| You are not the car you drive... |
[Dec. 16th, 2005|12:44 am] |
I realized tonight that I forgot to put a link to my new Blogger journal from this one, so here ya go. Cross-posting here again...
There's a Doonesbury comic out there somewhere. In it, Mike is talking to his teenaged daughter Alex about being wealthy, since they recently made a lot of money running a dot-com, and bought an SUV. Alex accuses him of being a sell-out, to which Mike replies "I didn't sell out, I bought in!".
If I could find a copy of this particular strip, I'd get it framed and put it on my wall. It's become my motto in life. When I first saw the strip in college, I identified more with Alex. Now, a number of years and a couple of kids later... well, I'll just say that I can see where Mike is coming from.
I only bring this up now because I'm now the proud owner of a Honda Odyssey. Yep, you got it. It's minivan time. And to tell the truth, even though the last vestiges of my youthful idealism are slinking away in shame, I'm not really all that sad about it.
There are certain realities that become extant when you have two kids. A lot of them revolve around getting everyone in and out of cars and hauling around lots of stuff. Strollers, wagons, bags, toys, car seats, kids, groceries, you get the idea. And all of Cynthia's business stuff on top of that... So, for some reason, some company decided to make a vehicle that makes all this crap easier. Lots of room, seats that fold into the floor, doors that open and shut for you, a DVD player, wireless *freakin* headphones... crap, I'm a yuppie. Wait a sec, lemme go look in the mirror... yeah, damnit. There's really no way around it. I worry about airbags for chrissake.
So Honda made this thing, and, well, I'm nothing if not practical. It's a nice piece of engineering, even if a sportscar it ain't. They didn't quite think of everything, but pretty damn close. To plagiarize from Real Life, it's like Honda is personally apologizing for emasculating me.
What the hell, with two kids you can justify anything.
But just in case, I still have my bus. |
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| Long time no see... |
[Dec. 6th, 2005|09:44 pm] |
(Crossposting here for continuity)
I guess it seems fitting to switch to a new site when I write my first post in like 9 months. At any rate, I'm going to give Blogspot a shot, see how I like it. If not, I'll be back to LJ. But Blogspot looks cool, is much more customizeable than LJ, at least unless you want to fork out some cash. And hey, all my friends are doing it. Yes, I would jump off the bridge. I'm a sheep. Baaa.
Let's see, a quick summary of my life for the last nine months: About eight months ago I sold my house, bought a new house, moved to Portland, started a new job, and had a baby. That whole process took about two months, and we've pretty much been recovering ever since.
Now, the rest of that has definitely caused much chaos in my life, but those last three words are the most important: had a baby. Technically I didn't actually give birth, but you get the idea. At any rate, Cedar Elijah Lucas was born at home (our new home) on May 28, 2005. He's six months old now (man the time flies), and is truly the happiest damn baby I've ever met. He's rolling himself around on the floor, which means he'll be crawling in no time, and is currently chattering away to himself. His sister (who is 3 1/2 now), loves him dearly, although that might well change when he gets old enough to mess with her stuff. :)
I look at the pictures, and can't really believe it's my life. I mean, it's so domestic. But I tell you what, I wouldn't trade it for the world. I feel extremely lucky, and thankful every day. Sometimes life gets really hectic and I forget, but really it's your family and friends that are important, having people around that love you and care about you. The rest is just details.
Portland's pretty cool (actually we live in Beaverton, which is basically the Bellevue of Portland), although we don't really know anyone here. We've met a few people through my work, and through Sage's preschool, but haven't really clicked with anyone. I hope that'll change a bit when Cedar's done breastfeeding and we can get a babysitter and go out to places that aren't necessarily child friendly. In the meantime, we'll just have to make a lot of trips up to Seattle.
Guess that's all for now, short and sweet. Next time I'll rant about something witty and insightful, I promise. |
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| Metablogging... |
[Mar. 16th, 2005|11:26 am] |
I just wanted to share a site that I consider to be an informational goldmine: Daily Kos.
I never really got the whole "blogging" thing... perhaps partly because the word "blog" is tough to take seriously, it sounds like a word my three-year-old daughter would use to describe something icky. It's obvious that I have a livejournal, and I occasionally even post to it, but these guys take their blogging very seriously. A lot of the more popular "diaries" are full of comprehensive analysis of world economics and politics that are fascinating to read, and that I don't know nearly enough about. These are frighteningly complex issues, but a lot of these guys are adept at writing articles that are intelligent, yet relatively easy for people (like myself) who don't know much about these sorts of things to understand. It's an entire hive of people analyzing the daily news and world issues.
My favorite author so far is Stirling Newberry. I'd suggest starting out with a couple of his entries, which focus mainly on current Social Security issues: The Rise of Rove's Republic, where he discusses the process of constitutional crisis, and why the Bush administration is forcing one. The scary bit to me is his assertion that the current Social Security debate is really about borrowing (literally) the financial capital of the next generation to use as political power today. Today's post, The Lame Duck Fed Chief Sounding Very Lame, is interesting as he puts U.S. Social Security issues in the larger context of the world economy.
And this is just a sample. I keep coming back to this site all the time, reading new entries. The information doesn't stop, and after a while I've found myself starting to pick up and understand some of the larger issues. My eminently wise friend Mattbear is fond of saying something to the effect of "all wars are about money". This is demonstrably true, but is just a part of the larger assertion that all politics are about money as well.
Unless we start to understand these issues, and learn the ability to see behind the political rhetoric to determine the real causes and see the larger trends, we're sitting ducks. We're going to be responsible for cleaning up the giant mess when the current administration finally leaves office. We're going to be the ones stuck paying off the trillion-dollar credit card bills they're racking up. Our kids are going to be fighting the next war, or the one after that. We all pay something like a third of our income into taxes, and another huge chunk paying off interest on loans, with absolutely no idea where the money's going or what it's being used for.
It's time we figure this stuff out. |
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| Dead Rebels' Society |
[Feb. 24th, 2005|12:29 am] |
This was originally a reply to Mattbear's "We can't stop here, it's mortal country!" post, but it became a rant in it's own right, so I'm re-posting it here so y'all can read it.
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Our generation is an odd one. We were the first generation that grew up constantly being told we were different. We grew up watching TV, listening to the radio, continually hearing ourselves defined as separate and inadequate. We grew up seeing stereotypes and caricatures of ourselves in the media. We were portrayed as sullen kids that played loud rock music, got tattoos and didn't listen to their parents. We were portrayed as stoner kids that didn't do well in school. We were portrayed as a generation whose parents couldn't figure us out, because we didn't care about the same things they did. We were portrayed as the generation that said "Why bother?", and went back to playing Nintendo. "Generation X" has almost always been a derogatory term.
I think that the "rebellion" of our generation was simply living up to that already-formed expectation. I put "rebellion" in quotes because, for the most part, we never really stopped to think what we were rebelling against, it was almost a natural instinct. It's not like we were organized or anything... there wasn't a movement. We were told how the adults in our lives saw us, though the popular media, and we responded accordingly. We even became narcissistic about it, rebelling for rebellions sake, trying to take it farther and farther, playing “I’m more rebel than you”. The edge was taken off when we realized you can only rebel so far before you end up blowing your head off with a shotgun, and the whole thing became pretty hollow after that.
Although it sounds odd to hear myself say it, what we can and need to learn from Hunter S. Thompson and many of his peers is how to rebel constructively. The purpose of a rebel in society is to live outside the prevailing norms, to provide an outside perspective, and to point out the absurdities in life to anyone who will listen. Rebels are there to remind people that there is an alternative, and it's better than this crazy bullshit that's going on over here. This is a valuable function, and one that, particularly in today’s society, *needs* to be done. We need counterpoint. We need counter-culture.
Many of the rebels of the past generation have moved along, and there aren’t enough people in our generation who know who they were. For years, we’ve been pointing out the absurdities in our society to each other, wondering if we were crazy, and threatening to move to Canada if it didn’t get better. Well, we’re not crazy, our society really is this absurd. It’s becoming apparent that things are going to get much worse before they get better. And, as great as it sounds, we’re probably not moving to Canada. Besides, we’d be throwing away a perfectly good country.
This means that we need to get busy. We need to have faith in our convictions, and start bringing them home. Talking, writing books, posting flyers, sending letters, generating TV commercials, running for public office. Getting organized for a change, using this supposed “free press” to get the word out, whatever it takes. It goes against our loner instincts, but it has to be done. It's going to take courage, and it ain't gonna be easy.
I’m proposing the formation of the “Dead Rebels’ Society”, or something equally tongue-in-cheek, to commemorate the rebels of the past, learn from them all we can, and use their collective wisdom to shape our society for the better.
I have an assignment to start with. Pick up Hunter’s last book Hey Rube: Blood Sport, the Bush Doctrine, and the Downward Spiral of Dumbness - Modern History from the Sports Desk, and read it cover-to-cover. I’ll be buying mine today. Take notes, put it under your pillow, whatever. I’d like to have a drink-and-discussion night sometime soon, so post or e-mail deadrebels@gmail.com if you’re interested, and harass everyone you know about it as well. We’re capable of great things...
...and if we follow Mr. Thompson's example, we can have a hell of a good time while we're at it. |
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| (no subject) |
[Feb. 20th, 2005|10:59 pm] |
Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Five years later? Six? It seems like a lifetime, or at least a Main Era -- the kind of peak that never comes again. San Fransisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run... There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda... You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning...
And that, I think, was the handle -- that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting -- on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark -- that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.
-Hunter S. Thompson
R.I.P man, you'll be missed. |
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| Merry Christmas! |
[Dec. 25th, 2004|01:37 am] |
Just wanted to let you all know that I'm thinking about you, and feeling grateful for everything that I have, and everyone that I know.
I hope that everyone is getting to spend time with family or friends. If you're not, let me know and we'll fix that in the next couple of days.
Merry Christmas, everyone...
Goodnight. |
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| Death of a CR-V |
[Dec. 8th, 2004|06:06 pm] |
Shopping for cars sucks. Unless you're in a position where you don't really care if you get jacked a few grand, it's a nerve-wracking experience. After looking at them for a while, you come to the conclusion that all cars are crap, and everyone is out to get you. I think this is a good attitude to have, probably because most cars are crap, and almost everyone is out to get you. I hope to persevere and find the guy selling the perfect car that is asking too little because he doesn't know how much it's worth, but I'm not holding my breath.
At any rate, I didn't start this post to complain about buying a car, but to tell why I'm buying a car. Basically, I killed the last one. Totalled. Toast. 2000 CR-V, silver, fresh maintenance, new tires... upside down in a ditch. I'm sad about the car, but I'm not complaining much, because I seem to have escaped unscathed, barring a few sore muscles. I also feel exceptionally lucky that I was the only one in it at the time...
( So here's what happened... ) |
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| Bizzaro Monday... |
[Nov. 22nd, 2004|04:24 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | cheerful | ] |
| [ | music |
| | white noise | ] |
I read a lot of science fiction, but I still often find that the strangest things happen in real life, particularly in the areas of biology. Nature definitely has created some bizarre creatures (read up on the Sea Squirt, or the crab parasite Succulina, I dare you), but the things that humans are doing with their own cells these days just boggle my mind.
I ran across this Washington Post article yesterday, which I suggest you read. The jist of it is that there is a great deal of research going on these days involving injecting human stem cells into developing animal embryos. For anyone who may have been intentionally hiding under a large rock during the presidential campaigns, a human stem cell is an embryonic cell that is un-differentiated, and thus has the capability of becoming any one of the 200+ types of cells in the human body. Partially differentiated stem cells are used as well. If you read the article, they talk about introducing human stem cells that have differentiated into blood-producing tissue into pig embryos. The cells take root before the immune system develops, and so the immune system treats them as normal cells and doesn't kill them off. What you end up with is a pig with both standard pig blood cells, and *also* human blood cells circulating in its body, apparently with no ill effect to the animal.
This is also being done with organ tissue. If you introduce human liver-differentiated cells into a sheep embryo, then the sheep will grow a liver containing human liver cells. Theoretically, you could transplant this liver into a compatible human. The human's immune system would kill off the sheep cells, leaving the human cells to take root and grow into a replacement liver. That's the idea anyhow.
But this quote just boggled my mind: The risk, they say, is that some human cells will find their way to the developing testes or ovaries, where they might grow into human sperm and eggs. If two such chimeras -- say, mice -- were to mate, a human embryo might form, trapped in a mouse.
I couldn't make this stuff up if you paid me.
It just seems weird that human stem cells will follow the template already existing in the animal embryo, providing filling, but acting within the architectural plan already laid out to create a whole, viable creature. The weirder thing though, is they found that certain pig and human cells will actually fuse, creating hybrid cells that contain genes from both sets of DNA.
As noted above, the term for a creature made up of cells from more than one species is Chimera, pronouced ki-mee-ra. While I was digging around on Google for more information on this, I came across some other weird stuff.
We all know that fraternal twins are formed when two eggs are fertilized separately, and implant, forming two embryos. Sometimes, albeit rarely, early on in the process one embryo will absorb the other. This can result in a single person with two complete sets of DNA, also known as a chimera. Usually certain organs are made up of cells from one set, and others from the other set, although they can mix and fuse as well. You can end up with a person with two blood types, or two differently-colored eyes. If the twins were of opposite sexes, you may see hermaphrodism. Most of the time though, chimaeric humans go through life not knowing they're genetically different than anyone else...
Apparently the most famous case is of a woman that was being tested for donors for a kidney transplant. They took DNA samples from her and from her three kids. She was rather surprised to be told that two of her children weren't hers, at least genetically. After some more testing, they figured out the problem, that she really just had two sets of DNA. There is an interesting NPR interview with her here.
Life never ceases to amaze me... |
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| Start your day off right... |
[Oct. 14th, 2004|01:59 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | amused | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Banjo instrumental... | ] |
So we have this cat. His name's Raja, he's a fairly large, black, male cat. He's very quiet, and mostly just stares at you with those big green eyes. That, and his size, mostly gives off a "don't mess with me" vibe, except when he deigns to actually meow. Then his voice is this high-pitched, squeaky thing that gives the lie to the whole charade. He's really just a cuddly pushover. Raja, however, has a health issue I haven't heard of anyone else having with their cat.
He's bulimic.
We've tried various different foods. We've taken him to the vet and had him checked out, and started feeding him that expensive, non-allergenic cat food based on rabbit and deer. We've tried soft food, we've made sure he eats the same thing for months on end "so his stomach can get used to it". No avail. As far as we can tell, and maybe it's some territorial hard-wired behaviour, he simply eats all he can until his little stomach can't possibly hold anymore. Then he walks around as a little black furry time bomb waiting to explode.
You'll be sitting around the house relaxing, watching TV or talking to someone, and suddenly you hear "Herrk! Hrumm..Hrumm..Hrumm..Hrummp... Haaackk!!!" and there's a huge pile of barely digested cat food on the floor. Of course, being a cat, Raja often likes to hang out in high places around the house. So he might be up on the wall at the top of the stairs, and "Haaackk!!!", now you have cat puke sliding down between the wall and the bookcase. Or "Haaackk!!! and there's cat food chunks on the back of the TV, or on top of your computer monitor. He usually looks sheepish, and tries to scrape the carpet over it or something, but it really doesn't help.
A new thing though, twice in the last month in fact, I've had the wonderful experience of waking up in the middle of the night with cat puke on my feet. It goes something like... (roll over), rustle, rustle, *poink* What the hell? Ewww... arrgggh...
I don't know if he intentionally gets under the sheets, or if he just hurks on the bed and I move the blanket over it, or what, but there's nothing quite like waking up at 4 a.m. with your feet in cold cat vomit. Yech.
Last night, Cynthia and I were awake already, changing Sage's nighttime diaper, and had just gotten back in bed. I'm just starting to doze off and, somewhere on the bed I hear "Herrk! Hrumm.. Hrumm.." I quickly start trying to kick him off the bed, but I can't find him anywhere. Cyn asks "Did you get him off", and I say "I don't think so", so she starts kicking around. Then comes the "Haaackkk!!!". I sigh and get up and go turn on the light. Apparently we both missed.. there's a two-foot projectile of cat spew going down the corner of the mattress and across the floor. Grrr..... Clean it up, go back to bed... at least it wasn't on my feet.
So, as you go about your day, whatever else may or may not be going right in your life, you can comfort yourself with this thought:
"At least I didn't wake up in cat puke this morning."
Have a great day... |
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| Debates |
[Oct. 11th, 2004|11:04 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | pensive | ] |
| [ | music |
| | The pitter-patter of keyboard keys. | ] |
For anyone who hasn't seen either of the other two, I would *highly* recommend watching the debate this Wednesday. Don't listen to any of the pre-news crap, don't listen to any of the post-debate analysis. Just turn on the TV at 6:00p.m. Wednesday, watch for 90 minutes, and turn it back off. I'll tell you why...
Aside from the debates that were held in 2000, this is the *only* time you will see the president of our country have to think for, and stand up for himself. It's truly bizarre to watch. He does great when he can get on a roll and spout his pre-packaged black-and-white moral messages, but when he actually has to answer a thoughtful challenge it's.. well, it's depressing. And it's totally depressing to see him lose his cool and argue with the debate ref.
Normally, every, and I mean *every* time you see Bush giving a speech on TV, it's before a specially selected audience that is hand-picked to cheer and clap and approve. I'm not kidding, this really freaks me out. I thought only communist countries pulled off this kind of propaganda. To be fair, I have no idea if Clinton did the same sort of thing, but I don't think so. Bush never has to answer challenges, he rarely gives press conferences. He is never faced with tough questions. He is surrounded by "yes men". Our country is currently OWNED by Republicans in House, Senate, and apparently the Supreme Court, so he has no true challengers. Kerry is the first serious challenge he's had to answer in four years. It is becoming increasingly apparent to me that the "Leader of the Free World" lives in a little bubble. Well, actually a rather big bubble, like Truman Show sized.
I have a little issue with embarrasing movies, like American Pie-style, when they put the characters in situations in which you *know* what's coming, and the character just freezes in deer-in-the-headlights mode, or in which someone is making a total fool out of themselves but just won't stop talking. I can't watch those scenes. My eyes wander, I look off to the left or right, or hold my hand up near my eyes like I'm not watching. No problems with sex, gore or violence, but I can't handle embarrassment.
Whenever Bush has to answer a question during the debates, I have the same reaction. I'll watch Kerry, listen, try to understand the nuances of the points he makes. And I usually do, whether or not I actually agree with them. But when Bush starts talking, I look away. It's a gut reaction.
But don't take my word for it. Tune in yourself, watch the debate, and tell me what you think.
And if you want to watch the second debate, go here. |
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| Recycled Web: One of the coolest poems I've ever read. |
[Sep. 10th, 2004|07:35 am] |
In case you hadn't noticed,
it has somehow become uncool
to sound like you know what you're talking about?
Or believe strongly in what you're saying?
Invisible question marks and parenthetical (you know?)'s
have been attaching themselves to the ends of our sentences?
Even when those sentences aren't, like, questions? You know?
Declarative sentences - so-called
because they used to, like, DECLARE things to be true
as opposed to other things which were, like, not -
have been infected by a totally hip
and tragically cool interrogative tone? You know?
Like, don't think I'm uncool just because I've noticed this;
this is just like the word on the street, you know?
It's like what I've heard?
I have nothing personally invested in my own opinions, okay?
I'm just inviting you to join me in my uncertainty?
What has happened to our conviction?
Where are the limbs out on which we once walked?
Have they been, like, chopped down
with the rest of the rain forest?
Or do we have, like, nothing to say?
Has society become so, like, totally . . .
I mean absolutely . . . You know?
That we've just gotten to the point where it's just, like . . .
whatever!
And so actually our disarticulation . . . ness
is just a clever sort of . . . thing
to disguise the fact that we've become
the most aggressively inarticulate generation
to come along since . . .
you know, a long, long time ago!
I entreat you, I implore you, I exhort you,
I challenge you: To speak with conviction.
To say what you believe in a manner that bespeaks
the determination with which you believe it.
Because contrary to the wisdom of the bumper sticker,
it is not enough these days to simply QUESTION AUTHORITY.
You have to speak with it, too.
- Taylor Mali |
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| Decompression at 1 a.m... |
[Sep. 9th, 2004|07:35 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | restless | ] |
| [ | music |
| | The humming of power supply fans... | ] |
I'm awake at 1:15 a.m. I know I'm going to pay for this tomorrow, but I have that feeling that I need to write, and I won't be able to sleep until I do.
Alright.. all you guys out there, repeat after me: "I will *not* let my wife (or girlfriend, or whatever) mess with my hair". Of course, this assumes that you have an SO, *and* that you have hair. When we were getting ready to leave for Burning Man, I let Cynthia bleach my hair and dye it blue and purple. It looked pretty cool, actually, but during the week the dye mostly washed out, and I knew I'd want to dye it back to a normal color after we returned. When we did get back, we were both kindof sick, and didn't make it to the store, so we dyed my hair back with some stuff Cyn had around the house, which was named "Cinnamon". You got it.. my hair is now a rather magenta sort of color, which looks more purple around where the blue spots were. In addition, I've been growing my beard out over the trip. I guess I have a sort of burner/wildman look going now. One of my co-workers asked me (in a ribbing sort of way) if I'd been standing too close to the fire... Don't tell anyone, but I'm actually starting to like this look. It might grow on me...
When I started this blog, it was called something like "Countdown to Burning Man". I changed it eventually, because I didn't think we were going to be able to make it, and I was getting rather bitter. In the last month before the event, things just seemed to work out though, and we did make it. My parents pulled through with an offer to watch Sage for a whole week (!!!), we got our VW bus worked on in time to drive it down, and the gorgeous orange beast got us down to the middle of the Nevada desert and back with no worse problem than a flaky blinker. I love that bus, I'm never getting rid of it.
As for the event itself... I really could write for hours. We camped with a group of people we mostly didn't know, and they turned out to be a wonderful crew that I hope we can develop stronger friendships with over time. Our good friends were camped near enough to us that we could walk or bike to visit each other, and we had many crazy adventures wandering around the playa in the evenings. I feel like I missed out on a lot of the event itself this year.. I didn't really even make it over to the other side of the city. That's made up for, however, by the fact that I got to meet a lot of great people, and was able to spend wonderful bonding time with Cynthia (which we desperately needed), and other great friends that I haven't been able to spend much time with lately. All of our lives have just become too busy lately, and it's wonderful to have some time in the desert, away from the daily grind, when we can just spend time together and act like kids. :)
I continually find it intriguing how being at Burning Man affects people. This was my sixth year, and I've seen a lot of drama during those cumulative six weeks. Being in the desert, in that harsh environment, seems to strip away alot of the crap we tell ourselves, a lot of the inhibitions we normally hold onto, and tends to bring us back to the core of our beings.... for better or worse. People build all these walls, and put up facades, for many varying reasons. Some of them may even be good reasons. But when you've put yourself in a situation where they don't apply, or when you just can't support them anymore and they come crashing down around you... well, you can find out what you're really made of, what the people you consider your friends are made of, and what the relationships you're in are made of. I've seen people that just can't handle it, and I've seen relationships that aren't able to take the strain.
The flipside is, the fires that burn can also forge, sometimes simultaneously. Friendships or relationships forged in or reaffirmed by our time in the desert take on a special meaning, and seem to have a permanence like no other. Each time we go the extraneous crap is burned away, and what remains is re-molded like tempered steel. I feel extremely fortunate to have a number of these relationships, a number of friendships that have been founded over time with no help from the desert, and a marriage (although that term doesn't really do it justice) that only gets stronger each time...
I am honored that I know each one of you, and am able to consider you my friends, and my family. I wish all of you the best in whatever you're doing, and fervently wish that it will keep you happy and healthy. And in another year, who knows? Maybe we'll all be out in the middle of some desert, burnin' it all away...
Alright, maybe I can sleep now. |
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| Why don't you just go cry about it... |
[Jun. 23rd, 2004|11:57 pm] |
Just saw this bumper sticker for sale... thought some of you might be interested. >:-)
(Click on the image to go to ninjagear.com)
Shameless plug: A friend of mine actually runs the site, they have all sorts of cool, attitude-filled gear for sale. |
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| Mouse Training... |
[Jun. 19th, 2004|01:53 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | ecstatic | ] |
| [ | music |
| | "Red Triangle"..."Blue Circle"..."Green Square" | ] |
Well, that does it. My daughter (who is 2 1/4 years old, mind you) just learned how to use a mouse. She's sitting at the computer, playing this Sesame Street game where you have to click on eggs as Elmo counts them. Clicking those eggs, all on her own. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7... My life is complete. Now I just have to teach her to play Warcraft... |
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| God's Unwanted Cheerleader |
[Feb. 10th, 2004|11:14 pm] |
Actually, this happened to me about a year and half ago, summer of '02, as I was getting off work and heading for the bus. I wrote everything down immediately after it happened, so I'm pretty sure I got it word for word. I ran across it in a notebook the other day, and thought I'd transcribe it in for your enjoyment. You never know what you'll run across downtown...
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"...like the man in there! A weasel! A weasel!"
As the bus passed by, I could begin to hear what he was shouting. He had been standing on the corner of 4th and Columbia, and was pointing at the windows of McCormick & Schmick's, presumably at a gentleman inside with a moral resemblance to a large rodent.
He began strutting off down 4th Ave. towards the bus stop I wanted to be at. Myself and a couple other wary pedestrians were close behind, pacing ourselves to keep an even distance, attempting to keep an eye on him without actually making eye contact.
A waitress, standing out front smoking and having been subjected to his monologue, gave a wry grin and shrugged, as people do when something doesn't make sense, and they know you saw it too. "I guess he thinks he's a weasel." I grinned back, shrugged, and walked by.
He's a short guy, but wiry and strong. He looks about 40, mostly bald with an almost non-existent ring of grey hair around the back of his head, but he has that spry, energetic walk I attribute to joggers or gym teachers. He's wearing a green shirt with the sleeves cut off, over a black turtleneck, black jeans, and running shoes. I startle as he whips around suddenly and begins punching the coin return buttons on all the newspaper boxes.
"Fucking godless sons of bitches! Nobody stands between me and my wife! Nobody stands between me and my wife!" He belts out suddenly, pointing straight across the street, but shouting in my direction. I'm studiously checking the time, simply waiting for my bus. "I'll kick out all the dogs! I'll kick out all those dogs!"
A moment passes as he stalks over to the corner. "What's the strongest muscle in the human body, you men and women? What's the strongest muscle in the human body? I'll bet you don't have one! I'll bet you don't have one! It's the heart! You godless fuckers have hearts of stone, but I have a heart of flesh!"
The walk signal changes, and he begins to cross. Suddenly his arms shoot up, forming a "V", pointing as if his index fingers could pierce the sky. "Who's number one?! Who's number one?! Jesus! Jesus!!!" He stops briefly on the opposite corner and glares around accusingly.
The 311 to Woodinville pulls up and I hop in the back seat. As the bus pulls away I look back to see him heading off southbound, fingers in the sky, cheerleading the word of God.
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| Holidays are over... |
[Jan. 13th, 2004|12:30 pm] |
...a new year has begun. Doesn't actually feel like it though. I keep writing 2003 on my checks. Perhaps it's because I'm in the middle of a school year. I'm used to my real "New Year" being in September.
Speaking of school, I've had my first week of classes, although one day was cancelled due to snow. This quarter is going to be mostly system and network security, then next quarter will be applied forensics. I'm looking forward to that, I feel like I need more hands-on drive imaging and analysis experience before I can start selling myself in the computer forensics field.
We had a great holiday, although very busy. Our family is so spread out that we end up driving everywhere: Orting, Winthrop, Portland. A lot of car time, although it's worth it getting to see everyone, and having Sage spend good time with her grandparents. It's great how much they all adore her; I love watching her get older and form relationships with them and other people. This is what family is really all about, and I feel extraordinarily lucky to have the caring, supportive family that I do.
Although it would be nice if they were a little closer; next year we just might make everyone come to us. :) |
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| Shifting Sands... |
[Dec. 19th, 2003|04:11 pm] |
I heard an excellent report on NPR last night called "Shifting Sands: Saudi Arabia". It provides a really interesting look at the country of Saudi Arabia; politics, religion, culture, and problems the country is having becoming a "modern society".
I highly recommend you listen to it or read the transcipt, available at insideout.org.
The thing I found most interesting is the discussion of Al-Qaeda, and why so many Saudis are drawn to them and other terrorist organizations...
( Read more... ) |
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| Two rants in two days... |
[Dec. 18th, 2003|12:37 pm] |
First, LOTR is probably the best movie I've *ever* seen. After seeing so many movies that completely butchered and maimed my childhood nostaligia, they make this. I couldn't have asked for a better movie. If only they were all made like this...
Well, with my freshly-minted "license to rant" in hand, (thanks Matt :)), here's the latest:
I was riding the bus this morning, and happened to be sitting in front of two women, who are apparently attorneys. One was relating the story of a client of hers, an 18 year-old guy (now 22) who is in a Washington state prison.
I didn't get the details of why he was in there, other than it was a non-violent crime, and he'd been giving a girl a ride home who apparently turned around later and accused him of something... apparently she was a couple years younger than him, so I'm assuming statutory rape or some such. The attorney maintained he was innocent. The client also apparently was on the shorter side, and not very physically intimidating.
( Read more... ) |
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| Can I SPAM? Yes I can! I like to send SPAM, Sam I am. |
[Dec. 17th, 2003|01:41 pm] |
Well, it's official. Bush signed the "CAN SPAM Act of 2003" *cough* into law today. I've modified my stance a little bit since my last post on the subject:
Worse than useless.
The name of this bill becomes surprisingly appropriate, since it actually increases the legality of spam in this country. There are two reasons for this assertion:
-38 States have passed anti-spam laws of their own, and the other 12 would probably have followed suit shortly. California and Delaware have the most restrictive opt-in rules. The CAN-SPAM act (with an opt-out requirement) will pre-empt these state laws.
-The CAN-SPAM act's opt-out requirement requires that spammers (in the US) stop sending you spam if you "decline to receive further commercial electronic mail messages from the sender". If you look at this the other way though, it legally allows each spammer to send you as much spam as they can manage before you notify them. Since a computer can send about a zillion e-mails a minute, I could still fill up your inbox before you can click "opt-out" and "send".
Oh, and the federal government is going to create a "do-not-spam" list, which they're going to distribute to spammers? And the spammers aren't going to give this list (of presumably valid e-mail addresses) to their affiliates in say, China?
You see, spammers already do this trick. Most of the time when they send a message, they don't know if the e-mail address is valid or not. But in the message they'll embed a small graphic (usually white, 1x1 pixel) that you can't see. But when you open the e-mail (usually in Outlook, which automatically downloads the graphic), they see the unique code transmitted with the URL so they know which message it came from, and they say "Woohoo! We got a live one", and proceed to send you *more* spam, and sell their list of "valid sucker" addresses to other spammers for more money. So now they have the U.S. goverment doing their work of collecting "valid sucker" addresses for them. It's beautiful. (sigh)
And don't let me forget... the Internet is an international network, and the U.S. doesn't have jurisdiction over the whole thing. Granted, England has their own anti-spam laws, but this still leaves about 500 million other computers to send SPAM from.
Of course, this has the added benefit of entirely new reasons to invade small countries. Could give new meaning to the term "SPAM Wars". I'd recommend that the countries of Trinidad, Madagascar, Albania, and Jordan not let their citizens operate spam relays, or they could be next. After all, you're either with us or you're against us.
Hmm.. my blog seems to have turned into a giant rant session lately.
In other news, I'm almost finished with my first quarter of class, only two days left. And we're getting new windows installed in our house. And Sage is the cutest thing ever (although she's driving her mother crazy). :)
More soon... |
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