Vices
Normally I'd save this for a Friday, but I'm typing right now and this happens to be what's coming out. I figure I may as well roll with it.
Certainly we all have vices secret and otherwise. No doubt you'll be a little suprised at some of mine. While I doubt any of you were suprised to find that Vox has a Duran Duran fetish, you may be suprised to find out that I have a thing for wine.
I have a particular fondness for Californian and Australian wines, while I have almost complete disdain for the French. Largely this is related to the technology involved, as Americans and Aussies use modern chemical engineering to assure consistancy. At the same time quality control in France is truely pathetic.
You should understand that paying more than 15 bucks for a bottle of French wine is insane. It's like playing the lottery. It may be one of the best bottles you've ever had, or it may be red piss. Even if it is excellent, you can go back and try the exact same vintage agian, and it will likely taste entirely different.
Of the three most notable trends in the industry, 2 are pretty contraversial. The first is the modernization of the process. The use of modern technologies to chart the chemical reactions, and chemical make-ups of the wines. Traditional wineries (mostly in France) refuse to modernize. They've done it a certain way for 300 or 400 years and they ain't changin'. This modernization has actually rekindled the second contraversial topic; Cork Failure.
Now cork failure is an interesting debate. One that modernization has shed a lot of light on. Once you have quality control down, you have a better idea of how often corks really fail. It's remarkable to me that people will see a bottle with a twist cap and assume its cheap wine. This is just silly. You can hardly blame today's wine makers for switching to caps. They've spent tons of money insuring that their wines are consistant. They simply aren't going to tolerate a bottle being ruined by a cork that didn't seal.
Contrast this with the traditionalist over in France. They already know their wine is inconsisant, and cork failure gives them a built in excuse. Every time someone gets a crappy bottle out of a high scoring vintage, they automaticly blame the cork.
This comes down to American professionalism vs. European tradition... Ah but enough... let's have some fun! What about some recommendations?
Jacob's Creek: Aussie's released a Chardonnay-Pinot Noir this year. Love them.
Avila: Their cabernet scored an 87... it costs 13 bucks. What more do you want?
Buehler: A cabernet for those looking to spend a little more. A 90, at 32 bucks. Unbelievable.
While on a trek through the dessert a wise man was offered some grapes to help him along. He declined saying, "I never take my wine in pill form."
I
Thursday, October 14, 2004
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
Baby F.A.Q.
As long as we've had Jeb, Julie and I have heard how lucky we are to have such an "easy" baby. He slept really well, ate really well, and was just happy. He never fussed about car rides (including 10 hour drives to Nashville), or even doctors appointments. Of course the as soon as people would compliment us on our luck, they would declare that our next baby would be a nightmare. As if God is sitting up in Heaven dealing out babies by temperment.
All people are different, and since babies are in fact people, all babies are different too. However this does not mean that different babies are substansially different than others in the infant stage. Barring illness, they all need and want the same things.
After listening to this crap about how bad our next baby was going to be, you can imagine that I was secretly happy when I was told that Tiny E was a poor sleeper, and required a lot of attention.
The first couple days watching a 10 week old infant, and a nearly 2 year old toddler... were predictably rough. They both needed something at the same time... all the time! The second night though... I came to a realization. I was doing the same things I had seen these stressed out women do. I wasn't treating Tiny E like I had treated Jeb. He was crying so I was tending to him all the time. Not good.
I talked to my Mom, who happens to be God's Own Baby Tender. We worked out a plan, and what do you know? Tiny E is now perfectly happy to sit by himself in his swing or chair, he's learning to play by himself. He's taking 3 1.5 to 2 hour naps while he's here with me. In otherwords... so much for that "High Needs Baby" crap.
There's a cult out there that claims that some babies are just far more demanding than others. That randomly people get babies who refuse to sleep, refuse to go out in public, refuse to try new food, and refuse to ride in the car. These children spend their days and nights screaming their heads off unless they are getting 1 on 1 attention at all times.
Mothers of these kids have organized blogs and support groups on the net, where they get together and comiserate. They even developed slang, where they refer to "normal" babies, as "lumps". You know... they're just a lump. You can carry them around anywhere.
As the proud father of a "Lump" this is a little irritating.
The worst thing about all this to me is the fact that there is really nothing wrong with these kids at all. Yet to hear people talk about these kids, they're little demons. It's the mothers and fathers that are the problem. They simply are screwing up, and its a miracle these children are putting up with them at all. If these kids are bad at all its because they were made that way, by the very people who now complain. I wonder as well at how parents assume that babies don't know what you're saying. This is absolutely false. If you continually talk about what a bad kid your baby is, he will eventually turn into a bad kid.
Now... I know some of these folks that have these "high needs" babies. In some cases, I really believe it's not always the parents fault. I mean, if you don't know about babies, and you get horrible advice, well it won't be shocking when you end up with a frustrated baby! If there is really someone to blame, blame the pediatricians, and the past-generations who have apparently decided to stop using common sense. It amazes me that people raise their babies based on what the latest 'studies say', when they don't understand the studies at all. As if infants today are different than infants 20 years ago... or 200 years ago for that matter. Babies don't change people! Feed them, keep them warm, and love on them! That's it!
In the interest of helpin' those babies out... Here's the FAQ.
My baby only sleeps when I hold him! This is a common problem, and one you've probably created yourself. Despite the infinitely stupid advice you've been given by your idiot doctor, you and your baby do not share an internal themometer. You may be very warm, while your baby could be freezing. He's not sleeping when you hold him because he loves you. He's sleeping because he's finally warm. Babies have spent their whole lives in a 99 degree oven. You know what 73 degrees feels like to them? Right. A freezer. They hate being cold. You're baby should feel warm when you touch him. If he doesn't, he's cold and unhappy. Put him to sleep with at least 3 layers on, and many blankets.
My baby doesn't take naps! That's rediculous. I was recently told by a pediatrician that there is a normal sleep range for 9-10 week old infants that varies from 8 to 18 hours a day. What a load of crap. This is just the result of doctors not wanting to tell new mom's they're screwing up. Listen carefully: Your baby is a human. Humans sleep when tired. Make sure you're kid is tired, then make sure they're good and warm, then get them a nice full belly, then put them down. The little fella will go right to sleep, and he'll probably sleep for a couple hours.
My baby screams in the car! You've probably been carrying your baby around to much, and they've learned that that is normal. Being away from has become not normal, and babies really aren't that fond of not-normal, unless they've been taught that not-normal is ok. People who have babies on strict predictable schedules often find that their life is pretty easy, until that schedule changes. Then all hell breaks loose. The better option is to make the child operate on your schedule. Take them out often. Mess with them. They like it, once they realize it's ok.
As an addendum to the first to points, I should mention that you should NOT be sleeping with your baby in the bed with you. This is a dumb idea. It may be easy on you breast-feeding moms, but it's hard on your kid. They like their own bed. They like their own space, and when you finally do decide to kick them out of the bed with you, it's going to be hard on them. Besides... why would you expect the child to sleep during the day, alone, when at night they sleep for hours with you beside them?
Ok.. granted it's a short FAQ. But hey, babies eat and sleep. There's not a lot of variation here.
Questions are welcome.
As long as we've had Jeb, Julie and I have heard how lucky we are to have such an "easy" baby. He slept really well, ate really well, and was just happy. He never fussed about car rides (including 10 hour drives to Nashville), or even doctors appointments. Of course the as soon as people would compliment us on our luck, they would declare that our next baby would be a nightmare. As if God is sitting up in Heaven dealing out babies by temperment.
All people are different, and since babies are in fact people, all babies are different too. However this does not mean that different babies are substansially different than others in the infant stage. Barring illness, they all need and want the same things.
After listening to this crap about how bad our next baby was going to be, you can imagine that I was secretly happy when I was told that Tiny E was a poor sleeper, and required a lot of attention.
The first couple days watching a 10 week old infant, and a nearly 2 year old toddler... were predictably rough. They both needed something at the same time... all the time! The second night though... I came to a realization. I was doing the same things I had seen these stressed out women do. I wasn't treating Tiny E like I had treated Jeb. He was crying so I was tending to him all the time. Not good.
I talked to my Mom, who happens to be God's Own Baby Tender. We worked out a plan, and what do you know? Tiny E is now perfectly happy to sit by himself in his swing or chair, he's learning to play by himself. He's taking 3 1.5 to 2 hour naps while he's here with me. In otherwords... so much for that "High Needs Baby" crap.
There's a cult out there that claims that some babies are just far more demanding than others. That randomly people get babies who refuse to sleep, refuse to go out in public, refuse to try new food, and refuse to ride in the car. These children spend their days and nights screaming their heads off unless they are getting 1 on 1 attention at all times.
Mothers of these kids have organized blogs and support groups on the net, where they get together and comiserate. They even developed slang, where they refer to "normal" babies, as "lumps". You know... they're just a lump. You can carry them around anywhere.
As the proud father of a "Lump" this is a little irritating.
The worst thing about all this to me is the fact that there is really nothing wrong with these kids at all. Yet to hear people talk about these kids, they're little demons. It's the mothers and fathers that are the problem. They simply are screwing up, and its a miracle these children are putting up with them at all. If these kids are bad at all its because they were made that way, by the very people who now complain. I wonder as well at how parents assume that babies don't know what you're saying. This is absolutely false. If you continually talk about what a bad kid your baby is, he will eventually turn into a bad kid.
Now... I know some of these folks that have these "high needs" babies. In some cases, I really believe it's not always the parents fault. I mean, if you don't know about babies, and you get horrible advice, well it won't be shocking when you end up with a frustrated baby! If there is really someone to blame, blame the pediatricians, and the past-generations who have apparently decided to stop using common sense. It amazes me that people raise their babies based on what the latest 'studies say', when they don't understand the studies at all. As if infants today are different than infants 20 years ago... or 200 years ago for that matter. Babies don't change people! Feed them, keep them warm, and love on them! That's it!
In the interest of helpin' those babies out... Here's the FAQ.
My baby only sleeps when I hold him! This is a common problem, and one you've probably created yourself. Despite the infinitely stupid advice you've been given by your idiot doctor, you and your baby do not share an internal themometer. You may be very warm, while your baby could be freezing. He's not sleeping when you hold him because he loves you. He's sleeping because he's finally warm. Babies have spent their whole lives in a 99 degree oven. You know what 73 degrees feels like to them? Right. A freezer. They hate being cold. You're baby should feel warm when you touch him. If he doesn't, he's cold and unhappy. Put him to sleep with at least 3 layers on, and many blankets.
My baby doesn't take naps! That's rediculous. I was recently told by a pediatrician that there is a normal sleep range for 9-10 week old infants that varies from 8 to 18 hours a day. What a load of crap. This is just the result of doctors not wanting to tell new mom's they're screwing up. Listen carefully: Your baby is a human. Humans sleep when tired. Make sure you're kid is tired, then make sure they're good and warm, then get them a nice full belly, then put them down. The little fella will go right to sleep, and he'll probably sleep for a couple hours.
My baby screams in the car! You've probably been carrying your baby around to much, and they've learned that that is normal. Being away from has become not normal, and babies really aren't that fond of not-normal, unless they've been taught that not-normal is ok. People who have babies on strict predictable schedules often find that their life is pretty easy, until that schedule changes. Then all hell breaks loose. The better option is to make the child operate on your schedule. Take them out often. Mess with them. They like it, once they realize it's ok.
As an addendum to the first to points, I should mention that you should NOT be sleeping with your baby in the bed with you. This is a dumb idea. It may be easy on you breast-feeding moms, but it's hard on your kid. They like their own bed. They like their own space, and when you finally do decide to kick them out of the bed with you, it's going to be hard on them. Besides... why would you expect the child to sleep during the day, alone, when at night they sleep for hours with you beside them?
Ok.. granted it's a short FAQ. But hey, babies eat and sleep. There's not a lot of variation here.
Questions are welcome.
Sunday, October 10, 2004
A day trip?
The wife and I have a sponteneous side. On any given weekend day, we get up in the morning, and there's just no telling what we're liable to get into... This saturday was a great example...
We got up and decided to head down to Cracker Barrel for some breakfast. Now some of the Yankee Contingent may be ignorant of the great joy that is Cracker Barrel, and for you I hold great pity. The place always has a huge roaring fire, and southern cooking that can't be beat. Needless to say we gorged ourselves.
On the way out we ran into a guy we knew who happened to be heading down to Elkins for some small town festival. After some errands we just decided... What the hell? Sure we had other stuff to do, but how often to you get to go to the "Forest Festival"? For crying out loud there were supposed to be lumberjack competitions! How do ya top that?
A fall drive through the hills of West Virginia is gorgeous. We made our lazy way, and eventually found ourselves walkin around a bustlin' fair. There were huge craft displays, so you can imagine that Julie was in heaven. I saw things that I never thought I'd witness in 2004. I saw a genuine Horshoes Tournament. Ringers... Everything they threw... Amazing...
We saw old timey carny displays like "SEE THE MAN EATING SNAKE!" and "4 FOOT SWAMP RAT!" I didn't actually see either one, as I was convinced that the rat was in fact a Kangaroo, and the snake was probably 5 feet long. Still... it was about nastalgia for me.
Jeb had a blast playin' with other youngin' in the little park. All in all you just couldn't top it.
Well... I thought you couldn't. See we came home a different route. We decided to hop on over to Phillipi and catch 119, then take it all the way home. It would be a real nice drive.... hehehe... Little did we know...
See... Makin' our way through Phillipi just as we're about to cross an old covered bridge, Julie spots a sign that says 'tourist info'.
Tourist Info? In Phillipi West Virginia? Well... when you've travelled around as much as I have, you learn that these are the best places in the world. You simply have no idea what you're liable to find. We didn't know it yet, but we were about to find out just how true that was.
We were greeted in this little building by a little old lady who frankly... defied description... except... well... if you've spent any time in small towns you've already met her. She's short, and talkative... and far more energetic than she has any right to be. She was wearing a rediculous dress in an unbelievable shade of purplish doom... and her hat... her hat... well... You know when you go into a bathroom... and they've decorated it by hanging a wicker hat on the wall.. complete with cheap fake flowers on the band? Yeah... She was wearing that hat. For some reason though... I got the distinct impression this old lady was dressed this way just to piss some other old lady off. You know how they do.
Anyway... it turns out this little place was a museam to the first land battle of the War for Southern Independence. The battle had raged through the covered bridge and down main street. There were artifacts and all manner of items from the time. Then... it happened...
The whole time the woman had been guiding us around she'd been dropping facts about this or that... Then she said something I'll never forget:
"Of course, the museum is free, but it's a dollar a piece if you want to see the mummies."
I struggled with that for several seconds, shook my head, and decided I had mis-heard her. Julie was just as confused as I was, but she's not one to let such things go. She wanted to be convinced that the woman had not said what it was that we could not believe she said.
But of course... she had said it. Now... I had turned down the Man-eating Snake, and the 4-Foot Rat for the same price, but I'll be damned if I was gonna pass up this.
We gave 'em 2 dollars and sure enough... back in the backroom they had two mummies. Mummified by some freak in the 1880s, who actually started a mummification company! The smithsonean had come by to visit, and apparently these mummies are still featured on National Geographic's "Mummy Roadshow".
Now I ain't never seen the Queen in her undies, as the fella says... but after this... well... I guess I've seen something ever-bit as stupifying as all that... and ya know... I guess I can die knowin' the good Lord didn't jip me.
Get out and take a drive y'all. Ain't no tellin' what you'll find.
The wife and I have a sponteneous side. On any given weekend day, we get up in the morning, and there's just no telling what we're liable to get into... This saturday was a great example...
We got up and decided to head down to Cracker Barrel for some breakfast. Now some of the Yankee Contingent may be ignorant of the great joy that is Cracker Barrel, and for you I hold great pity. The place always has a huge roaring fire, and southern cooking that can't be beat. Needless to say we gorged ourselves.
On the way out we ran into a guy we knew who happened to be heading down to Elkins for some small town festival. After some errands we just decided... What the hell? Sure we had other stuff to do, but how often to you get to go to the "Forest Festival"? For crying out loud there were supposed to be lumberjack competitions! How do ya top that?
A fall drive through the hills of West Virginia is gorgeous. We made our lazy way, and eventually found ourselves walkin around a bustlin' fair. There were huge craft displays, so you can imagine that Julie was in heaven. I saw things that I never thought I'd witness in 2004. I saw a genuine Horshoes Tournament. Ringers... Everything they threw... Amazing...
We saw old timey carny displays like "SEE THE MAN EATING SNAKE!" and "4 FOOT SWAMP RAT!" I didn't actually see either one, as I was convinced that the rat was in fact a Kangaroo, and the snake was probably 5 feet long. Still... it was about nastalgia for me.
Jeb had a blast playin' with other youngin' in the little park. All in all you just couldn't top it.
Well... I thought you couldn't. See we came home a different route. We decided to hop on over to Phillipi and catch 119, then take it all the way home. It would be a real nice drive.... hehehe... Little did we know...
See... Makin' our way through Phillipi just as we're about to cross an old covered bridge, Julie spots a sign that says 'tourist info'.
Tourist Info? In Phillipi West Virginia? Well... when you've travelled around as much as I have, you learn that these are the best places in the world. You simply have no idea what you're liable to find. We didn't know it yet, but we were about to find out just how true that was.
We were greeted in this little building by a little old lady who frankly... defied description... except... well... if you've spent any time in small towns you've already met her. She's short, and talkative... and far more energetic than she has any right to be. She was wearing a rediculous dress in an unbelievable shade of purplish doom... and her hat... her hat... well... You know when you go into a bathroom... and they've decorated it by hanging a wicker hat on the wall.. complete with cheap fake flowers on the band? Yeah... She was wearing that hat. For some reason though... I got the distinct impression this old lady was dressed this way just to piss some other old lady off. You know how they do.
Anyway... it turns out this little place was a museam to the first land battle of the War for Southern Independence. The battle had raged through the covered bridge and down main street. There were artifacts and all manner of items from the time. Then... it happened...
The whole time the woman had been guiding us around she'd been dropping facts about this or that... Then she said something I'll never forget:
"Of course, the museum is free, but it's a dollar a piece if you want to see the mummies."
I struggled with that for several seconds, shook my head, and decided I had mis-heard her. Julie was just as confused as I was, but she's not one to let such things go. She wanted to be convinced that the woman had not said what it was that we could not believe she said.
But of course... she had said it. Now... I had turned down the Man-eating Snake, and the 4-Foot Rat for the same price, but I'll be damned if I was gonna pass up this.
We gave 'em 2 dollars and sure enough... back in the backroom they had two mummies. Mummified by some freak in the 1880s, who actually started a mummification company! The smithsonean had come by to visit, and apparently these mummies are still featured on National Geographic's "Mummy Roadshow".
Now I ain't never seen the Queen in her undies, as the fella says... but after this... well... I guess I've seen something ever-bit as stupifying as all that... and ya know... I guess I can die knowin' the good Lord didn't jip me.
Get out and take a drive y'all. Ain't no tellin' what you'll find.
Friday, October 08, 2004
Language
There seems to be a bit of an on going debate with some friends of mine about the morality of cursing.
The straightest answer I have gotten so far is based on the fact that the words offend people. Now to me this is a totally unacceptable arguement. Depending on the company you are in the words will not offend anyone. Now, is murder any less wrong because the company you keep thinks it's ok? Hardly.
And if offense is enough to claim immorality, then wasn't Christ a profoundly immoral person? He went about offending people continually, and indeed, charged us to do so as well!
Also, let us consider, is morality subject to the whims of society? That's the logical conclusion of the argument. If society decides homosexuality is perfectly normal and should be celebrated, does the act suddenly cease being immoral? What about adultery? Rape?
Until shown otherwise, I conclude that language is a matter of social protocol, not morality. You don't have a right to happily wander through the world without being offended. Now it would be nice if you could avoid such things that are offensive to you, and that's why we have ratings on movies, and FCC broadcast regulations.
Let me finish up by asking you this... Some religious folks are offended at the very presence of pork. Does that make Pork immoral?
There is a difference between impolite, and immoral.
There seems to be a bit of an on going debate with some friends of mine about the morality of cursing.
The straightest answer I have gotten so far is based on the fact that the words offend people. Now to me this is a totally unacceptable arguement. Depending on the company you are in the words will not offend anyone. Now, is murder any less wrong because the company you keep thinks it's ok? Hardly.
And if offense is enough to claim immorality, then wasn't Christ a profoundly immoral person? He went about offending people continually, and indeed, charged us to do so as well!
Also, let us consider, is morality subject to the whims of society? That's the logical conclusion of the argument. If society decides homosexuality is perfectly normal and should be celebrated, does the act suddenly cease being immoral? What about adultery? Rape?
Until shown otherwise, I conclude that language is a matter of social protocol, not morality. You don't have a right to happily wander through the world without being offended. Now it would be nice if you could avoid such things that are offensive to you, and that's why we have ratings on movies, and FCC broadcast regulations.
Let me finish up by asking you this... Some religious folks are offended at the very presence of pork. Does that make Pork immoral?
There is a difference between impolite, and immoral.
Thursday, October 07, 2004
Thermodynamics of Hell
The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid-term. The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well.
Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic or endothermic?
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following:
First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving.
As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially.
Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.This gives two possibilities:
1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.
2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.
So which is it? If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, "It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you," and take into account the fact that I still have not succeeded in having an affair with her, then number 2 above cannot be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is endothermic and will not freeze over.
The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid-term. The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well.
Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic or endothermic?
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following:
First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving.
As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially.
Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.This gives two possibilities:
1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.
2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.
So which is it? If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, "It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you," and take into account the fact that I still have not succeeded in having an affair with her, then number 2 above cannot be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is endothermic and will not freeze over.
An Old Favorite
This old boy dies and finds himself at the Pearly Gates. Pete says howdy, shakes his hand, and commences to givin' him the grand tour.
As the two are chit chattin' and strollin' down a pretty gold paved road they pass a church. It's pretty wild in there. Folks wootin' and carryin' on. Fella says, "Pete, who's in there?"
"Oh.. Those are the Pentacostals. They sure have a big time."
So they head on down the road aways and pass another Church. "Who's in there Pete?"
"Methodists."
After passing several more churches, that he learned were the Baptists, Catholics, and Episcaple, Pete stopped him and said, "Now you have to be real quiet. We have to sneak by these folks."
"Why Pete?"
"That's the Church of Christ. They think they're the only ones here and we don't want to disappoint 'em."
This old boy dies and finds himself at the Pearly Gates. Pete says howdy, shakes his hand, and commences to givin' him the grand tour.
As the two are chit chattin' and strollin' down a pretty gold paved road they pass a church. It's pretty wild in there. Folks wootin' and carryin' on. Fella says, "Pete, who's in there?"
"Oh.. Those are the Pentacostals. They sure have a big time."
So they head on down the road aways and pass another Church. "Who's in there Pete?"
"Methodists."
After passing several more churches, that he learned were the Baptists, Catholics, and Episcaple, Pete stopped him and said, "Now you have to be real quiet. We have to sneak by these folks."
"Why Pete?"
"That's the Church of Christ. They think they're the only ones here and we don't want to disappoint 'em."
Rough Times Ahead
Around the country we are seeing that this election is clearly far more important to the extreme left, than the extreme right. We've now seen Republican Headquarters attacked in at least 3 states.
It's with a large grin that I watch the peace and love left resort to physical violence. A media whore like O'Reilly will of course frown on all extremists and attempt to lump them all together, but we've yet to see a Democrat Headquarters attacked. God knows the Far Right is better armed.
So, in the coming landslide victory (it is coming and it will be a landslide), the only interesting question to me is, will the left tolerate it? I suggest they will not.
History shows that when things don't go the way the conservatives want, they shake their heads and go back to work. When things don't go the way of the left though, there is hell to pay. Given that things have already turned violent, and they haven't even lost yet, it makes one wonder how far they will go when W wins over 50% of the vote (something Clinton never did).
For all the preperation and talk on the Far Right, wouldn't it be perfect if it was the Far Left that started the war?
Around the country we are seeing that this election is clearly far more important to the extreme left, than the extreme right. We've now seen Republican Headquarters attacked in at least 3 states.
It's with a large grin that I watch the peace and love left resort to physical violence. A media whore like O'Reilly will of course frown on all extremists and attempt to lump them all together, but we've yet to see a Democrat Headquarters attacked. God knows the Far Right is better armed.
So, in the coming landslide victory (it is coming and it will be a landslide), the only interesting question to me is, will the left tolerate it? I suggest they will not.
History shows that when things don't go the way the conservatives want, they shake their heads and go back to work. When things don't go the way of the left though, there is hell to pay. Given that things have already turned violent, and they haven't even lost yet, it makes one wonder how far they will go when W wins over 50% of the vote (something Clinton never did).
For all the preperation and talk on the Far Right, wouldn't it be perfect if it was the Far Left that started the war?
Hate
So common wisdom holds that hate and happiness cannot co-exist, that one who has hate in his heart will never be truely happy.
What a load of crap.
Everyone has hate in them. Just like everyone has lungs. It's part of the chasis people. Our emotions are all there, and we deal with the one that bubbles up to the surface at the time.
Think of it a game show wheel. The wheel has all the possible emotions on it, and you deal with the one that comes up. The wheel itself is spun by any number of circumstances, which vary greatly by sex, and by individual.
Let me give some examples:
I got to a Mall: Wheel Spins, lands on "Hate", "Contempt", "Revulsion", and "Discust", or more likely, bounces between those until I leave the mall.
I go for a ride on the CBR: Wheel spins, lands on "Joy", "Excitement", "Fear", "Peace", and "Content", or more likely, bounces between those until I hop off the bike.
Now, the psychobabble community would have us believe that because I hate the Mall people, that I am somehow carrying around some curse that affects me all the time. As if Hate is some consuming mind-virus.
Hate and Anger are not evil any more than Joy is good. They are natural reactions to circumstances. Anger provides a great burst of energy, and can be harnessed to do great things.
Like everything else in this clay chasis we carry around, emotions are tools to be used. The trouble is not deciding which to use, and which to ignore. The trick is to use them all correctly, and not to let them dominate your life.
So common wisdom holds that hate and happiness cannot co-exist, that one who has hate in his heart will never be truely happy.
What a load of crap.
Everyone has hate in them. Just like everyone has lungs. It's part of the chasis people. Our emotions are all there, and we deal with the one that bubbles up to the surface at the time.
Think of it a game show wheel. The wheel has all the possible emotions on it, and you deal with the one that comes up. The wheel itself is spun by any number of circumstances, which vary greatly by sex, and by individual.
Let me give some examples:
I got to a Mall: Wheel Spins, lands on "Hate", "Contempt", "Revulsion", and "Discust", or more likely, bounces between those until I leave the mall.
I go for a ride on the CBR: Wheel spins, lands on "Joy", "Excitement", "Fear", "Peace", and "Content", or more likely, bounces between those until I hop off the bike.
Now, the psychobabble community would have us believe that because I hate the Mall people, that I am somehow carrying around some curse that affects me all the time. As if Hate is some consuming mind-virus.
Hate and Anger are not evil any more than Joy is good. They are natural reactions to circumstances. Anger provides a great burst of energy, and can be harnessed to do great things.
Like everything else in this clay chasis we carry around, emotions are tools to be used. The trouble is not deciding which to use, and which to ignore. The trick is to use them all correctly, and not to let them dominate your life.
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
From Res Ispa with Love
A modern Orthodox Jewish couple, preparing for a religious wedding meets with their rabbi for counseling. The rabbi asks if they have any last questions before they leave. The man asks, "Rabbi, we realize it's tradition for men to dance with men, and women to dance with women at the reception. But, we'd like your permission to dance together, like the rest of the world."
Absolutely not," says the rabbi. "It's immodest. Men and women Always dance separately."
"So after the ceremony I can't even dance with my own wife?"
"No," answered the rabbi. "It's forbidden."
"Well, okay," says the man, "What about sex? Can we finally have sex?"
"Of ! course!," replies the rabbi."Sex is a mitzvah -a good thing within marriage, to have children!"
"What about different positions?" asks the man.
"No problem," says the rabbi. "It's a mitzvah!"
"Woman on top?" the man asks.
"Sure," says the rabbi. "Go for it! It's a mitzvah!"
"Doggy style?"
"Sure! Another mitzvah!"
"On the kitchen table?"
"Yes, yes! A mitzvah!"
"Can we do it on rubber sheets with a bottle of hot oil, a couple of vibrators, a leather harness, a bucket of honey and a porno video?"
"You may indeed. It's all a mitzvah!"
"Can we do it standing up?"
"No." says the rabbi."
"Why not?" asks the man.
"Could lead to dancing"
A modern Orthodox Jewish couple, preparing for a religious wedding meets with their rabbi for counseling. The rabbi asks if they have any last questions before they leave. The man asks, "Rabbi, we realize it's tradition for men to dance with men, and women to dance with women at the reception. But, we'd like your permission to dance together, like the rest of the world."
Absolutely not," says the rabbi. "It's immodest. Men and women Always dance separately."
"So after the ceremony I can't even dance with my own wife?"
"No," answered the rabbi. "It's forbidden."
"Well, okay," says the man, "What about sex? Can we finally have sex?"
"Of ! course!," replies the rabbi."Sex is a mitzvah -a good thing within marriage, to have children!"
"What about different positions?" asks the man.
"No problem," says the rabbi. "It's a mitzvah!"
"Woman on top?" the man asks.
"Sure," says the rabbi. "Go for it! It's a mitzvah!"
"Doggy style?"
"Sure! Another mitzvah!"
"On the kitchen table?"
"Yes, yes! A mitzvah!"
"Can we do it on rubber sheets with a bottle of hot oil, a couple of vibrators, a leather harness, a bucket of honey and a porno video?"
"You may indeed. It's all a mitzvah!"
"Can we do it standing up?"
"No." says the rabbi."
"Why not?" asks the man.
"Could lead to dancing"
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
On the Loss of a Child.
I don't know if this will help at all, but I hope it does.
The Funeral
-Luke the Drifter
I was walking in savannah past a church, decayed and dim
When slowly through the window came a plaintive funeral hymn
And my sympathy awakened and a wonder quickly grew
’til I found myself envired in a little colored pew.
Out front a colored couple sat in sorrow, nearly wild
On the altar was a casket and in the casket was a child
I could picture him while livin’, curly hair, protuding lips
I’d seen perhaps a thousand in my hurried southern trips.
Rose a sad, old colored preacher from his little wooden desk
With a manner sorta awkward, and countenance grotesque
The simplicity and shrewdness in his eithopian face
Showed the wisdom and ignorance of a crushed, undying race.
And he said, now don’t be weepin’ for this pretty bit of clay
For the little boy who lived there has done gone and run away
He was doin’ very finely and he appreciates your love
But his shore ’nuff father wanted him in the big house up above.
The lord didn’t give you that baby, by no hundred thousand miles
He just thought you need some sunshine, and he lent it for awhile
And he let you keep and love it ’til your hearts were bigger grown
And these silver tears you’re sheddin’ now is just interest on the loan.
Just think, my poor dear mourners, creepin’ ’long on sorrows life’s way
What a blessed picnic this here baby got today
Your good fathers and good mothers crowd the little fellow ’round
In the angel’s tender garden of the big plantation ground.
And his eyes they brightly sparkle at the pretty things he viewed
But a tear came, and he whispered, ’i want my parents , too’
But then the angel’s chief musicians teach that little boy a song
Says if only they be faithful they’ll soon be comin’ ’long.
So, my poor detached mourners, let your hearts with jesus rest
And don’t go to criticizin’ the one what knows the best
He has give us many comforts, he’s got the right to take away
To the lord be praised in glory, forever, let us pray.
I don't know if this will help at all, but I hope it does.
The Funeral
-Luke the Drifter
I was walking in savannah past a church, decayed and dim
When slowly through the window came a plaintive funeral hymn
And my sympathy awakened and a wonder quickly grew
’til I found myself envired in a little colored pew.
Out front a colored couple sat in sorrow, nearly wild
On the altar was a casket and in the casket was a child
I could picture him while livin’, curly hair, protuding lips
I’d seen perhaps a thousand in my hurried southern trips.
Rose a sad, old colored preacher from his little wooden desk
With a manner sorta awkward, and countenance grotesque
The simplicity and shrewdness in his eithopian face
Showed the wisdom and ignorance of a crushed, undying race.
And he said, now don’t be weepin’ for this pretty bit of clay
For the little boy who lived there has done gone and run away
He was doin’ very finely and he appreciates your love
But his shore ’nuff father wanted him in the big house up above.
The lord didn’t give you that baby, by no hundred thousand miles
He just thought you need some sunshine, and he lent it for awhile
And he let you keep and love it ’til your hearts were bigger grown
And these silver tears you’re sheddin’ now is just interest on the loan.
Just think, my poor dear mourners, creepin’ ’long on sorrows life’s way
What a blessed picnic this here baby got today
Your good fathers and good mothers crowd the little fellow ’round
In the angel’s tender garden of the big plantation ground.
And his eyes they brightly sparkle at the pretty things he viewed
But a tear came, and he whispered, ’i want my parents , too’
But then the angel’s chief musicians teach that little boy a song
Says if only they be faithful they’ll soon be comin’ ’long.
So, my poor detached mourners, let your hearts with jesus rest
And don’t go to criticizin’ the one what knows the best
He has give us many comforts, he’s got the right to take away
To the lord be praised in glory, forever, let us pray.
Sorry
I haven't posted much in the last few days. There's been some developments over at the house, and I've just been to busy. I've started watching our friend's infant, "Tiny E". Now Tiny E is an excellent little boy, and remarkably easy to get along with, but at 9 weeks old, he does require a great deal of attention. It has seriously cut into my time... worth it though to help out some friends.
Anyway, Jeb loves him, and its something I'm going to have to get used to. Our's will be hear around April 6th. Jeb brings him toys and constantly loves on him. Yeah... he's gonna do just fine at this 'big brother' stuff.
I figure with the money I'll pick up a 1911, a new over-under (can you say Beretta?), and maybe a pocket gun.
I haven't posted much in the last few days. There's been some developments over at the house, and I've just been to busy. I've started watching our friend's infant, "Tiny E". Now Tiny E is an excellent little boy, and remarkably easy to get along with, but at 9 weeks old, he does require a great deal of attention. It has seriously cut into my time... worth it though to help out some friends.
Anyway, Jeb loves him, and its something I'm going to have to get used to. Our's will be hear around April 6th. Jeb brings him toys and constantly loves on him. Yeah... he's gonna do just fine at this 'big brother' stuff.
I figure with the money I'll pick up a 1911, a new over-under (can you say Beretta?), and maybe a pocket gun.
Monday, October 04, 2004
Spaceship One
Well that's that. The X-Prize is officially won. If you didn't get to watch this live, you really missed a treat. Totally not like anything NASA has ever done. It was obvious that no one really knew what to expect.
When the little ship dropped off and fire her rocket, commentators were genuinely stunned. I don't think anyone expected it to be as athletic as it clearly is. She shot out well... like a rocketship is supposed to.
I feel like I just watched sci-fi. Truely cool.
In the next 5 years, we're going to learn how NASA has moved from being an exploration agency, to a risk-avoidance agency.
Private Enterprize baby!
Well that's that. The X-Prize is officially won. If you didn't get to watch this live, you really missed a treat. Totally not like anything NASA has ever done. It was obvious that no one really knew what to expect.
When the little ship dropped off and fire her rocket, commentators were genuinely stunned. I don't think anyone expected it to be as athletic as it clearly is. She shot out well... like a rocketship is supposed to.
I feel like I just watched sci-fi. Truely cool.
In the next 5 years, we're going to learn how NASA has moved from being an exploration agency, to a risk-avoidance agency.
Private Enterprize baby!
Saturday, October 02, 2004
Weed-eaters and Logic
This ole boy was goin' back to school, and he needed an elective class to fill out his schedule. He found himself talking to a professor about a class on logic. He was interested, but wasn't real sure what the fella would be teachin'.
The professor said, "Well.. let me demonstrate... Do you one a Weed-eater?"
The Fella: Yessir... Yessir... I do...
Professor: So you probably have a yard then.
Fella: Yessir.... Yisser...
Professor: And if you have a yard, then you own a house.
Fella: Yessir.
Professor: and if you own a house, then you're probably married.
Fella: Yessir.
Professor: And since you're married, I know that you are in fact a hetrosexual. See? All that from a weed-eater!
Impressed, the fella signed up for the class.
A couple weeks later the fella found himself in a bar talkin to his buddies about school. One of them asked about the logic class... He said, "well... its hard to explain... Do you own a weed-eater?"
His buddy said, "Nope"
"Fag."
This ole boy was goin' back to school, and he needed an elective class to fill out his schedule. He found himself talking to a professor about a class on logic. He was interested, but wasn't real sure what the fella would be teachin'.
The professor said, "Well.. let me demonstrate... Do you one a Weed-eater?"
The Fella: Yessir... Yessir... I do...
Professor: So you probably have a yard then.
Fella: Yessir.... Yisser...
Professor: And if you have a yard, then you own a house.
Fella: Yessir.
Professor: and if you own a house, then you're probably married.
Fella: Yessir.
Professor: And since you're married, I know that you are in fact a hetrosexual. See? All that from a weed-eater!
Impressed, the fella signed up for the class.
A couple weeks later the fella found himself in a bar talkin to his buddies about school. One of them asked about the logic class... He said, "well... its hard to explain... Do you own a weed-eater?"
His buddy said, "Nope"
"Fag."
Imagine
By John Lenin, with a few touches of reality thrown in for fun.
Imagine there's no heaven,
It's easy if you try,
No hell below us,
Above us only sky,
Imagine all the people
devoid of all morality, killing each other, stealing, and raping in an anarchistic orgy of survival of the strongest...
Imagine there's no countries,
It isnt hard to do,
Nothing to kill or die for,
No religion too,
Imagine all the people
With no conscience and no civilization.
Imagine no possesions,
I wonder if you can,
No need for greed or hunger,
A brotherhood of man,
Imagine all the people
Living like monkies in the jungle.
You may say Im a dreamer,
but Im not the only one,
I hope some day you'll join us,
Where you to can take what food you want, rape whom you want, kill whom you want, without fear of government reprizal. Where people have no motivation to produce anything, so they lay around and eventually starve to death.
And John-boy...
All I am saying.... Is Give War a Chance!
By John Lenin, with a few touches of reality thrown in for fun.
Imagine there's no heaven,
It's easy if you try,
No hell below us,
Above us only sky,
Imagine all the people
devoid of all morality, killing each other, stealing, and raping in an anarchistic orgy of survival of the strongest...
Imagine there's no countries,
It isnt hard to do,
Nothing to kill or die for,
No religion too,
Imagine all the people
With no conscience and no civilization.
Imagine no possesions,
I wonder if you can,
No need for greed or hunger,
A brotherhood of man,
Imagine all the people
Living like monkies in the jungle.
You may say Im a dreamer,
but Im not the only one,
I hope some day you'll join us,
Where you to can take what food you want, rape whom you want, kill whom you want, without fear of government reprizal. Where people have no motivation to produce anything, so they lay around and eventually starve to death.
And John-boy...
All I am saying.... Is Give War a Chance!
Friday, October 01, 2004
Real Friends
So I'm hangin' out at my my place... It's my birthday... I'm alone. Nothing to do. No one to see.
*** Knock Knock Knock ***
Now who the Hell is knockin' on my door at 10pm? The only friends I have in this Godless Hell Hole are Curt, and Erik and Ann. I know for a fact Curt is off bangin' some cute little brunette, and Anne and Erik are at home taking care of their 9 week old baby. Which is exactly where they should be... All three of them... well.. 4 if you count the brunette... 5 if you count the baby...
Anyway...
I put the firearm away when I realized who it was... and I opened the door to find Ann and Erik. These to people, who hate to leave their house, have taken the time to come over and give me a case of Corona. All because I happened to be born on this particular date in 1973.
These two had lots of better things to be doing. Erik has a 30 hour shift tomarrow... and this was Ann's first day back after maternity leave... Still they took the time to go out and buy me some Corona, stop by, and say, "howdy".
So... I hoist one to Ann and Erik. And well... To Curt too. Cause Hell... Were the rolls reversed, I'd be doing the same thing.
As Jamie might say....
Cheers Mates!
So I'm hangin' out at my my place... It's my birthday... I'm alone. Nothing to do. No one to see.
*** Knock Knock Knock ***
Now who the Hell is knockin' on my door at 10pm? The only friends I have in this Godless Hell Hole are Curt, and Erik and Ann. I know for a fact Curt is off bangin' some cute little brunette, and Anne and Erik are at home taking care of their 9 week old baby. Which is exactly where they should be... All three of them... well.. 4 if you count the brunette... 5 if you count the baby...
Anyway...
I put the firearm away when I realized who it was... and I opened the door to find Ann and Erik. These to people, who hate to leave their house, have taken the time to come over and give me a case of Corona. All because I happened to be born on this particular date in 1973.
These two had lots of better things to be doing. Erik has a 30 hour shift tomarrow... and this was Ann's first day back after maternity leave... Still they took the time to go out and buy me some Corona, stop by, and say, "howdy".
So... I hoist one to Ann and Erik. And well... To Curt too. Cause Hell... Were the rolls reversed, I'd be doing the same thing.
As Jamie might say....
Cheers Mates!
Inspiration
The recent assault from our nameless friend has me thinking of a song I'm ashamed to love...
Well I walked up to the bar
I laid down my platinum card
Then I ordered fifty longnecks for my new friends
Well the barmaid passed them out
And before we chugged them down
I held mine up and Said here's to us and them
Well this blonde slid up to me
Said that was awful sweet
Then I saw her boyfriend As wide as he was tall
Well he broke up our hug
With a six foot, five inch shove
And I found myself slammed up Against the wall
Why does everybody want
To kick my ass
I'm just trying to have a little fun
For all the ones who can't
And just because I kiss the prettiest girls
And I drive my truck to fast
Why does everybody want
To kick my ass?
To John and Big Kenny... My sincere thanks.
The recent assault from our nameless friend has me thinking of a song I'm ashamed to love...
Well I walked up to the bar
I laid down my platinum card
Then I ordered fifty longnecks for my new friends
Well the barmaid passed them out
And before we chugged them down
I held mine up and Said here's to us and them
Well this blonde slid up to me
Said that was awful sweet
Then I saw her boyfriend As wide as he was tall
Well he broke up our hug
With a six foot, five inch shove
And I found myself slammed up Against the wall
Why does everybody want
To kick my ass
I'm just trying to have a little fun
For all the ones who can't
And just because I kiss the prettiest girls
And I drive my truck to fast
Why does everybody want
To kick my ass?
To John and Big Kenny... My sincere thanks.
Neyland Nightmare
Coach Bill Curry recalls a visit to Neyland Stadium.
I stood in the bowels of Neyland Stadium with our Georgia Tech football team as we waited to take the field in 1983. We had played very well there two years earlier, losing a tight game in the closing minutes. In 1982 our struggling program had taken its first giant step to recovery with a win over Tennessee in Atlanta and in my mind this game was to be the next quantum leap for us.
It was a misty day with an eerie quality and poor light in the tunnel, obscured from the field as we were by a gaggle of dignitaries. They were to be introduced in a ceremony of some sort. In those days we were a favorite homecoming opponent, so maybe that was what was going on.
I heard the raucous crowd go silent at length, after which a raspy voice began to speak in reverent tones on the stadium's public address system. "That's a strange voice. What on Earth is he doing?" I wondered aloud. The security man standing with me leaned over and whispered loudly, "That's Reggie. He prays, too."
I struggled with that for several seconds until reality struck with a cold chill. Reggie White, the Minister of Defense, was praying with his crowd. I sensed we were in trouble. Not only could the future NFL Hall of Fame defensive end destroy offenses, he could invoke the assistance of the Almighty, doing so in a way that would inspire his team and the huge crowd. However all that works, it was effective for the Vols that day as White dominated before, during, and after the game.
Beware the spirits, holy or otherwise in that Neyland place!
Coach Bill Curry recalls a visit to Neyland Stadium.
I stood in the bowels of Neyland Stadium with our Georgia Tech football team as we waited to take the field in 1983. We had played very well there two years earlier, losing a tight game in the closing minutes. In 1982 our struggling program had taken its first giant step to recovery with a win over Tennessee in Atlanta and in my mind this game was to be the next quantum leap for us.
It was a misty day with an eerie quality and poor light in the tunnel, obscured from the field as we were by a gaggle of dignitaries. They were to be introduced in a ceremony of some sort. In those days we were a favorite homecoming opponent, so maybe that was what was going on.
I heard the raucous crowd go silent at length, after which a raspy voice began to speak in reverent tones on the stadium's public address system. "That's a strange voice. What on Earth is he doing?" I wondered aloud. The security man standing with me leaned over and whispered loudly, "That's Reggie. He prays, too."
I struggled with that for several seconds until reality struck with a cold chill. Reggie White, the Minister of Defense, was praying with his crowd. I sensed we were in trouble. Not only could the future NFL Hall of Fame defensive end destroy offenses, he could invoke the assistance of the Almighty, doing so in a way that would inspire his team and the huge crowd. However all that works, it was effective for the Vols that day as White dominated before, during, and after the game.
Beware the spirits, holy or otherwise in that Neyland place!
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