e-Literate

I am ready

2008-12-13T21:26:00.002-07:00

It's been 40 weeks, and now I'm three days away from becoming a father. I can say this with relative certainty because this child of ours shares her father's distaste of being upside-down. With head up and butt down, good ol' fashioned labor is out of the question. We've given her as much time as possible to flip on her own, but since she seems quite content where she is, we're going to have to go in and get her. Tuesday, at 12:30pm, we have scheduled the c-section. Jo is of course quite nervous. Pregnancy and the upcoming birth obviously has--and will have--a much larger effect on her body and mind that it ever could on mine. I can understand and empathize with the fear and concern, but I don't feel any of it myself. I can honestly say I am completely and totally ready for this. Perhaps the best way I can describe it is to wrench the absolute most positive aspect of a terminal cancer patient who has completely given herself over to fate. I have done all I can do up to this point, and now all of the details are out of my hands. I have given my life over to this little girl. There is a kind of beauty and peace to this thought that I have never experienced before and can hardly describe. Unconditional love seems like an understatement. I have never even seen her face and I am already in thrall.

I am a skydiver in free-fall, a soldier in the onset of war.

I have no fear of the end of this life.

I see only heaven beyond.

It's been a little over two years

2008-06-12T22:04:00.000-07:00

And nary a post in sight. Life changes in new and exciting ways. I work more, but on work that is interesting and rewarding. I can spend a day in the office and wonder how the time flew by. That is, of course, excepting the days when time stops altogether. Every now and then you encounter a new problem or challenge that is so difficult that you don't know what to do other than stare at the computer screen like a proverbial deer in headlights. Then, inevitably, after a couple good nights' sleep, you awake to discover that you're retarded and it wasn't really that hard of a problem. Then after a couple hours of working on the solution you realize that, yes, in fact, it IS an incredibly hard problem and that the only constant through this whole ordeal is that you are an idiot. So you remind yourself that if things were easy, life would be boring. But if they were easy, they'd also be done by now so you could go do something more fun like playing Mario Kart. In this way, you can blow through two weeks without really getting a thing done, but somehow have felt like you were working--thus assuaging the guilt while depositing that paycheck on Friday morning. It's so satisfying, I feel like I need a cigarette.

Above and beyond the struggles of the proletariat, paternity looms on the horizon. Delicate strands of peptides have danced their way through the night like fairies of old. Intermingling with passion and beauty, but also with a cold, hard determinism--the chemical source of fate. And also like those fairies, will return in time with an infant made in my image. This must be what God feels (felt?) like. I can watch the clock mark every step closer to the new strange future that lies ahead. Each day like a second. Each week like a minute. Each month like an hour. Each second like a year. Life has become a series of snapshots. The change between each so rapid and encompassing that I stare into the image for the tiniest detail that might connect me again to that time, to rediscover what I was thinking. What I was feeling. Freeze-frame. The spent toothpaste swirls down the drain with the running water washing the basin clean as I struggle to express my joy over the phone to a wife who went to the doctor for antibiotics and came back with much, much more. Pause. Fast forward. Freeze-frame. The visceral thrill of that fetal heartbeat. 150 beats per minute. My heart surges to keep pace. I can't even manage a harmonic. Those tiny beats merge with my own to build a larger, longer, slower rhythm that flows underneath it all. Aural water, the giver of life. It ebbs and flows like the tide. If a medium for psychic thought could ever be found, it must be made of this. And in spite of the waves washing over me, I can't help but find it a little odd that human fetuses have a yolk sack. Pause. Fast-forward. I wait for the next frame.

Mini-black holes to the rescue...

2006-02-08T21:03:00.000-07:00

This is pretty sweet: http://arxiv.org/abs/hep-ph/0503178

Abstract:
We consider black hole production at the CERN Large Hadron Collider (LHC) in a generic scenario with many extra dimensions where the standard model fields are confined to a brane. With ~20 dimensions the hierarchy problem is shown to be naturally solved without the need for large compactification radii. We find that in such a scenario the properties of black holes can be used to determine the number of extra dimensions, n. In particular, we demonstrate that measurements of the decay distributions of such black holes at the LHC can determine if n is significantly larger than 6 or 7 with high confidence and thus can probe one of the critical properties of string theory compactifications.

Score 1 for science! While this doesn't provide a way to prove string theory, it does provide a way to prove if it is wrong altogether. Assuming the LHC can ram those protons together fast enough to produce the mini black holes we need.

Submitted for your approval...

2005-11-23T20:36:00.000-07:00

The Adventures of Sir Spellsitrong and the Nites of the Sound Taybul

Installment #1 -- Funetics, by Doctor Elron Dullard

Sir Spellsitrong finally arrived at a meeting with the other Nites. He was over thirty minutes late, because he got lost in Corridor 3. Oh yes, THAT Corridor 3. The infamous Corridor 3. The corridor few dare to enter and fewer still escape unscathed, but I will not elaborate further. It is all too frightening, and my bowels are empty enough as it is. Suffice it to say, it requires a great deal of courage or stupidity to enter Corridor 3, and Sir Spellsitrong has an unhealthy dose of both.

As Spellsitrong walked into the Sound Taybul room, he saw the other Nites impatiently awaiting his arrival. There was a projection up on the wall that looked suspiciously like a piece of somebody's anatomy, which caused Sir Laffsalot to giggle uncontrollably.

"Where the hell have you been?!" bellowed King Author.

"I'm terribly sorry, King Author, I got lost down Corridor 3 and had to endure all sorts of horrible things!."

At the mention of "Corridor 3" an eerie hush fell over the other Nites. All except for Sir Laffsalot, who sniggered under his breath.

King Author raised one eye-brow in either disbelief or awe. Deciding that Sir Spellsitrong was telling the truth, however, he allowed the other eye-brow to join the first midway between his tired eyes and receding hairline--suggesting a certain level of permissiveness for the wayward Nite--and responded, "Well, see that it doesn't happen again. I have a kingdom to run, and I can't very well have my Secretary Nite gallivanting about with all manner of frightening things while the rest of us wait about for him."

"I'm sorry sir, you are correct. I shall be more careful next time."

"Thank you. Now I have called you all here for a reason. It seems a new threat has risen from the north. A giant by the name of Oxford has come to challenge us based on abuse of the English language. He has demanded that we send forth our bravest Nite to fight him--in a Spelling Bee TO THE DEATH!" The king paused for dramatic effect. He had spent all morning practicing this speech in front of his bathroom mirror, and was quite pleased with his delivery. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "Now, I have already attempted to contact Webster, but it appears the former gubernat-..."

"Bwahahahahahaha! He said goober!" interjected Sir Laffsalot. Everyone else remained silent. The laughter subsided, and King Author continued:

"As I was saying, the former Californian gubernatorial candidate can't get any time off right now, and is unable to assist us."

"Umm, Webster was played by Emmanuel Lewis, not Gary Coleman," interjected Sir Joeyscameo.

"Shut up," retorted King Author. These interruptions were starting to frustrate him. "Anyway, I also checked with David, as he seems to have some experience with giants, but God said he needs him right now, and there is no arguing with that guy. So, it comes down to this: One of us must go to face this giant. The future of our kingdom depends on it. Now, I would go myself, but I am kind of a coward. I mean, I got this job by stealing a sword from some chick in a lake. How much guts does that take? So, I decided I would be better off staying here to protect my faithful Lady Guinivere." This brought another snigger out of Laffsalot. "She sure was 'keeping the faith' last night, if you catch my drift," he said, while elbowing his neighbor knowingly. Sir Dozentgetit, the victim of the vicious elbowing, just shook his head and furrowed his brow in confusion.

Laffsalot's attention was pulled back to the meeting as he heard Spellsitrong call out boisterously, "I will volunteer my services! I will slay this giant! As secretary of the land, it is my honor, duty, and privilege!"

At this, everybody in the room started laughing. Tears were flowing, sides were splitting. Only Sir Laffsalot said, "That's not funny," with a somber look on his face.

King Author answered, "Sir Spellsitrong, I appreciate your enthusiasm, however I would not consider you the ideal candidate for this job. Your spelling is atrocious. In fact, the only reason that we fired that Merlin guy and made you secretary was to try to get you to practice. Well, that and I'm pretty sure that no-good wizard was stealing office supplies. Anyway, we thought that if you had to write things down all the time, then you might improve your skills a little bit. In fact, it's had quite the opposite effect. Your spelling is actually worse and we now have several years' worth of worthless notes and minutes from our meetings. I'd be surprised if any records survive more than a couple generations. People will end up making hackneyed action flicks and cheesy under-funded comedies, because all they'll know about us is the unintelligible drivel you call writing. I am sorry, but I do no think you should go."

"Please, your lordship, let me do this! I have been studying really hard! I took a "Hooked on Phonics" course, and am getting much better!"

"Well, seeing as how we have no other volunteers, I don't have much choice. The safety of the kingdom is in your hands. Do not fail us. You will have to journey to the hallowed spelling grounds. You shall leave in the morning with an array of my fastest horses and an entourage worthy of the greatest pop-stars."

Sir Spellsitrong bowed graciously and left the room. Like the man who choked to death on a banana, he had bitten off far more than he could chew. He walked away down the hall, and slowly resigned himself to his impending doom. The journey to the hallowed spelling grounds would take about three days. By the time he reached his chambers, his fretting had nearly worn a tooth-shaped hole through his lower lip. The sun had just barely set, casting an orange glow across the horizon, but he couldn't bear staying awake with only his thoughts as company, so he settled in for an uneasy night's sleep.

The morning came far too early for his taste. He got ready with the help of his chamberboy, and stumbled through the next three days in the mental haze of a death row inmate walking the green mile. Upon arrival to the hallowed Spelling Grounds on the morning of the third day, he was ready to accept his fate. Seeing the ground where so many others had died before him gave him a sort of clarity no mind altering drug could provide. He realized that no matter the outcome, he was serving a higher purpose. He went to his seat at the front of the grounds, and waited for the giant to arrive.

Shortly before noon, the giant was visible over the horizon. First his head popped up, then shoulders. By the time his waist appeared, his head had eclipsed the sun, casting an unnatural shadow across the assembly. Simultaneously, the entire crowd gasped as his full 75 foot stature was revealed to them. One guy swallowed a bug as he breathed in. This caused him to cough uncontrollably, sending forth an army of microscopic bacteria into battle. As if of one mind, the infinitesimal phalanx forged forward to the giant's vacuous proboscis. Finding the fortress virtually undefended, they set to work, festering in the sinuses of the unfortunate fiend.

Before we continue, I must explain how a spelling bee to the death works. One contestant provides a word for the other to spell. The second contestant then attempts to spell that word. If he fails to spell it correctly, the first contestant imparts one blow to the other contestant--anywhere on his body, with any weapon of his choosing. If, however, he does spell it correctly, then he in turn gets to provide a word for the first contestant to spell. Play continues in this manner until, via the wounds provided, one of the contestants dies. The punishment for those who choose to violate these rules is, of course, death. Given that the battle is between a massive giant and a puny human, I'll leave it to you do deduce how many mistakes each one gets to make before the match is over. This may seem unfair, but most battles are in fact fought this way. Nobody picks a fight unless they think they can win, and, understandably, most giants think they can win.

Sir Spellsitrong walked to the center of the Spelling Grounds next to the giant. Well, more specifically, the giant's baby toe. The Grounds is better described as a garden, really, so there wasn't room for the whole giant. This proved very unfortunate for the poor souls sitting at the far end of the field who found themselves crushed beneath his massive callous-encrusted heel. But, fortunately, romantic literature such as this cares little for the affairs of poor people, which spares me the uncomfortable task of describing the rather gruesome injuries they sustained and the tearful wailing of the loved ones left behind. Let's just say that this particular flood was the stuff legends are made of.

With both contestants in place, the Master of Ceremonies, a swarthy young man with a fair and empty head, waited for the fanfare of trumpets to subside before announcing, "Gentlemen! Start your engines!" An awkward silence followed as he realized that he grabbed the wrong cue cards on his way out the door that morning. A nervous bead of sweat glistened on his proud neatly trimmed moustache. Regaining his composure, he said, "Uhh. Do the spelling thing. Oxford the Giant, you are first. Proceed."

By this time, the germs in the giant's sinus cavities had grown to an alarming number. They stirred their witch's brew of mucus as the giant prepared to give his word for Sir Spellsitrong. The breath inward before opening his mouth to speak so tickled his nostrils that the giant let forth a cacophonous sneeze: "AAAAHHHCHOOOO!!!!!!" The wind and phlegm spewed forth, giving the women in the audience a series of elaborate up-dos, each more startling than the next.

Sir Spellsitrong spoke with the characteristic foolishness and confidence that belied his shattered nerves. "Ahchoo. Ay, Aych, See, Aych, Oh, Oh. Ahchoo."

The emcee announced, "Please wait while our judges deliberate this response." Tense seconds passed. He finally received the decision and said, "Since 'Ahchoo' is not technically a word in the English language, any purely phonetic spelling would be acceptable. The decision is in favor of Spellsitrong. Continue with your word for Mr. Giant, if you please."

"Hooked on Phonics werked for me," Spellsitrong thought somewhat ironically. A moment later, he decided upon his word. "Convenient."

The giant was now visibly ill. His nose was red and swollen. His eyes watered incessantly. His head was swimming and he could no longer think straight. His voice as nasal as a Frenchman's, he began, "Com-been-yen. See, Oh..." And suddenly, with less warning than before, an even larger sneeze resounded from within the deep recesses of his head. The wind was so strong that chickens turned into projectiles. The sound was so loud that four old ladies in Connecticut stopped playing bridge just long enough to ask, "What on Earth was that?" The mucus, green and viscous, was so plentiful that it drowned a kitten. (Don't worry too much about this last part, though. The kitten was very racist. As cute as it was, it likely would have been the first cat to commit large-scale genocide. Thank goodness for small miracles, eh?) The sneeze sufficiently rattled the giant's head that he lost track of where he was in the word, and he continued with a disastrous "Vee, Ee, En, Tee. Com-been-yen."

The emcee replied, "I'm sorry, that is incorrect. Spellsitrong, you may inflict a blow as you wish upon the giant, after which you may provide another word for him to spell."

Spellsitrong nodded in understanding. He removed his sword from its sheath and ran headlong toward the giant's foot, ululating the entire way. His sword pierced the giant's calloused toe, reaching the soft tissue underneath. The giant grunted loudly in discomfort, leaving him predictably disgruntled.

His jagged nerves catching up to his confident facade, Spellsitrong shouted his next word with a genuinely happy lilt in his voice. "Predictable!"

This time, the giant barely had time for the word to register before he let out his biggest and final sneeze--the force of which was so great that his head burst open. His hair floated into the sky to make the clouds. His eyes rose to become the stars. His tortured nose landed in the north of India to become the craggy peaks of the Himilayas. As the crumpled remains of the giant collapsed to the ground, so did Spellsitrong's jaw. He was in shock. He had beaten the brute. Sure, it wasn't by any particular strength in his spelling, but he won nonetheless. A satisfied grin spread across the face of the erstwhile champion. It was the smile of Lady Luck, who, for unknown reasons, saw fit to shine her light on this most incompetent of fools. Though they may kill us for their sport, the gods may also extend the game from time to time--even if for only one period more.

Officialness and stuff...

2005-05-19T18:21:00.000-07:00

Capitalism or Why the "Shift" Key Doesn't Matter

2005-05-02T17:51:00.000-07:00

Making money is easy. All that is required is to convince other people to give you their money. If you want to be rich, you must figure out how to do this effectively. All ethical considerations aside (since this is capitalism, ethics must needs take a back seat to the power of the Almighty Dollar), your fundamental choice is to convince the other by persuasion or force. We will leave force aside, since this only applies to governments or criminals (NOTE: that is not an exclusive or. i.e., both can be true).

Methods of Persuasion:

1) The L. Ron Hubbard -- "God wants you to give me money."
Primarily the prerogative of organized religions, the argument works something like this:
a) You believe in God
b) I can convince others to believe in God.
c) Give me money so I can convince others to believe in God (and give me more money)
Note that this is no particular god, any god will do. Feel free to use a sufficiently mysterious concept like Dianetics or Medichlorians to substitute for a deity, if you wish.

2) The Sally Struthers Method -- "Give me money because of this thing that is cute, sad or sick."
The technique pulls at your heartstrings and may succeed in opening a wallet where many other attempts would fail. People feel ashamed for their own good fortune and will gladly assuage their guilt by giving some of that to the less fortunate--regardless of whether or not the afflicted will receive any benefit from the donation. We're only talking about warm-fuzzies here. No need for any actual good to be done.

3) Backsies -- "If you give me money, someone else will give you money."
This one is closely tied to the Sally Struthers Method. If the heart strings don't pull tight enough, the power of the phrase "tax write-off" may ring louder in their ears. "Warm Fuzzy" + "Screw You, Uncle Sam" = *ching ching*
A common variation is The Pyramid Scheme.

4) The Annie Oakley -- "Anything you can do, I can do better."
This method entails providing a service that the person could otherwise do themselves, if they weren't so lazy or irresponsible. i.e.,
"Give me money to change your oil."
"Can't I change my own oil?"
"It's easier if you just give me money."

5) The Madonna -- "I'm living in a material world, and I am a material girl."
People always want stuff. People are always willing to pay you for stuff. If they don't need the stuff you're selling, convince them otherwise.

6) The Veruca Salt -- "I want it now."
This one is very clever. Relying on the impulsive behavior of most people, give them money now in exchange for them giving you more money in return later. You essentially sell money. Not bad work, if you can get it.
"I want a $100."
"Okay, that will cost you $150."
"Sounds good to me!"
Bonus points are given to store credit cards, since they provide the double whammy of The Madonna and The Veruca Salt.

You can combine variations of these to get new and novel concepts like "The Gift That Keeps on Giving." Combine any combination of The Madonna and The Annie Oakley and you have a surefire way to make money by getting people to give you money for something that costs them money to keep. Two Madonnas gives you the Gilette method--sell a razor for a small amount of money. Charge a lot for the blades. To make the initial purchase of the razor "worth it," people are willing to buy a lot of blades. TiVo uses a Madonna and an Annie Oakley to get their revenue--buy the box, then pay the subscription fee unless you want a very expensive paper weight. And of course all of these can be combined with a Veruca Salt to make more money still! Your earning potential is only limited by your creativity. And remember, at the poker table of life, if you can't spot the sucker in 5 minutes, you're the sucker.

If you liked today's content, feel free to send me money.

Joey's Dream

2005-01-26T04:18:00.000-07:00

This is in response to Joey's dream, as posted on his blog:

Okay. The important thing to remember is that the T-Rex was dead to begin with. Remember this, or nothing that follows will seem strange and wonderous. Come with me as we see how far down the rabbit hole goes. At first, I believed these to be three unrelated dreams, until I reached point "4". It is in this seemingly innocuous soporific statement that the truth is revealed. This was a cry for help waiting for the right person to hear. You may not have thought it would do any good, but you couldn't have been more wrong.

The key is to take all three dreams as part of a larger whole. The essence of each section is:
1) Jurassic Park
2) ASU
3) Harvey Korman

Go to Google and enter the following in the search box and click "I'm Feeling Lucky.":
"Harvey Korman" "Jurassic Park" ASU

It will take you to this site:
http://www.public.asu.edu/~msitome/top50movies.htm

On this page, you will find two Harvey Korman movies as well as Jurassic Park. The numbers on the list are 37, 32, and 21. 37 - 21 = 16 = 32 / 2. Adding together the digits we have:
3 + 7 = 10
3 + 2 = 5
2 + 1 = 3
Each sum is the previous number divided by 2, rounded to the nearest integer. 2 is clearly the magic number. Continuing the pattern, the next sum should be 2, meaning we are supposed to look at movie 11 or movie 2. Pulp Fiction or Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope.

Samuel L. Jackson was in both Jurassic Park and Pulp Fiction. This leaves us with two Harvey Korman movies and two Samuel L. Jackson movies. The question now becomes, what is Samuel L. Jackson trying to warn us about?

In Jackie Brown, SLJ says a line "Now, you should listen to this, 'cause it concerns you." He also had a small role in Kill Bill 2, and in this movie, the character Elle

Driver says the exact same line. In context, she is talking about the lethality of the bite of a black mamba. The full quote can be found here:
http://imdb.com/title/tt0378194/quotes

Now it is clear. The overall theme of your dream was lizards, tying back into the fear of the dinosaur in the first dream. From here (http://www.hyperdictionary.com/dictionary/lizard) we get a definition of what a dream about lizards means, which in the context of what you have posted recently, seems apropos. Now, you should listen to this, 'cause it concerns you.

"Seeing a lizard in your dream means your primal instincts and reactions toward sex, food, etc. and your anxieties toward these feelings. The lizard can also be representative of a person who you view as cold-blooded, fearful, or thick-skinned. On a more positive note, the lizard also symbolizes emerging creativity, renewal, and revitalization. It may also suggest that you are well-grounded."

Anxiety towards food: Meg being eaten by a dinosaur
Cold-blooded person & primal instincts toward sex: your fear of becoming that Cold-Hearted Snake in the situation described in your second dream.
Emerging creativity, renewal, revitalization: Your admiration for Harvey Korman's past work, and as he mentioned that his career is essentially over, so will yours rise from the ashes. Your recent good fortune in both your performance work and sound design puts you on the cusp of realizing your creative dreams.

If this seems far-fetched, you should try reading The DaVinci Code.

Correlation and Causation

2004-12-11T00:51:00.000-07:00

Let me preface this anecdote with a brief description of the difference between correlation and causation. I'm sure most of you know that just because two events are correlated that it does not mean that one caused the other. For example, even if event A happens around the same time as B, A might not cause B. A third event, C, could have caused both A and B. If this is too abstract, just ponder this little fact: the US has never lost a war in which donkeys were used. Now should we trade in all of our M1 Abrams for Eeyore in a flak jacket? Remember this, or nothing that follows will seem wondrous and amazing--or make any sense. Anyway, on to the story...

Although it may seem surprising, I was very serious as a child. Very serious, very matter-of-fact; a precocious and therefore obnoxious know-it-all. Moreso than I am now, even. I also had a tendency to not get the joke; or at least I would get the joke but them proceed to tell the questionable comedian where he or she was mistaken. I was a barrel of laughs back then. Case in point, the phrase "it's always in the last place you look." I took this advice solemnly to heart as a great piece of wisdom about how hard it is to find things that you've lost. I never made the logical leap that, by definition, any missing item is in the last place you look because once you find it, you stop looking. I had assumed just correlation, when causation had reared its ugly head. Embarrassingly, since this phrase entered my head as an idiomatic expression long before I could question my analysis, I did not make this connection until very late in life--high school, in fact. One of my fellow thespians made some comment about how much that phrase annoyed her. I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out why that particular colloquialism would be annoying, when it hit me like a ton of bricks. The world became a little bit bigger for me that day, and the stars just a little bit brighter.

I have had many such "blonde" moments over the past quarter century. Most of them are just as harmless and humerous as this one (or even funnier, if you didn't care for it), but one in particular stands out as having a powerful impact on what is important to me and one of my self-described defining characteristics.

I was once an altarboy at Mountain View Lutheran Church, for those who know it. Save your jokes; I was Lutheran and our clergy were allowed to marry, sparing us from the iniquities of some other unnamed denominations. One Sunday morning, as I was in the narthex in my robe, lighter/snuffer in hand, waiting for my opportunity to shine, an elderly man who was volunteering as an usher struck up a conversation with me. The conversation meandered like good banter does, and shortly before I was to go on, he said to me, "the day you don't learn anything is the day you die." Which brings us back to correlation and causation. There are two events in this statement: learning something (A) and being alive (B, or more specifically, not B, but that's not the question). A is clearly correlated to B. You can not be alive and not learn something, even if it is something mundane and trivial like "it was cloudy today." However, in my earnestness, I took this as more of a commandment: learn or you WILL die. I don't know if this short and inauspicious episode had a direct effect on how important it is to me to always be learning and trying something new, or if it just struck a mental chord with me (good ol' correlation and causation, yet again), but considering this is coming from somebody who can only stand the monotony of exercise by doing math problems in his head, it does at least seem a pretty accurate description.

(Let's see, a 150 lbs. person burns 100 calories per mile so that works out to...hmm...Let's see what that is in calories per step...that means I'm burning calories with X efficiency...cool, one mile down. Oh, and faster than usual...I wonder what my improvement per week is...)

Oops, I mean, the moral of the story is: learn something, or I'll kill you. NOW.

Did you vote today?

2004-11-02T14:18:00.000-07:00

Why not?

Eminem

2004-10-27T09:39:00.000-07:00

As some may know, I've been an Eminem fan for a while now. Misogyny and homophobia aside, he has written and produced some phenominal music--especially on The Eminem Show. He has a new video out, which is just amazing, in my opinion. He has positioned himself remarkably well over the past several years to put himself in a place to influence a lot of people, and he does a great job of using that in this video. I have a lot of respect for this man, and what he does. View. Listen. Discuss.

If interested here is another video I am fond of.

Of course, since this is Eminem, you may not want to play this at the ol' family reunion, or at Bible School. :)

I Got a New Car

2004-10-25T22:33:00.000-07:00

I bought a new car this weekend -- a 2004 White Honda S2000 with tan interior. I've already managed to put a couple hundred miles on it in two days.

Without further adieu, here are pictures:
pictures have been removed - Feb. '05

Notice the big grin on my face. :)

How many people know somebody who turned 24 today?

2004-10-21T15:43:00.000-07:00

Answer: all of you :)

And to make this post interesting, here's what happened on my birthday, 45 years ago:

President Dwight D. Eisenhower signs an executive order transferring the brilliant rocket designer Wernher von Braun and his team from the U.S. Army to the newly created National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA). Von Braun, the mastermind of the U.S. space program, had developed the lethal V-2 rocket for Nazi Germany during World War II.

I rocket.

So Long And Thanks For All the Episodes

2004-09-21T09:54:00.000-07:00

BBC Radio is reviving a series most of us are too young to have experienced first-hand. They have created 6 new episodes of Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy that will air over the coming weeks. Through the miracle of technology, Douglas Adams will be playing the role of Agrajag, despite the notable handicap of being dead.

Let's all raise a Djinan Tawnic to this sci-fi masterpiece and its talented creator. I will be glued to my (internet) radio after Thursday, when it becomes available for general download. The times listed on the web page are GMT+1, hence I can't listen live. I will be working, but such is life. If I can find a way to save the audio streams, I will do so.

Back Once Again with the Physical Master

2004-09-20T14:25:00.000-07:00

Found out Friday that I passed my qualifier, which means, officially, I have completed all the requirements for my Masters degree. Finally have that milestone under my belt :).

I'm a Creep

2004-08-09T01:05:00.000-07:00

I ran across a very well done flash animation set to Radiohead's Creep. I highly recommend viewing.

Peace Out.

EDIT:
Okay, it appears the flash has been taken down (temporarily?) due to possible copyright reasons or what-have-you. Here is the launch page for the site. Check back here as the will possesses you. If it gets put back up, then this will be where it happens first.

Thank you, Brian, for the updated mirror.

I took Jess's quiz as well.

2004-07-09T19:34:00.000-07:00

Here is the quiz I got from Jess's Blog 53/100 ain't too shabby...

IMDB's Top 100 Best Movies of All Time
generate this HTML for your own page at ObeytheFist.com

Rank	Movie	Didn't See It/ Started It/ Finished It/ Hated It!
1	Godfather, The (1972)	Finished It
2	Shawshank Redemption, The (1994)	Finished It
3	Godfather: Part II, The (1974)	Finished It
4	Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, The (2003)	Finished It
5	Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, The (2002)	Finished It
6	Casablanca (1942)
7	Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, The (2001)	Finished It
8	Schindler's List (1993)	Finished It
9	Shichinin no samurai (1954)
10	Star Wars (1977)	Finished It
11	Citizen Kane (1941)	Finished It
12	One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975)	Finished It
13	Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)	Finished It
14	Rear Window (1954)
15	Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back (1980)	Finished It
16	Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)	Finished It
17	Memento (2000)	Finished It
18	Usual Suspects, The (1995)	Finished It
19	Pulp Fiction (1994)	Finished It
20	North by Northwest (1959)
21	12 Angry Men (1957)	Finished It
22	Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain, Le (2001)	Finished It
23	Psycho (1960)	Finished It
24	Lawrence of Arabia (1962)	Finished It
25	Buono, il brutto, il cattivo, Il (1966)
26	Silence of the Lambs, The (1991)
27	It's a Wonderful Life (1946)	Finished It
28	Goodfellas (1990)	Finished It
29	American Beauty (1999)	Finished It
30	Vertigo (1958)
31	Sunset Blvd. (1950)
32	Matrix, The (1999)	Finished It
33	Apocalypse Now (1979)
34	Pianist, The (2002)	Finished It
35	To Kill a Mockingbird (1962)	Finished It
36	C'era una volta il West (1968)
37	Some Like It Hot (1959)	Finished It
38	Third Man, The (1949)
39	Taxi Driver (1976)	Finished It
40	Paths of Glory (1957)
41	Sen to Chihiro no kamikakushi (2001)
42	Fight Club (1999)	Finished It
43	Boot, Das (1981)
44	Double Indemnity (1944)
45	L.A. Confidential (1997)	Finished It
46	Chinatown (1974)	Finished It
47	Singin' in the Rain (1952)	Finished It
48	Maltese Falcon, The (1941)	Finished It
49	M (1931)
50	Requiem for a Dream (2000)	Finished It
51	Bridge on the River Kwai, The (1957)
52	All About Eve (1950)
53	Se7en (1995)	Finished It
54	Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)	Finished It
55	Saving Private Ryan (1998)	Finished It
56	Cidade de Deus (2002)
57	Raging Bull (1980)
58	Rashômon (1950)
59	Wizard of Oz, The (1939)	Finished It
60	Sting, The (1973)
61	Alien (1979)	Finished It
62	American History X (1998)	Finished It
63	Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939)
64	Léon (1994)	Finished It
65	Vita è bella, La (1997)
66	Touch of Evil (1958)
67	Manchurian Candidate, The (1962)
68	2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)	Finished It
69	Treasure of the Sierra Madre, The (1948)
70	Great Escape, The (1963)	Finished It
71	Wo hu cang long (2000)
72	Reservoir Dogs (1992)	Finished It
73	Clockwork Orange, A (1971)	Finished It
74	Amadeus (1984)
75	Modern Times (1936)
76	Ran (1985)
77	Annie Hall (1977)
78	Jaws (1975)
79	On the Waterfront (1954)
80	Braveheart (1995)
81	High Noon (1952)
82	Apartment, The (1960)
83	Fargo (1996)	Finished It
84	Sixth Sense, The (1999)	Finished It
85	Aliens (1986)	Finished It
86	Shining, The (1980)	Finished It
87	Strangers on a Train (1951)
88	Blade Runner (1982)
89	Metropolis (1927)
90	Duck Soup (1933)
91	Finding Nemo (2003)	Finished It
92	Donnie Darko (2001)
93	General, The (1927)
94	City Lights (1931)
95	Princess Bride, The (1987)	Finished It
96	Toy Story 2 (1999)	Finished It
97	Kill Bill: Vol. 1 (2003)	Finished It
98	Great Dictator, The (1940)
99	Sjunde inseglet, Det (1957)
100	Lola rennt (1998)	Finished It

Which movies have you seen?

I have returned

2004-06-24T15:38:00.000-07:00

I have returned from Hawaii, and in the same vein, I have returned to blogging. I have abandoned it for far too long and it's time to write more again. With school now safely out of the way I will have fewer distractions pulling me from my more creative pursuits. I know actions speak louder than words, but in this case the actions are words.

JoAnn ran her first marathon this past Sunday in Kona, Hawaii, and she finished in 5 hours, 24 minutes. Not too shabby for a first shot, eh?

Jo and I also got engaged while in the tropics. We have not set a date. We will likely begin the planning process next year. I have my quals this fall, and we will be house hunting later this year and we don't want to have to deal with wedding planning on top of that. I will keep all of you apprised of important updates, of course.

For pictures and whatnot, check out JoAnn's website and click on "Pictures." It has a link to some photo galleries. Hawaii pics aren't up yet, but will be tonight or tomorrow night.

Blog Resuscitation

2004-02-06T23:28:00.000-07:00

There are only three things needed to accomplish anything in life: resources, motivation, and time. I have been short on all three, hence the neglect of my blog. I am slowly nursing it back to health, and hope to have a couple of short stories posted in the near future.

Thank you for your concern.

Insanity from Space

2003-10-28T23:44:00.000-07:00

I came across some interesting imagery on my daily treck through the interweb today.

We don't need no water let the motha-***** burn...
Sun Go Boom
Sun Going Boom

Thank you Earth Observatory for providing the fodor for this update.

New discussion board

2003-10-23T13:27:00.000-07:00

Hey all. I figured since we have a tendency to get into discussions quite a bit, a message board might be a better forum than the "Shout Out" box after each post.

The board is at: http://daguys.proboards24.com/

Feel free to link to this after any of your posts. I will add it to my template so the link is automatically available.

You don't have to register to view or post, but it would be helpful to know who you are :)

See you there :)

Birthday

2003-10-21T00:39:00.000-07:00

I am 23 today. Bow down before me, or at least leave me a nice message :)

Double-plus Goodread

2003-10-09T01:19:00.000-07:00

I just finished reading 1984 today. Doubleplusgood book. Orwell is (was) a very smart man. I like how he managed to predict the cold war stalemate, and specifically nuclear arms proliferation--all before the book was published in 1949.

One of the major sources of conflict in the book is the dichotomy between two differing views of human nature. On one hand, you have "The Blank Slate." Put simply, this is the philosophy that contends that all humans are infinitely malleable; that who they are is entirely a product of their environment. This view is the one held by religious groups (stemming from a belief in the soul) and by the far left--generally borderline socialist and beyond, including many college students (stemming from the belief that culture is its own self contained entity). Due to the extremist movements of the 60s and 70s, this view is the one that is engrained in our culture and has had a profound effect on our public policy.

On the other hand, you have the sociobiologists. They purport that much of what makes up human nature is defined, at least in part, by genes. The characteristics that are at least partially heritable include: intelligence, propensity for violence, liberalism/conservatism, and several others. This view is held by many in the psychological and cognitive science fields, at least by those who don't fall under the liberal extremist category. It is also, interestingly, a view held somewhat instinctively by much of the population, even though they pay lip-service to the Blank Slate. Idiomatic expressions such as "He's a bad egg" and "Winners are born, not made" attest to this belief. (To get a detailed description of these two views and a defense of cognitive science, check out The Blank Slate: The Modern Denial of Human Nature by Steven Pinker.)

Now, in 1984, these two are set against each other. The Party believes that "human nature is infinitely malleable" and use this to control not only the actions but the thoughts of its citizens. The Party believes that "whoever controls the present controls the past; and whoever controls the past controls the future." Truth exists only in the mind, so if they control the mind, they control everything and will then be endowed with absolute power. The lead character, Winston, believes there is such a thing as absolute truth and that, some day, the proles--the unwashed masses--will rise up against their oppressors and once again be free. The Party is not completely naive, and realizes that maintaining absolute power over an entire nation of hundreds of millions of people will not occur through a simple "socialization." Torture, fear, and intimidation are necessary tools to keep the lower castes from revolting.

Now here is the question I pose to you:

First, ask yourself where you stand on the issue of the Blank Slate vs. sociobiology. Now, envision a 1984-like society and try to imagine the outcome. If the Blank Slate is correct, the population, in theory, should be able to be socialized into accepting complete domination by an all-encompassing power--they would never revolt. However, if sociobiology is correct, and all human beings inherently want to have "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness," then given enough time, all oppressed peoples will eventually overthrow their oppressors. Based on your own experiences and perception of human nature, where do you fall on these issues? What conflicts (if any) arise from these beliefs? How do you justify them?

Baking and Poetry

2003-10-08T23:48:00.000-07:00

Red, Ripe and Round
Quite Sweet and Tasty
Delicious inside
A cinnamon Pastry

Put in the Oven
Bake at 350
Wait 15 minutes
Don't go too swiftly

When golden brown
Remove from the oven
And that's how you make
My rhymed Apple Muffins.

A Brief Poem

2003-10-05T17:52:00.000-07:00

To verb a noun
Is a beautiful sound,
But to noun a verb
Is simply superb.

One of the most interesting things to watch...

2003-10-05T02:06:00.000-07:00

Right now I'm watching some program about cartoons on VH1. Don't even get me started on the stupidity of having show about cartoons on a MUSIC station. Stupid TV execs. Anyhoo, on this program, they had a brief blurb on the Simpsons--the original prime-time cartoon that wasn't just for kids anymore. Just like Frosted Flakes. Mmm...Frosted Flakes... Ahem. During this blurb, they interviewed Hank Azaria, who is quite possibly one of the most amazing voice actors ever. In this interview he recapped almost every single one of his major characters on the show. He seamlessly transitioned between Moe, Apu, Chief Wiggum, Snake, Comic-Book Guy, and many more. Now it is difficult to describe the emotions one experiences while watching this impressive display of vocal acrobatics, but it is quite powerful. Perhaps this is more an indication of my character than of any over-arching quality of human nature, but one comes to develop a deep and real relationship with these characters. Homer, Bart, Maggie, Lisa, Marge, these are all real people within the confines of my mind. They can inspire, disappoint, confuse, entertain, provide all of the qualities of a real human relationship. I often share anecdotes from the Simpsons as if I experienced them first hand. Now, when you view the voice actor recreating these characters in front your very eyes, your mind gets caught in a very delicate situation: since you see all of these characters coming out of one mouth, either the characters are not real, or the voice actor is host to the whole lot of them. Now, we have established that the ink & paper are as real as the flesh & blood. Therefore, they share an equal portion of the knowledge base with which we measure other members of the human race. Consequently, the first choice is not an option. It has too much potential to upset your entire personal belief structure about human nature. This is the subtle step that moves the characters out of the silver screen and into the 3-D world. To sum up the emotional translation, it is akin to the experience giving birth. A new life is brought into the world and, as with all newborns, leaves its indelible mark on the world.

Keep in mind, that during the Renaissance, the great artists of the day created art for a living. They were every bit as commercial as today's creators of film, TV, music, and other forms of art. Only time will tell which of these ventures will be taught to the eager young minds of our great-great-grandchildren. I hope to god that they never hear of Jerry Bruckheimer.

On an interesting side note, when I ran spell check on this post, the suggested spelling for "Bruckheimer" was "brokenhearted." This is a very smart blog.

2003-07-23T17:50:00.000-07:00

Elections are only about 16 months away. Vote Dean

2003-06-11T03:37:00.000-07:00

I'm done with school on Thursday. Forever. And I don't really care. I feel like I should care, but I don't. It'll be nice to not have homework anymore, but I'll also be working more than twice the hours I am now, so it kind of balances out. Just like getting my B.S., working on my M.S. has been very anticlimactic. You put in a ton of time and effort, and all you have to show for it in the end is a piece of paper.

To be fair, this piece of paper provides a much larger income than most other pieces of paper, but in the end it is just another piece of paper. It doesn't mean I am any smarter. It doesn't mean I am better qualified. It might mean I am slightly more attractive, but that could just be my imagination.

Why did I spend these past 18 years working towards this? Hopefully not just so I can make enough money to afford to put my kids through it too. (It's okay to read that last sentence again. I know it's poorly worded.) I am reminded all too often, by my own experience and what I have witnessed, that a degree gives very minimal indication of one's education and abilities and provides even less preparation for the future. The vast majority of what I do at work, I learned at work or on my own time. School provided me some opportunity to hone these skills, but in aggregate the five years of college didn't amount to much. Although, I could tell you in FAR too much detail exactly what happens to an atom if you ram a photon into it. Fascinating, huh?

I guess it comes down to this. What I want out of life is to learn. And I want somebody to pay me for it (or at least I want to have enough money where I don't need to be paid). And I don't want to have people checking on my progress along the way with tests, homework, or status reports. Some of my favorite moments in recent history have been at Starbucks with a coffee in one hand and a book on linguistics in the other (check out "The Language Instinct" by Steven Pinker. v.g.). I've learned a lot about linguistics without having been "taught" anything. Most of the stuff I find most interesting or useful I taught myself. Computer programming, linguistics, German, and soon, hopefully, Old English.

The only problem with this method of learning is that people in the real world demand some sort of proof that you know what you say you know, which brings me back to that silly piece of paper. It's a horrible quantifier of what one knows. I've seen people get Physics degrees when they couldn't physics their way out of a box on the physicingest day of their life! But, I digress...

I just hope the stock market keeps going up so I don't have to work for anybody or go to school for anybody anymore.

2003-06-11T02:53:00.000-07:00

I've always wanted to punch a kangaroo in the face.

Is there something wrong with me?

2003-05-22T02:07:00.000-07:00

This is the result of a alphabet game between me and Joey:

All by carrying deer-droppings, Ezekial forced Gertrude, his indignant jappy knight, laughing my nuts off. Please quilt Rasputin's socks under vineyards while xenophones yodle "Zode-uh-ley-hee-hoo!!!"

It's far too late to be creative, but that never stopped us from trying.

2003-05-16T19:18:00.000-07:00

Well, this is my first update in a very long time. Sometimes my laziness even amazes me. So, in an effort to make up for my lackadaisical attitude, I am throwing these 32-bit Unicode characters in your face at a breathtaking 54Mbps. Yes, that's right, I have joined the ranks of technophiles and computer geeks the world over. I am the proud owner of a 802.11g (draft) wireless network. Now I can be productive and lazy at the same time! I think my world is now complete :). I am typing this while watching Drew Carey reruns and sitting on the couch.

I only hope cancer research is progressing as rapidly as wireless technology is. I certainly hope I won't be a part of a lawsuit against wireless companies 50 years down the road about how "I didn't know the harmful effects of wireless networking!"

I'll be sure to let you know if they find any tumors in my leg.

2003-03-21T02:49:00.000-07:00

Courage is not fighting a battle you cannot lose; it is fighting a battle you cannot win, because it is right.

The terms 'courage' and 'hero' have been used a lot over the past decade that I have been aware of a world outside of own limited experience. So much so that the meaning and depth of the words have passed out of knowledge. What is courage? Who are these heros? What distinguishes them from the rest of us who, while not cowardly, are not courageous; while not villians, are certainly not heroes? This is explored in many works of literature, both academic and popular with the victors exalted to myth and legend.

It would seem that most people ascribe to the Star Wars-esque version of heroism. Han Solo flies into battle--guns blazing--both he and the audience secure in his safety and victory since good always triumphs over evil. One can substitute the protagonist from virtually any mainstream film or novel and see the same basic structure. It stems from the western Christian ethic in which the meek shall inherit the earth. We can stride confidently into adversity because we know have divine approval and protection. Our self-righteousness gives us hope, but this is not the stuff courage is made of. How much character does it take to peform a task that cannot fail? We all face this kind of adversity every day, simply walking out the door. We are not heroes simply for the fact that even in our acts of philanthropy we have little to lose and everything to gain. Who among us has not felt a certain amount of pride and self-satisfaction when helping another human being in need? Notice that this is not cowardly or villianous, even though it is not courageous. These acts of benevolence are certainly admirable and show a certain strength of character and conviction that should be encouraged and practiced often.

However, even though their work is dangerous and often thankless, a police officer is not, by definition, a hero; a firefighter is not, by definition, a hero; a soldier is not, by definition, a hero. They may put themselves in positions of higher risk in the interest of protecting the public, but they have a very reasonable expectation of returning home at the end of the day. Courage is when a mother throws herself into traffic to save her wayward child. A hero is a firefighter who runs up the stairs of a building on the verge of collapse while those possessed with the will of self-preservation clamber over each other to escape.

Ultimately, being a hero is not a job one applies for. It is forged out of the actions one takes when all hope is lost. One can give up and accept fate, or face failure head-on and stand up for what one believes in until the last breath is drawn.

2003-03-10T21:14:00.000-07:00

It's been a LONG time since I updated, so here goes.

I had an ingenious idea the other day, and to share my marketing prowess, here goes:

I had an idea for a restaurant--a themed restaurant. I would call it "Jesus' Fish 'n' Chips." We would obviously specialize in bottomless baskets of fish and bread, but we would have numerous other items as well. One appetizer would be the "Corpus Christi"--a light dish consisting of cheese & crackers. Comes with a free pitcher of Sacramental Wine. I'm tossing around a few other ideas as well. A "Capenter's Special," "Messiah Au Gratin," "Jeebus Cordon Bleu."

I welcome any suggestions. :)

2003-02-28T00:21:00.000-07:00

Of all the things I've known or seen
There's nothing as wonderful as my Jo-Bean
When watching a movie she'll fall fast asleep
And in the silence my hand slowly creeps
Up to her head and pulls her hair 'hind her ear
"It's time for bed, my JoJo, my dear."
She kisses me softly and says, "Good Night."
I lock the door, then turn out the lights.
As I return I hear her breath softly,
She's probably dreaming of Starbucks Brand Coffee.
While caffeine creations dance about in her head
I curl up beside her, in our warm bed.
I think to myself how lucky I've been
To've found my one and my only, my darling Jo-Bean.

-- dedicated to my girlfriend, JoAnn*

* She just created her page, and hasn't put anything on it yet. :)

2003-02-27T23:36:00.000-07:00

Friday Five:

1. What is your favorite type of literature to read (magazine, newspaper, novels, nonfiction, poetry, etc.)?
I oscillate between novels and nonfiction. Novels, currently.

2. What is your favorite novel?
Favorite novel would have to be The Lord of the Rings Trilogy.

3. Do you have a favorite poem? (Share it!)

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost

4. What is one thing you've always wanted to read, or wish you had more time to read?
I want to read more classic American literature (Catcher in the Rye, etc.) I also want to read a lot of books on mideval culture & history, and anything I can find on linguistics. I have a bookshelf full of this stuff waiting to be read.

5. What are you currently reading?
I am curently reading In The Hand of Dante, by Nick Tosches as well as rereading A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain.

2003-02-27T02:06:00.000-07:00

Kids say the cutest things.

Last night I took my niece out for a walk. While out, I paused to show her the stars.

"That one is Orion. See, those three stars are his belt, then his legs are below there. And above, you can see the stars that make his bow," I explained.

"Cool," she acknowledged.

I continued to point out more constellations. "That one is Cassiopia. It's shaped like a 'W'. Then, there is the Big Dipper, and right above us, way up there, is the Little Dipper. That bright star on the handle is the North Star. A long time ago sailors would use that star to navigate the seas at night."

She continued to stare up at the stars, her eyes twinkling back at them in awe. With her gaze still fixed upon the heavens, she asked me, "Uncle J, I don't understand. How do they all stay up there like that?"

"Well, all those little dots are big burning balls of gas, kind of like the sun. Some of them are even giant galaxies--full of billions and billions of stars. They are just really, really far away and that's why they look so small."

She looks at me and hesitates. "Yes, I understand all that. What I don't understand is why, when all the data seems to point to an expanding universe, some scientists still believe we are heading toward a Big Crunch. Wouldn't the red-shift data from the Hubble Telescope preclude that possibility?"

...

Kids say the cutest things.

2003-02-24T03:51:00.000-07:00

My mom pointed out to me yesterday, that I need to add a couple more identities to the list from my last post. I am, indeed, also a son and a brother. To leave these out would be akin to saying water is not wet, for my family has done more to shape who I am than any other influence in my life. So, I offer my humble apologies for neglecting them yesterday.

Here is a short list of what my family has taught me over the years:

Dad: He taught me that providing for a family is much, much more than what you have in the bank (although having enough money can make it much easier to provide everything else).

Mom: She has taught me virtually everything I know about parenting. I won't be using this knowledge for many years, but when that time comes I know I will be very well prepared. I also know she'll be there for me for the times when I missed a lesson :-)

Nick: He provided me the opportunity to perfect my left hook :-). But, in all seriousness, I was an atrocious older brother. I specialized in emotional abuse instead of the more garden-variety beatings that make up most sibling rivalries. And for that, I am truly sorry. But, looking back on it now, I learned how fragile the ego can be--both mine and his. I would attack him to sustain my delusions of being an infallible genius, something I still have to work on at times... But, more importantly, I learned how strong the human spirit can be. In spite of all this torture, and many other difficulties in his life, he has grown up to be a mature, responsible, well-adjusted young adult with every indication of success ahead of him. The saying goes, "You can't keep a good man down," and Nick is one of the best. Way to go Nick, I'm proud of you :-)

Kory: He is about the best little (little) brother a guy could ask for. His greatest lesson to me is the joys of being a kid. When we're together I can be an 11-year-old and not feel guilty about it. (What does a stupid pirate say? "Sssss" :-P) Laughing at fart jokes and crashing airplanes are all in the course of a normal day, and it's a very refreshing escape from the drudgery that can sometimes be school and work. I'll give him a good tickling when I see him this weekend to show him I appreciate it, so you better watch out, Tinker :-D.

This is only a very short summary of how my family has influenced who I am today. It would take a volume on the order of "War and Peace" to write the complete version. (See, Ma? I didn't forget you guys!)

2003-02-22T23:28:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my inaugural blog. Since I don't have much else to share, I will start with a brief introduction. I am an engineer. I am a student. I am a boyfriend. I am often lazy. Not necessarily in that order, and usually I am many of these at once.

I am getting my Master's Degree in Physics because it's convenient and will get me out of school the fastest and into the working world soonest. Then, hopefully, I will make my fortune and move out of the real world and into my own fantasy world, which I am creating as we speak.

I hope to build my own "Rivendell." Find a nice secluded plot of land in the middle of nowhere and build a home worthy of mother nature. There I will read, write, commune with the animals (No, not that. I'm not from New Hampshire...).

Most of all though, I hope to travel. The world is a beautiful place and life is too short to only stare at one small piece. It would be like trying to divine the structure of a patchwork quilt by looking at one thread in the corner--the very definition of futility. Travel is a humbling experience. Every trip forces you to take those truths that you thought were self-evident and reexamine them in the context of the cultures you encounter. Some are reinforced, but most are dashed to pieces, leaving you with a simpler and greater view of terra than you had before.

As I promised to keep this brief, I will write more as the will posesses me.