente. Michel Wallenhuis The Belgian émigré's first film, 1977's "Regardez mon cul, pleurnichards", was notable for being the first film to depict an overweight, irate man's existential suffering. The manner in which it did so, by having the protagonist scream bizarrely-specific insults at the camera for six hours, resulted in immense critical praise for Wallenhuis, but the film met with limited commercial success. "I made ten francs from the entire fucking thing", he claimed in a 1994 interview with "Belgian Losers", a program on Nederlandse Publieke Omroep's Radio 5. Wallenhuis quit the film business after failing to secure funding for any further projects, and spent the '80s and '90s as a bookkeeper specializing in bets on the success or failure of the Russian Mir space station. His current whereabouts are unknown. Un clone de Serge Manadar Popularly known as "Un Clone," Un clone de Serge Manadar was the result of a French government project to encourage the adoption of French culture in Algeria in the years following that country's independence. Un Clone was a direct clone of Serge Manadar, and, with the backing of the Ministère de la Culture, produced a staggering amount of films in the late '70s, including "J'ai peur de Pierre", "L'ennui morne matin", and "Donc, très solitaire, dans cette foul". However, the cloning process was imperfect, and cellular degradation began to take hold. Un Clone's final films ("Me regarder dissoudre" and "Sexe avec le cadavre de Georges Pompidou") have been written off as confusing and literalist. Un Clone dissolved on March 23rd, 1980. Alain Barbé-Marbois The reclusive director of "Je suis triste du coude" had a troubled childhood in Paris' 7400th Arrondissement, before escaping in a barley train to join a traveling accounting firm (a journey detailed in 1973's "La douleur est le seul bonheur"). He was a well-regarded accountant on film and television productions, but longed to direct. After stealing several cameras, lenses, and actors from one of "U" Breziere's productions, Barbé-Marbois made a string of filmotropic maladies that were released straight to shadow puppet reenactors before finding success with 1975's "Merde est le ciel, merde est mon coeur", the unexpected sensation of the year's award shows. Barbé-Marbois, finding that success had made him money, immediately burned all his film stock, and declared that he would, from that point, "only do unpopular things, like murder, or fiscal irregularities". Depressed by the contemplation of success, Barbé-Marbois' last moment of notability was a defection into East Germany, where he achieved recognition in the country's literary underground for his publication of "Meine Traurigkeit ist Komplette", a novel that could only be read while submerged in mineral oil.

I have been lobbying all appropriate Dutch (and even inappropriate Belgian) authorities to put me in charge of all current and future ultra-marathons and ultra-triathlons. I've been writing exhaustive and excruciating letters to the Nederlandse Sport Federatie, because their email address is pretty easy to find, my Dutch is reasonable, and korea@korea-dpr.com doesn't respond to anything that doesn't contain delicious currency of the imperialist West. This will not do, as I merely propose a series of a events for overenergetic rich nutjobs. The Dutch do not respond! The Grosjean Three-Arm 10000: A man is forced to wear a sheep like a backpack. He must feed and educate the sheep while being pursued over a 40-mile obstacle course by Uzbek mercenaries. If the racer is captured by the Uzbeks, they will take his sheep and raise it in their native tradition. Obstacles include mud traps, mud holes, mud ladders, and mud walls. A timer is implanted in the racer's arm, and will continue counting down after the race, to an actuarially-determined point at which the racer will die. The winner is the racer who completes the race the fastest with the most well-rounded sheep. Meanwhile, cameramen battle each other in a vicious blood-sport where the winner gets a job making documentaries. The Saumarez Dynacrumble: Participants race for 400 meters while carrying a 40-foot stone statue of Saumarez. If they cannot lift it, they are shot. The only documented winner of this race is Saumarez. WingRun '09, For The Kids With No Homes: Participants obtain their own helicopter transport to Iqaluit, where they must immediately don duck suits. Their BAC must be at least .15, and they must spend the whole race holding wings with another duck whose political positions they disagree with. It is a double-length triathlon, and air horns are provided for noisemaking. Each pair of ducks is provided with one balloon-tire bicycle, and it must be occupied by one or more ducks at all times, even during the aquatic portion of the race. Circling gunships will eliminate anyone who tries to use flashlights to break the endless Arctic night. First prize is a poorly-built catamaran. Mijn Verdachte Oma: In a rare "triple-double-ulta-secret" marathon, participants must go about their lives, and never reveal that they are participants in a marathon. They must become grandparents, and visit every Wendy's franchise in the world. Participants periodically receive a vision of a cow called Morris, who knows what they will do before they do it. The winner receives immortality and resistance to bees. The Poisoned Granule 10K: Participants are para-dropped into a pan-dimensional rainforest with a short-wave radio, a hundred dollars in gold, a hundred dollars in rubles, and a flute. They must hike out of the rainforest without going mad in the ethereal wasteland in between the dimensional planes, and become proficient in the quasi-musical language of the beings that inhabit it. Extra time bonuses will be awarded to the racer who can punch themselves the most. The short-wave radios must be tuned to numbers stations at all times, and racers must have pinpointed their location via pan-dimensional triangulation by the time they return. Race organizers are free to add up to 400 extra miles to the race, to compensate for destructive Belgian influences. Participants are expected to use their pan-dimensional privileges to rob nearby department stores, and turn "findings" over to the race organizers.