The Blasted Desk

Well, suffice to say for now... the stupid thing's finally finished.



I'm only passingly fond of it but at least the door works...

Dumb All Over

Ah, I kept meaning to find a copy of this song on the old internet but I'll do one better. Here's someone's very apropos video for the song.

Oh, and the song is "Dumb All Over" by Frank Zappa from 1981. Listen to the words. Funny how appropriate it is after 25 years. Maybe things haven't changed all that much (or at all) in 25 years.

Double Oh, ignore the first 2 seconds of the video. The maker isn't... well, very friendly towards... well, it'll be obvious.

Why Bother? Randy's Response

In answer to my Why Bother? post, Randy offered an addendum. That addendum along with my response seemed like a fitting blog post in and of itself so here it is.

Randy Says (quite rightly):
You may disagree, but according to my worldview there is another purpose: Service to God. This service can take many forms. For a Christian, serving others is one way that you can serve God.

So I says(quite responsefully):

Randy,

You’re right; it’s the ‘service to God’ that I explicitly omit at the beginning of the entry. I agree that religion is THE quick and easy answer to all the nagging WHY questions. You’ll probably completely fail to believe that I actually considered religion as an answer to this quandary for myself. (Really really.) There are only several reasons why I rejected it though:

1. Which Religion to Pick? Yeah, I know, from the safe and secure harbor of a religion it’s preposterous to think that anyone could possibly have any doubt about what religion was appropriate for others. From your viewpoint as a Christian, I’m sure the answers to that are all sewn up tight. Of course the ONLY reasonable route to go would be (drum roll please): Christian! But see from the outside it’s not that easy.
   
   I know that Christians have a process whereby they ‘shop’ for churches that match their personal beliefs and that makes good, logical sense. Luckily, the field of Christian candidates is comparatively small though so you don’t have to hunt wide and far to find a decent fit. Shopping for religion in a broader sense is a much harder thing though. There’s a lot of room between Quaker and Devil Worshiper so there are a lot of variables to consider. Not the least of which is finding a religion with a local branch office and hours that are compatible with your lifestyle.
2. Overhead. If there’s one thread that recurs throughout my blog posts it’s that of the skeptic. Despite all humanity’s best efforts, I can never accept the metaphysical overhead that’s inherent in the major world religions. I’ll buy almost everything you have to sell up to a very precise point.
   
   Should we follow a standard and fair code of laws? Damn right!
   
   Should we respect each other and ourselves as much as possible? Of course!
   
   Is the Bible a good example of a set of laws by which we should live our lives? Well, not the Old Testament at least. Those people were jerks.
   
   Should we try to live up to the example of Christ and be as much like him as possible. Better than using the average NBA player as your role model.
   
   Is a benevolent and forgiving (or wrathful and generally pissed off) God looking down on us waiting to smite us or elevate us based on our actions and beliefs? Here, of course, is where it all begins to fall apart for me. Sure, there’s a single binding and all-encompassing force that rules the universe. Yeah, you heard me. I said it. It’s called the Laws of Physics. No, I don’t mean the Laws as Man writes them. Those are the shallow interpretations of the Real Laws as seen from our dustmite-like existence. No, I mean the REAL rules. The rules that all infinite Cosmos follows in its day-to-day business. In it’s dispassionate, detached, unemotional day-to-day business. It’s day-to-day business in which a man is no more important than a microbe. That’s the really terrifying part of my belief system. In my church, the universe cares not for you any more than it does the cow you ate for dinner. Your existence or lack thereof is balanced on the head of a pin and the only thing between you and oblivion is your own ability to stay alive. Sometimes that means fighting off a cold and sometimes that means playing nice with the other commuters so they don’t snap and shoot you as you drive down the freeway.
3. Hypocrisy. Lastly, I can’t adopt any mainstream religion at this point because, simply, it would be hypocritical. I’ve said very publicly for quite a while to anyone who would listen that the metaphysical aspects of religion make no sense whatsoever. There’s on new evidence on that front so to simply ‘change my mind’ on the subject would be the act of a hypocrite. I’d be very obviously letting myself hold a different opinion just for the sake of convenience. If there is a greater, judging power to the universe then I would expect such internal inconsistency to be one of the most mortal of sins.

So yes, Randy, I agree that for many people (heck, for 90% of the planet) there is a greater purpose than anything I’ve outlined. Despite your differences, most of you agree that any worldly concerns are trivial when compared to your service to God. Unfortunately, God isn’t exactly here for us to peel grapes for so in most cases ‘Service to God’ seems to boil down to either ‘Service to Humanity’ (My #1) or ‘Service to Church’ (God’s representatives on Earth). Service to Humanity I can live with but Churches, despite all their generally good intentions, are still just people. At their best, they serve as a conduit to help others and at their worst they simply help themselves to your money. So in the end, even ‘Service to God’ seems to boil down to ‘Service to Humanity’.

Why Bother?

As I sat downstairs trying to read over the din of my own thoughts I was struck hard in the face by the usual question: Why Bother to actually do anything? Why not just sit and stare at the TV or perhaps go to bed early. It made me realize that I’ve not properly laid out the reasons in my mind for actually doing any of the things I do. It seems as good a time as any since my internal dialog apparently intent on drowning out whatever it was Dickens had to relate this evening.

It would seem there is a finite and indeed VERY short list of ultimate motivations for anything a person can do. I’ll list them in order of importance as I see them and ignore (as usual) any items related to personal mythologies.

1. Service to humanity, community or the universe in general. I’ll admit that I’m pretty sure that nothing I’ve ever done has touched this level. Not that I’m against that mind you but my personal sphere of influence on this planet is just about three people and those only because I tend to control their breakfasts.
2. Service to family, friends and your genetic progeny. Almost everyone does this. Every time you wipe your child’s nose, you get credit in this category. Humans are very attached to their children; probably because they’re just so darn cute.
3. Service to self. We all REALLY do this. Every time you buy yourself a new tie or shave or study for that big algebra final so you can get a good job when you get out of college you’re dancing in three-land.
4. Merely passing the time. Every single episode of Seinfeld you’ve ever watched… yup, it’s in this basement category.
5. Negative crap. This is all the stuff you do to the detriment of humanity, family, friends and yourself. Hopefully this is kept to a minimum.

Okay, so there you have it. Everything I’ve ever done falls into one of those categories. It’s almost sad to think that human endeavor is so easily reducible to just a trivial handful of basic motivations. Now, for part two of our exercise, let’s go through the items that suck time out of my life and assign them to a category. This is sure to be ultimately depressing… In general order of total time consumed…

1. Work. Clearly a 2. It should be obvious that most people (myself included) wouldn’t work merely for the joys of working. But, we all do it so that our families will have the stuff they want. If it were just me kicking around here, I’d have a much less lucrative position involving some topic of greater interest if not greater importance.
2. Clean house, take care of kids, etc. Again, this is clearly a 2. In fact, so clearly that it’s stupid to say anything else about it.
3. Reading those damn books. I’ve tried without success to take what is a type-3 activity and promote it to something that’s actually useful. My wife has long ago tired of my random anecdotes from whatever crap I happen to be reading. I’ve even gone so far as to try to write up summaries and share some of these random tidbits online. Sadly, the results are too dull even for me to read over again. One can’t properly summarize a book without in fact writing a book of your own it would seem. (Damn the incompressibility of human knowledge.) My summary of Genesis is actually LONGER than Genesis.
   
   One could even argue that this is not even a proper type-3 activity. While it may entertain me personally, it does nothing to improve me in the eyes of society. By the standards of my contemporaries I’m already far too filled up with irrelevant information to be approachable and my conversation is amusing but only in the same sense that Napoleon Dynamite is amusing.
4. Studying… well, stuff. Over the past few years I’ve studied a lot of crap. The mathematics phase wore off about a year ago and since then it’s been languages. Much like reading those damn books though, this is only a self-serving activity. While it may entertain me, it only deepens the gulf of my geekishness.
5. Woodworking. In woodworking, the most normal of my activities, I find a brief reprieve from weird. I can also promote this to a happy type-2 activity as well since the vast majority of my productions have been for those yahoos who live downstairs. It is my hope that this at least will be my gift to my children and children’s children. They’ll have something to remember their great-grandfather for. Now see, that’s happy and uplifting now isn’t it?
6. Write on this blog thing. Of all my activities, this is probably the one I understand the least. Its use is inconsistent and slides from soul-searching (but generally uninteresting) posts like this one to dead boring tidbits about random factual topics. In a way, it’s my vague and sad attempt to do something, anything, for the world in general. Unfortunately, my voice is too soft and my soliloquy to sleepy for anyone to notice. I am like a stone dropped into a raging rapid. But really, isn’t everyone?

And I think that’s it. That’s pretty much what I do. It’s sad to think that an entire person, the endeavors of a human soul, can be summed up so succinctly and tidily.

So what do you do?

Real Spells. Real Fun. Placenta Pregnancy Delay Spell

Today’s spell from "The Element Encyclopedia of 5000 Spells. The Ultimate Reference Book for the Magical Arts."

[My comments in square brackets.]

** Spell Begins

Placenta Pregnancy Delay Spell – Hills and Valleys

Many contraceptive spells are cooperative ones between a man and a woman, with much of the action [or more likely INaction] traditionally performed by the father, as with this Cherokee ritual. If the father is unavailable or unable to do this, someone else may be delegated by the mother to perform the spell. This spell is intended to prevent pregnancy following too quickly upon the heels of a birth. The spell must be cast immediately following that first birth.

1. Carry the placenta, with respect and reverence [meaning: at arms length as far from the face as possible], far from home. [preferably to the home of your in-laws]
2. Ideally several hills are crossed, with each hill representing another year before a new baby is born. (If there are no hills, designate and articulate other landmarks as substitutes.) [how convenient] Consider how many hills to cross. [you’ll have plenty of time to think as you walk around with this rotting placenta in your arms]
3. When the proper destination has been found, the placenta is buried in Earth.

** Spell Ends

Alright, well as grotesque as this spell is, I can see some truth hiding here. I’m pretty sure that if I walked around carrying a placenta that my wife wouldn’t want anything to do with me for a while either.

Real Spells. Real Fun. Trap-A-Vampire

Here we go... just in time for the Holidays, it's the spell I know you'll all need tomorrow.
[My Comments in square brackets. See yesterday's post for the back story on this.]

** Spell Begins
Trap-A-Vampire Spell

Vampires, like genies, may be trapped in bottles. Choose a glass or metal bottle; presumably the vampire can bite through a plastic one. This spell works on the same principle as a fly-trap. [Whoa now, slow down a minute. Presumably? I'm here bottling the undead and you're hitting me with your 'presumptions' about the equipment? You'd best have this all properly planned out before I go tracking down Nosferatu. It's crap instructions like these that get people eaten alive.]

1. Place some kind of food the vampire likes inside the bottle, but not blood. [And how, exactly, am I supposed to ascertain this little nugget of information? Shall I ask? Perhaps present him with a menu? It's a vampire. All it friggin' EATS is blood. Jeeze.]
This spell works on a vampire who is understood to have once been a regular person with predilections for human food. [Oh, so a former human then. Aren't MOST vampires supposed to be former humans? And last I checked, most HUMANS have a natural taste for HUMAN food. It's pretty natural. Dogs... Dog Food... yeah, see how that works?]
Find something particularly tempting and put it in the bottle. [... and then prepare to die. So yeah, figure out what ELSE the vampire might like to eat besides human blood and put in the bottle. Damn! That's so simple. Sure hope 'ole Dracula had a taste for food small enough to FIT into a stinkin' bottle. Somehow I'd feel more comfortable with a box, a stick and a few feet of string. At least you can FIT a meal into a Wile-E-Coyote style box trap.]

2. You will know when the vampire is in the bottle when you observe a bit of straw of fluff within. [Assuming, of course, that you cleaned out the bottle in the first place. You'd sure hate to mistake a bit of belly button lint for the undead. Imagine your embarrassment.] Seal the bottle up securely. [After you've snuck up on bottle so the lint can't see you, plug the top with some of that watermelon you couldn't fit into the bottle in the first place.]

3. The bottle and the vampire may be destroyed by throwing the sealed bottle into a fire. [Crap. But then I'll lose my 5 cent deposit. Screw it, those villagers can just watch out for themselves.]

** Spell Ends

It's exactly this reason that it's EXTREMELY important to keep track of all your friend's favorite foods. You never know when you may need to tempt them into a bottle and trap them.

Tomorrow's Spell: Placenta Pregnancy Delay Spell

Real Spells. Real Fun. Beef Tongue Court Case Spell

Alright, so I was at the bookstore and I saw this fun looking book called "The Element Encyclopedia of 5000 Spells. The Ultimate Reference Book for the Magical Arts." Now I don't even HAVE to pick this thing up and look through it. It's a done deal. This book is SOLD. I figure there are two possibilities. Either:

A. This is a real spell book and the people think they're really publishing magical spells to do... well, stuff.
B. This is a historical book talking about what crazy people used to do when they thought they were using magical spells to do... well, stuff.

In my opinion, this was a win-win scenario. Either way, there's big-mega-mystic fun to be had.

After thumbing through this a bit, I will admit that I'm not really 100% sure which way these people are going. It has a clear disclaimer on the back though:

"Any reader uses the spells entirely at their own risk and the author and publisher accept no liability if the spells to not have their desired effector if adverse effects are caused."

So yeah, this is serious business folks. Don't be trying this crap without a licensed witch or you may end up needing a witch... doctor... hey-HEY? Get it... witchd... oh hell, never mind.

Let's begin, let's open the 1105 page book to a random page... page 226...
[any commentary from me will be in square brackets]

** Spell Begins:

Beef Tongue Court Case Spell (I) The Basic Version

This spell is intended to provide legal victory.

1. Write the names of the judge, attorneys, adversaries, anyone who's involved in your case who may be perceived as your opponent or an ally of your opponent on individual slips of paper, about the size of the fortune in a fortune cookie. Each name gets its own piece of paper.
2. Using a sharp knife, cut slits into a beef tongue, one slit per paper. [Oh, I can see where THIS is going.]
3. Insert one name paper into each slit. [DAMN! I knew it!]
4. Sprinkle with cayenne pepper and vinegar. [and salt to taste]
5. Close the slits with pins and needles.
6. Wrap the tongue up and place it securely in your freezer for at least a year or until you're sure all danger has passed. [or until we have the technology to bring the tongue back to life and cure whatever killed the cow... last I checked though, there was no cure for slaughtering.]

** Spell Ends.

Um... yeah, good luck with that. I'm gonna recommend that after you're done screwing around with the dead cow lingus, maybe, I dunno, hire a lawyer?

Tomorrow's spell: Trap-A-Vampire!

Book Notes - Hays, Mary - Memoirs of Emma Courtney

I realized recently that I was reading but not remembering a whole hell of a lot. My internal summation of "Madame Bovary" boiled down a single sentence and the image of someone eating a lot of poison. While that's certainly efficient in terms of storage it certainly seems to miss the point. In an attempt to augment my tattered recollections I started taking handwritten notes in true luddite fashion. My notes hit the high points as I read through things and I'll read through the notes and extract the high points from those. It's the ultimate in compactification! (or compaction or compression if you prefer to be 'correct'... pfft...)

Since I started halfway through Emma Courtney I didn't make note of the plot (not to worry, it's a simple Plot 1g: Woman meets man, woman likes man, man can't marry woman because his uncle's will forbids it, woman marries other man, woman still wants first man.) I did make note of a few cool quotes and words I found amusing. Aren't you lucky to get them all without even having read the book?

splenetic - Basically, this just means spiteful but it's handy as it might make people think you admire their spleen if you use it on them.

"The ideas, associations and circumstances of each man are properly his own and it is a pernicious system that would lead us to require all men, however different their circumstances to act by a precise general rule." - William Godwin as quoted by Hayes.

captious - I DO so admire efficient words and this is one of them. A captious person is one who tends to stress the faults of a person or idea and constantly raise objections and argue. Much more evocative than the commonly used relative 'nitpicker'.

specious - Another example of a highly efficient adjective, a specious argument is one that has an outward appearance of truth but is really just a load of crap, similar to sophistry.

gallimaufy - yet another of the many words for a hodgepodge.

Baby Mountains of Majesty

It's now been two days. Two LONG days. Clearly, this baby is sick. Her countenance wouldn't betray the fact but the four dirty diapers in an hour are a pretty good hint. I'm officially tired of cleaning up baby upchuck and baby downchuck. It's high time for some mental exercise. Well... as close as one can get to mental exercise... you see, my life is pretty dull and I bet yours is too.

I think the assumption society makes is that there are two parts to a person's life and that those parts play completely opposite roles. Person goes to work, does stuff, thinks, comes home, sits, does nothing, relaxes (or plays in some way). The work part is supposed to be hard and the not-work part is supposed to be easy and relaxing. After work is time for refueling, 'sharpening the saw' as the Covey people say. But I'm completely not buying that. It seems apparent that most people are a LOT smarter than their jobs. My wife goes to work and does pretty much the same mundane thing year after year. Her actual job isn't mentally stimulating that I can tell. She's not pressing any new neurons into service as she putters through each day because of her job duties. The things that really get her going are completely contrived and unrelated to her work. I have to wonder how many other people are in similar situations.

For my part, my job is immutably dull. The main crux of what I do is to pump out website after website that is 90% the same as the proceeding one with as much efficiency as possible. Every morning I get up and once again it's "time to make the donuts" to use a now archaic phrase. Like my wife, the entertaining things are the ones I take it upon myself to just DO because they need to be done. My boss scratches his head at me when I take special pains to attend some vague "Planning Meeting" like I'm some sort of tech-head droid that's run amok. Why the hell would a technical person want to go to a meeting? Isn't that against the geek law? I think that technically it may be but honestly the technical questions are really too easy. The real nasty thought-provoking questions are much more complicated. They involve people. Damn. Can't get much more complicated than that. People add a simply delightful level of complexity to life that one misses if one's head is bent over a computer screen for too long.

I realized recently that I'd been programming for 20 years. 20 years. I'm pretty sure that aside from basic biological functions I've not been doing anything else for that long. I've long ago given up every hobby that old. My first computer was a "Color Computer 2" and while I'll admit I had one game for the thing the BEST part was the "operating system." Now those were the days:

10 BEGIN
20 PRINT "HI!"
30 END

Or if you were a daring self-assured sort:

1 BEGIN
2 PRINT "HI!"
3 END

Yeah, those were some great times. Wonder if I have any of those old tapes. Somewhere there's a Bananarama tape with 90 seconds of *SCREECH* *SCRAW* *EEEEACK* recorded over the beginning that was a damn cool program.

So yeah, after 20 years, a lot of the mystery has gone out of the old programming experience. Guess I'll go type up those book notes from the other day and get back to the old Greek. Nothing like studying a language that on the surface makes absolutely NO sense to keep the wheels turning.

Your Personal Screwtape

"What in one instance might be a vice, in another may possibly become a virtue. A thousand imperceptible, evanescent shadings modify every thought, every motive, every action of our lives - no one can estimate the sensations or, can form an exact judgment for another."

I avoid the inside of gas stations. I'm always appalled when I go into these places because invariably there’s at least one caricature from society to be dealt with. In this part of the country it’s generally the “Birthed Five but Mother to None.” She has disheveled hair, a dirty shirt, the very epitome of slatternly squalor from head to foot. Her child is similarly attired (if in fact attired at all) and wandering off in any available direction without so much as a nod from its “parent.” Typically she’s walked there from some nearby apartment to spend $50 on the staples or her life: lottery tickets and cigarettes. The stertorous, tortured rasping that passes for her breath echoes through the store proving that this isn’t her first encounter with Raleigh’s “gift” to humanity.

It is only with the utmost willpower that I manage to put aside my decidedly procrustean prejudices and dream that it’s just POSSIBLE that there’s some perfectly legitimate reason that this woman is in the state she’s in. From my decidedly affluent position in society, it’s difficult to imagine a circumstance in which I would allow myself to appear to the world in such an unflattering light. How can this woman respect herself at all in such a state? Doesn’t she realize that the reason she’s in this position in the first place may have to do with her day-to-day choices?

The answer is that of course she knows. She knows she’s not going to win the lottery but to her it’s the only hope. The only chance she has to extract herself from the mire of her own ignorance and poverty is to be that one lucky person in a million. To her, the choice is simple. She HAS to buy the lottery tickets because without those, there’s nothing. That’s ALL there is. The State certainly doesn’t help the situation as it speaks from both sides of its mouth. On one hand, the ads say “Buy Lottery Tickets! You’ll win a LOT of money!!” with big flashing lights but in small print encourage you to “Play Responsibly.” When you live in filth on minimum wage playing at all is automatically irresponsible. Yet the State continues to tax the hopes and dreams of those who can least afford it. It is an irresponsible society that taunts its lowest earners into giving up what little they have for an evanescent hope of wealth.

But does she not realize that by smoking she’s not only throwing away her money but her health? Again, of course she does. The tocsins of death have been ringing in her head for years as she wakes up coughing and breathless in the middle of the night. No smoker is unaware of the quag into which they wander when they continue to smoke. There is no paucity of warnings; any pretence to ignorance is obvious affectation. They knowingly and willingly throw their resources and health into the abyss because the twin demons of habit and dependence force them to. Smokers are slaves to their habit; what is once picked up is not so easily put aside.

While we do not all share the same vices, we each have our own that stand in stead of this woman’s. She dreams to be rich and does what she thinks needs be done to make it so. My hopeless dreams are no less lunacy than hers. I service them in my own way and feed them as much if not more than she. I too have my bottomless abyss to feed.

Dare I ask, lest your demons become my own, what masters you serve, dear reader?

Roll Call

Alright, brace yourselves. For those with delicate mental conditions I urge you to click "Next Blog" now because this is going to be one HELL of a boring post. Yeah, you heard me. Just like a year ago when I told you about Mike. You know, that big thing that lives with me? This is going to be even more dull so I advise you to just move on before you fall asleep.

Since I was a wee lad I've always had this bizarre fascination with green, happy growing things. I'm not 100% sure why but I suspect that it's primarily a good healthy respect for the thought that a biological organism can take air, water, sunlight and trace soil nutrients and turn them into an entire tree. Ya gotta admit, that's pretty impressive.

Because of this good healthy respect, I've acquired quite a few of our good photosynthetic friends over the years and now seems a good time to call the current roll. It's sad that I don't have any pictures of Mike or Paul from their youth so I'm trying to avoid making the same mistake twice. Anyway, here goes.

Oh, before you ask, yes, each plant has a name and it's not merely because I'm completely insane and tend to towards anthropomorphizing things. There's a thin ribbon of logic in all cases between the plant and its given name. Sometimes it's a damn fine thread but it's there. Anyone who can guess the reason for even 10 out of the 16 plants' names wins a free lunch. Yeah, you heard me. Free lunch! but you'll have to come to Indy to collect it.

***
Yes, here we have the ever-miserable Parker. He's been around here for about 4 years. Given as a gift to my wife by one of her students as a mere tiny tendril...



Clearly the dry air of the house just doesn't agree with him.
***
Ever on the lookout for irony, the next three were salvaged from the funereal planters from my Uncle Don's funeral. That was about 3 years ago give or take.

There's Archie...


... and Felix...


... and finally Joseph.

Joseph, like Parker, is not a fan of the dry air inside.

***
At one point, my daughter was envious of Mike so she purchased and bought the next subject, Pointy.



***
Okay, more irony for the next eight. The Lowes here in Beech Grove has absolutely NO clue how to care for the houseplants they keep in stock. I'm relatively sure that NONE of them have ever been watered. If they don't sell within about 3 days they're dead as door knockers. Well, with one set of exceptions. Ironically, the plants most capable of surviving such neglect are on clearance at 75% off so I picked up these 8 at $.54 to $.75 each.

Jasper...


Rosa...


Erina...


Quinn...


Brock...


Florence...


Tiamat...


and lastly, Buddy.


***

And the last set of three miserable specimens was saved from a botanical research lab. Well, actually, my wife the science teacher was experimenting on them. Same diff really...

Ruben...


Amber...


and Stella.


***

Okay, that's finally it. This'll be so fun to look back on in a year when I realize I've chucked every one of these in the bin. Oh, and if you've actually made it this far, g'night! Rest well!

Funny Stuff....

You know... once you get around the fact that the protagonists of this little show are the better part of a happy meal, this show is ridiculously funny. I'm not really sure I understand why.

I guess it's probably just something about Carl. Though I'll admit that the whole broom thing is a bit over the top.

Happy Anniversary to Me...

Yesterday marked an anniversary of incredible importance. I haven’t been to work for a year and a day. No, I haven’t been loafing about on my wife’s salary for all that time. I’ve been working from home; doing the same job as before but not actually doing it from the office proper.

Some of the changes wrought by this are pretty obvious. Sure I don’t have to commute to work any more and availability of lunch is absolutely assured. I’ve got an IP phone from my workplace so as far as the technology knows I’m sitting right there in the office next to Larry, Darrel and Darrel as I did before. My job is amusingly identical to what it was before: I have the same customers, do the same work, get annoyed about the same things and still bring home a paycheck. The ease with which this all happened is somewhat eerie to look back upon.

A few things, however, were more difficult to anticipate. Now I’ll admit that while I was in the office I was NOT the life of any party because frankly I don’t really understand parties and least of all office parties. I’m also pretty shitty at random office chit-chat as well so it’s really surprising that I would miss it. I consider myself an utter misanthrope but when it comes down to it I do (for some completely impractical reason) value the random inputs of other people no matter how bad I may be at metabolizing them. Even the most inane conversation was a welcome addition to my average day. This was not particularly noticeable until after I’d been away from the office for a few months and HAD no more random conversations. After a while I realized with a bit of a bump that I don’t really associate with anyone aside from my wife, her family and the people at work (plus or minus 1 or 2 previous co-workers who find their way into my life in some electronic medium or other). If you take away the people at work then I communicate with four different adults on a regular basis and three of them live in either this house or the one next door. That’s a terrifyingly small circle even for me. Clearly I need to go to a few more parties.

I also never thought I’d miss the drive but for some reason I do. When you commute for any period of time at all you learn the route with such clarity that most of your drive becomes a complete trance. It was during these moments of utter vehicular Zen that most of my blog entries came about. Without this ‘input from within’ my blog entries quickly deteriorated into vacuous personal garbage. I daresay even my work suffered as most of my truly inspired ideas originated in those 45 minutes of Zen coming home from work. Clearly I need to go to more parties where the guests all just stand around staring off into space.

All this said I’m more than compensated for any of these loses. Our laundry is ALWAYS done and our house has never been more secure from burglary since I’m here on guard an average of 23 hours and 50 minutes a day. I’ll simply keep replacing the background office babble with the droning of CNN and perhaps take up a nice redundant hobby to regain my Zen oneness of self… perhaps I’ll whittle myself a stand for this office phone of talk to these plants for an hour a day and explain to them our system of government.

The Bench... Take 3

Alright... well finally, it seems to be done. I've officially washed my hands of the mysteriously slippery bench project. I told my wife that I'd help her take it in the house and after that I was no longer involved. It is my hope that the bench she wanted looked at least a little bit like the bench she got:

Total price on this thing including a LOT more red paint than I will probably ever find a use for: $60.

The Boys...

Hey. Remember back... oh, two and a half years ago when I told you about Mike. Yeah, you know, Mike the Dracaena Marginata (Not, apparently Draco) plant who lives in my house. Anyway, it seems apparent that he's impossible to kill. He comes to mind as worth recording something about now since he recently came inside for the winter. At 7 feet tall and standing in our living room he comes to mind quite a bit.

So indeed, that's Mike. Now celebrating about 18 years in the family more or less. No way to be sure with my lousy recollections.

Now lest some other persons in the family get jealous it's probably wise if I also introduce Paul as well. Paul, like Mike, has been around for about 18 years and also started out in one of those tiny little 3-inch pots. Now Paul does me the grand favor of breaking his ever-growing pot about once a year.

This year when I brought him inside for the winter my wife was absolutely THRILLED to discover that a family of moles had burrowed their way into the pot and were actually LIVING in Paul's root ball. I'm pretty sure I'll never hear the end of that...

The Bench: Take 2

Well, it’s that time of year again; yes, that time of year when my wife asks for a bench and I somehow manage to build something else. See, the instructions were pretty simple this time. She asked for a bench… well, specifically, this bench. Simple enough, right? Well, apparently not.

All was going just swimmingly until one fateful night when she came out to the garage as I was working on the ‘bench’ and uttered those fateful words: “Man, this thing sure is big.” That, my politely quiet reader, was the beginning of the end. After a bit of quick checking it seems I’d completely hosed the dimensions on the desired bench. Yes, that’s right. The bench SHE wanted would fit very neatly and very precisely into the open space on my version. Indeed it was about 8 inches too tall. After the fact it was all very obvious but before the fact… well, no so.

At any rate, it now makes a pretty tidy… well, something. Not quite a window seat (unless you’re 7 foot 4) but not quite just a bookshelf. But it’s useful and was not an utter and complete waste of wood in any case. Just mostly.

Total cost of this project with wood, primer, and paint: $80.

The Bible - Genesis - Chapter 32: Jacob’s Fear of Esau

Leaving Laban, Jacob travels to the land of his brother Esau. Rightfully concerned that Esau might still be a bit miffed at him he takes a few precautions. Jacob sends messengers to Esau announcing his presence and indicating his status as a man with large flocks of both animals and servants. Disappointingly, the messengers return with word that Esau and 400 of his men (probably with brass knuckles) are on their way to meet him. For the first time in a while, Jacob turns to the Lord and utters a lengthy prayer to ask for protection against the mob and to remind God of his promises from Chapter 28. Still hedging his bets and doubting even God’s protection, Jacob divides his household so that half might escape if the other half is attached. To cover all possible bases he also sends a large gift of livestock to his brother.

Having made his preparations, Jacob is left alone to await his fate. According to the NASB, God (anthropomorphic as usual) comes to Jacob and they wrestle. After many hours of wrestling, God lets Jacob win and grants him his blessing. The JSB differs on this episode in almost every possible regard. It fails to identify the mysterious wrestler as anything but a ‘supernatural being’ and admits to no ‘blessing’ being received at the end of the contest; the stranger simply leaves. The two do agree in that the stranger gives Jacob a new name, ‘Israel’, and Jacob rejoices that he’s survived this contest and infers that his survival must indicate some sort of divine blessing.

Whichever the case, the idea that Jacob, this worm of a man, should receive the blessing of the Lord is appalling. His short history in Genesis shows him to be a devious, self-serving little weasel who only bothers to pray when he needs something. As usual, God’s chosen ones don’t exactly distinguish themselves positively from the people around them.

The Qur'an - Al-Fatihah: The Opening

This opening chapter is, according to the commentary, the very summation of the whole of Islam. It is only seven verses but amusingly results in four full pages of text in the notes. Since it is that important, I will quote the seven lines here:

1 Praise be to Allah, the Lord of the worlds,
2 The Beneficent, the Merciful,
3 Master of the day of Requital.
4 Thee do we serve and Thee do we beseech for help.
5 Guide us on the right path,
6 The path of those upon whom Thou has bestowed favours,
7 Not those upon whom wrath is brought down, nor those who go astray.

Verse 1: From the notes, the description of Allah as ‘Lord’ is not in the sense that we would use it. Instead it indicates Allah as one who nourishes his people until they attain perfection. This seems to parallel the ‘shepherd’ image sometimes used for Jesus. By ‘worlds’ we appear to mean the nations or people of the world (not just the Muslims.)

Verse 3: The word here translated as ‘day’ is actually one that refers to any indefinite period of time. The author indicates this is indicative of the ongoing judgment of man, punishment of evil and reward of goodness that goes on around us all the time. The Requital seems to parallel closely the ‘Judgment Day’ of Christian religion.

Verse 4: Through humility and obedience to God, the followers will receive divine assistance in their daily lives.

Verse 6: Later we are apparently told who has favors bestowed upon them: the prophets themselves, the righteous, the truthful and the faithful. It is my hope that these groups are actually defined more specifically later.

Verse 7: Don’t screw up or you may still go to hell. The notes here are revealing. Among those who ‘go astray’ are the Jews and the Christians: the Jews because they refuse to believe in Jesus as a prophet and the Christians because they elevate a prophet to the status of God. Muslims are warned to tread the middle path and do good works as well as keeping the doctrine free of any corruption.

The summary seems simple and familiar: I am the one true god; I am merciful and good. Beware for a day of judgment will befall you and you shall reap what you have sown in life. Simple enough.

Books While I was Dead

While I was dead recently I did take the opportunity to blow through a few random books from the ever-increasing book backlog. While I don’t have an ocean of words just pressing against the inside of my head waiting to get out in this vein I’d consider it a disservice to myself if I didn’t at least put down in some form my immediate thoughts on what I’ve recently tickled myself with.

The War of the Worlds, H. G. Wells - Over the years, I’ve read this tiny thing at least a dozen times and as usual, it lived up to my expectations though after this many readings it’s not nearly as dramatic as it was the first eleven times. Well worth missing an evening of network television for even if it was the 112th time.

Cousin Henry, Trollope - Yeah, I admit it, I’ve read a bit of Trollope. You don’t read Trollope for any of the good reasons you’re supposed to read things. You read Trollope because it’s just damn entertaining. In the literary world, this is the equivalent of the daytime soaps but the antiquated setting and verbiage makes it somehow much more satisfying. So yeah. I read Trollope. You wanna make somethin’ of it? On Cousin Henry specifically I’ll say that this is one of the best of Trollope’s works. I can still see the little worm sitting in the library staring at the book that holds the missing will. *sigh*

Brave New World, Huxley - Somehow in my upbringing I missed Huxley’s Brave New World. I’m honestly not sure how as it’s much more striking than Orwell’s 1984 so I regret the years I’ve lived without its influence. Well, without its direct influence anyway. I think we all suffer from it in a way as our world creeps ever closer to that of Huxley’s imaginings.

Alexander’s Bridge, Cather - One of the gifts and curses of having the pending reading queue right outside in the garage is the ability to grab any old thing at random and sit down and read it. Alexander’s Bridge was one of these cases but I’m hard pressed to determine whether this one was a gift or a curse. I’d categorize this as an OK first novel; it’s clearly better than my first novel.

The Riddle of the Sands, Childers - This little ditty was much more firmly entrenched in the ‘curse’ category. Written in 1903, this is purported to be one of the progenitors of the modern spy novel. Unfortunately, the plot was so laden down with nautical jargon, maps of sand bars and hopeless specifics that it was hard to keep one’s eyes open. Still, not a bad idea as plots go but filled with fluff.

Lady Audley’s Secret, Braddon - Did you ever read a book and have this creeping sense that you’d read it before? I still cannot identify WHEN I would have read this but when George Talboys disappears my mind went immediately to the well, even before it was mentioned. I must have been a warped child to have read such a thing long enough ago to have forgotten it so completely. At any rate, a pretty decent way to spend a couple days, especially if you don’t know about the deal with the well. Er… did I say well? I meant … storm at sea, yeah, he’s lost at sea. That’s it.

Gulliver’s Travels, Swift - For some reason this book reminds of Swiss Family Robinson. Well, actually, there’s at least one obvious reasons it might. There’s the whole shipwreck motif of course but in addition there’s this grand dichotomy of what the book REALLY is and what most people think of when you mention the book. With the Family Robinson people think of it as a ripping family adventure yarn but actually it’s a veiled religious diatribe and encyclopedia of misinformation on the botany and zoology of the tropics. Gulliver’s Travels conjures images of fantastic creatures and far-away lands for most people but if you actually read the thing it’s one long political cartoon. I will say that the book is clearly deserving of its status as a classic but it’s difficult to appreciate without knowing a bit about the political systems of the time to understand exactly who Swift is poking fun at in such a pointed manner. This gives one the idea what Doonesbury will be like in another 100 years when all the main characters are long dead and mostly forgotten.

The Natural, Malamud - Yeah, we’ve all seen the movie. Fortunately, it doesn’t really have a whole lot of similarity to the book. Poor Roy Hobbs … but what do you expect when you take a bribe and throw the game and there are only five pages left?

Soul of the Sword, O’Connell - Alright, at last some non-fiction you’re surely saying. O’Connell in his smallish tome traces the history of human weaponry from sticks to ICBMs. As an overview, it’s not bad and gives some interesting historical side notes but for my taste it lingers over long on the more modern side of things. It seems to spend half its contents blathering about the development of the gun and while I realize the gun is the single most important weapon in the history of civilization we needn’t have given it that much attention.

Gaskel, Cranford - This one is amusingly plot free but an interesting snapshot of life in Victorian (1837-1901) England.

The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, Sparks - Another random selection that was clearly more of a curse than a gift. Not a bad concept for a novel (teacher corrupts students into her servitude even into their adulthood) but somehow dull despite that. Oh well.

Dead or Alive

Recently I realized that it had been two solid months since I’d posted anything at all meaningful here. More correctly some would say that it’s been several years since I posted anything meaningful but let’s loosen our definition for the sake of current argument. Since that time, I’ve wandered my way through eight books and started a couple of others, had at least one annoying medical procedure and done countless other things that I’ve completely forgotten about, mostly because I’ve not written them down. It may be officially time to start this personal fad again.

I think I’ll resume the Bible and the Qur’an just for the halibut. I’ll repost those lost Qur’an entries from bygone days and just pick up with chapter 32 of Genesis. Hopefully the reading list won’t suffer unduly. Other projects include a reading-related attempt to remember some semi-random factoids such as the history of the British Monarchy and a few other key dates from history so forgive me if I randomly interject the occasional non sequitur of the form “Elizabeth I, 1558 through 1603” into every third post or so. I’m also thinking it might be good to be able to rattle off chapter and verse from a few key Bible passages. It seems a lot of effort though for little actual return though. At any rate, I’m awake again.

Oh! Since I’ve already forgotten, I’m also working on increasing my rather vacuous vocabulary. Primarily, it’s just to augment my alliterative abilities but do forgive me if I spend twenty minutes trying to find a way to fit the word denouement into the description of a Bible chapter or two… (Don’t you just love the specificity of some English words? Especially those we steal from other languages.)

The Qur'an - Introduction

The following entry represents my notes and observations as I read ‘The Holy Qur’an with English Translation and Commentary’ by Maulana Muhammed Ali. At times, the Qur’an is pointedly opinionated towards certain people and groups. I will repeat the Qur’an’s opinion as I understand it based on the text but in no way should this be construed as my own opinion about any group or individual. Any person who differs with my interpretation is invited to comment including specifics and I’ll be happy to reexamine the passage(s) at issue. Lastly and most importantly, none of the views herein expressed should be construed a criticism of the Qur’an or the Islamic faith. I hold both in the highest possible regard and it is because of this than I seek to know more about both.

Introduction

The introduction is almost 70 pages and as it spends most of it’s time trying to convince the reader of the superiority of Islam I will not attempt to annotate it in its entirety but instead summarize the ideas contained therein.

The Qur’an is divided into 114 chapters or surah (literally, a step in a structure or building). The entire text of the Qur’an was revealed to the prophet Muhammad over the period of 23 years and taken down in excruciating detail by his followers. The text was not simply dictated from beginning to end but piecemeal over that period of time and later arranged under the supervision of the prophet himself.

After the initial discussions of origin, the author goes on to describe the ultimate triumph of Islam over all other world religions and the unparalleled ‘civilizing’ effect it has had on the nations of the Middle East. He also points out that it is considered to be the very epitome of Arabic style and diction. All other Arabic literature is judged against the Qur’an from a literary standpoint and the author goes on to say that the Qur’an has single-handedly kept the language of Arabic alive throughout the centuries.

Most highly offensive to Christians, perhaps, the author states emphatically that the Qur’an contains a ‘corrected’ version of Biblical events. Based on the author’s interpretation, the Qur’an is the ‘Guardian’ of previous scriptures and gives a true representation of the events which the Bible describes. It openly acknowledges that other prophets were sent by God (including Jesus) but states that their message has been corrupted by the man.

On the topics of Heaven and Hell, the Qur’an seems to parallel classical Christian belief. Heaven as described by the author is not an end, however, as Christianity might have you believe. Apparently there’s work to be done in Heaven and the Lord will keep you busy once you arrive. Also contrary to Christian belief, Hell is not eternal. Hell is intended to prepare the soul for the work of Allah and as such does not last forever. After an appropriate period even the most evil of souls are elevated to Heavenly status. Lastly on this point comes the concept that Heaven and Hell do not merely begin at the time of death. Those who do good reap the benefits of that good while still on this Earth as much as those who do evil.

The introduction also touches on the position of women in society. The author’s interpretation puts women on an equal footing with men with the only restriction being that women and men should ‘restrain their sexual passions.’ Also contrary to popular belief, polygamy is only allowed in the case of widows. In an area of the world often torn by war, this is more of a practical measure than a religious one.

The last section of the introduction describes the oral tradition and those among the prophets entourage who had memorized the entire text of the Qur’an from beginning to end. It is believed that the exact text has been preserved word for word since it was first penned 1400 years ago.

Project: Twin Toy Chests

Well, the first woodworking project since that ‘build me a bench’ fiasco of ’01 is finally complete. The result is a set of twin mini toy chests. Outside dimensions: 18” x 20” x 13.5”. Those measurements were dictated by the size if the extra lumber I had laying around more than any esthetic reason. Sides and top are joined by some VERY uneven rabbet joints and overall the project amounts to two VERY heavy but VERY sturdy hinge-lidded boxes. Kathy plans to finish these with some high-gloss white paint and add a cushion to the top so they can double as extra guest seating when the leprosy clears up in the house and the department of health allows us to have guests again.

Total cost of this project including tools, lumber and hardware: $890. Luckily, I get to keep the tools. Overall, this is almost a good trade for most of the guts of my coin collection. I will say that even though in relative terms this is a very simple project it was a good learning experience. Clearly I need to exercise a bit more patience in some areas but the fact that the wife isn’t revolted beyond sensible words indicates my results were not totally outlandish.

Genesis - Chapter 8

Wow... looking back, I amuse myself. This almost inspires me to start reading this book again... alright, more than almost.

Chapter 8: The Flood Subsides

After the rain, God suddenly remembered Noah and his animals and passes a wind across the Earth to counteract all that water. The water steadily decreases and five months after all this started, the ark comes to rest in a mountain range in the area of Ararat. Contrary to popular belief, there is no Mount Ararat, the name refers to the ancient country Uratu now occupied by Turkey, Iraq, Armenia and Iran. Three months after it comes to rest in the mountains, the tops of the mountains became visible.

After 40 days, Noah opened the window and sent forth the raven. It “flew here and there until the water was dried up from the earth.” Considering that’s months away, it’s a pretty impressive feat of endurance. He then sends out a dove but it returned as it found no place to land. Noah waited another seven days and sent out the dove again; this time it returned with a fresh olive leaf in its beak. This is surprising given that no olive tree could survive several months under water. Further, the common olive (Olea europaea) can take several months to germinate even in the most optimal circumstances. Add to this the fact that the olive is not a mountain-dwelling plant so the waters must have receded at an incredible pace for there to be an olive leaf available even if it plucked a new sapling tree from the ground.

Noah waited another seven days and sent the dove again. This time it did not return. Deciding after very nearly a year in the ark that it was safe to come out, Noah removes the covering of the ark and at exactly a year from the time they entered the ark the earth is declared dry again. God speaks to Noah and tells him to get out of the ark and bring all the animals forth to repopulate the earth. This is, of course, impossible. Two individuals from a species cannot repopulate the earth for very specific genetic reasons.

After bringing out the animals, Noah builds an altar to the Lord. Then he takes some the extra “clean” animals that the lord commanded him to save in chapter seven, slit their throats and burned their corpses on the altar as an offering to God. It’s funny, I never heard about any of that in Sunday school or those made-for-TV-movies about Genesis. If a person did this today, they would be thrown in jail or burned as a witch. This is exactly the sort of behavior that modern society ascribes to devil-worshipers. God “smelled the soothing aroma” and promised to never again curse the ground because of the acts of man. He goes on to say that “the intent of man’s heart is evil from his youth.”

Frankly, I’m appalled at this chapter. Noah murders animals and burns their corpses and God looks on in apparent glee. Further, he goes on to say directly that man, who he created, is evil from his first days on earth. Any entity that looks at a baby and sees evil yet rejoices in the smell of burning corpses is, frankly, sick. Luckily, for the people who subscribe to this doctrine, all this has been revised and expunged from popular perception of the Bible.

The Next Big … Struggle

It should be noted that the following Blog entry is more for my internal reference than for anyone to actually READ it. I like to keep track of the various meanderings that my mind takes but from your perspective it’s of no interest whatsoever. So, read if you like but don’t feel obligated to and don’t say I didn’t warn you.

On June 11^th, I declared the 5 big goals of the moment: learn Spanish, write this Blog, do something with the coin collection, finish the Bible and get the outside landscaping done and garage properly cleaned up and organized.

As I open on August 1^st, I find a few updates are in order. The Spanish goal is officially dead. After four books, 1000 new additions to my Spanish vocabulary and scores of hours spent on this I return to the fact that there wasn’t any real point to this in the first place. Even if I were completely fluent I’m not sure what I would actually do with this skill. More realistic levels of proficiency leave me only the option of watching REALLY poor quality Spanish television of reading classic Spanish literature for which more accurate English translations already exist.

The Blog goal has foundered somewhat but since I’m writing it now it must not be completely dead. My posts have hovered around a somewhat more pictorial style due to a still-valid theory that the commonplace, everyday visuals of our lives all too soon pass out of the sight of our minds eye. This still strikes me as a valuable, though boring to witness, record-keeping system for the mundane bits of one’s life.

The third item on the list is an item of no small contention. The coin collection represents for me the last example of my urge to collect, to grasp onto meaningless material goods. Starting on the 28^th of June, I loosened my grasp by beginning the process of eBaying the whole stinking mess. From a purely numerical perspective, I’m a tiny fraction of the way through but from the standpoint of releasing the ‘suffering’ these coins represent I’m well on my way. The problem with any collection is that it’s a “sink” for resources. Sure, you may enjoy the collection but in the end, the only way to get more enjoyment from it is to contribute more resources to it. Collecting is an infinite spiral of suffering as you grasp for more and more and contribute more and more resources. All the while, you look back and see how much accumulated money you’ve spent and the waste that it represents. The only way to stop the suffering is to reclaim the squandered resources. Thanks to someone out there (you know who you are) who made this obvious truth… obvious.

Number four… ahhh, that illusive number four. The Bible, that most controversial yet most powerful document on the planet. After the past couple days, I find myself strangely motivated again to read this book but not for the reason anyone HOPES you read it. For the first time in a while, I was involved in an argument, an argument with a conservative. There is something eerily powerful about being able to argue with someone using their own source literature against them Well, at least until they claim that their Christian Faith doesn’t actually have its foundations in the Bible. When that happens one must just raise an eyebrow and walk away slowly…

The fifth goal represents… well, it represents a lot of things I’m really not all that great at. Goal number five in its most basic form consists of all the ‘manly’ household arts. The end of goal three has contributed greatly to the advancement of goal five since I now have the free capital to put together a pretty decent woodworking shop. And whereas collecting is a ‘sink’ of resources and energy, woodworking results in actual useful stuff from furniture to lots of miscellaneous items that can be used as Christmas gifts. As an endeavor, goal 5 contributes to the positive karma of the universe while goal 3 merely sucks karma out of the universe.

Unstated even in the June entry is the mystical goal six. Those who’ve been watching for a while will probably guess that this is the ‘reading list’. The Spanish goal effectively killed this goal but since the death of goal 1 I’ve blasted through ‘Brave New World’ and half of ‘Alexander’s Bridge’. Very entertaining pursuits in their own ways and very worth their own Blog entries… eventually.

To summarize, goal 1 is dead; it died a dreadful and pointless death under the weight of its own meaninglessness. Long may goal 1 be dead. Luckily, I have plenty of other goals to fill the void it leaves behind. I’m forced to wonder though… what are the rest of you people doing out there?

That time of year again

Yes... once again, it's that time of year we all wait for... it's Hibiscus time...

Para Jóvenes

According to the most accurate recollections available, today marks about two and a half months I’ve ben off trying to learn Spanish. Looking at the big pile of vocabulary flashcards on the desk I’ve added about 1,000 new words and phrases to my Spanish comprehension vocabulary and looking at the bookshelf I’ve ploughed through four books ranging from insultingly simple to amusing only because it was a pain in the ass to understand in the first place.

Despite all this pointless studying there is at least one interesting non-Spanish observation to be made here. I’m amazed at how much lower my intellectual standards are when I’m working outside my native tongue. If I’d been reading ‘Noche Oscura en Lima’ in English I would have never finished. Despite its brevity, its attempt at a mystery story is just too transparent to be interesting. But when you add to a sophomoric story the fact that half the words are incomprehensible nonsense, each a tiny puzzle to be solved, you somehow get a much more satisfying whole.

The same phenomenon can be applied, amusingly, to pop music. If this were in English, I’d dismiss it as crap immediately. Here, go listen. So, in English, automatic crap. It’s a given. In Spanish, I felt compelled to buy the CD. This song runs through my head endlessly. It’s insanity. Heck, I can only really understand enough of what they’re saying to get the general idea but for some reason the tune and those few comprehensible words just stick. I mean honestly, it’s not that good. But for some reason… it is.

Funny thing is though, that I still feel insulted by what I’m reading somehow. This weekend I found a book in Spanish that actually seemed like something I might actually want to read in English. So I got it home, took a peek at the dust jacket:

Nacida en la Perú, Isabel Allende se crió en Chile. Sus libros, <> encabezan la lista de bestsellers en varios paises del mundo entero. El Reino del Dragón de Oro, la continuación de La Ciudad de las Bestias, es su segunda novela para Jóvenes.

First of all, this is apparently a sequel. Well that’s a crap an a half. No matter, I can deal with that. But para Jóvenes… so I’m reading a CHILD’S book. Well, more properly a teenager’s probably. Most really young children don’t ready 411 page books but still. Momentarily, I felt like an idiot. Then I quickly remembered that I don’t actually KNOW Spanish and felt a little better about it. In any case, it’s hard to know if the text is actually entertaining or if it just the fact that I have to stop and look up every 10th or 20th word.

So… if you’re reading these words months from now and wondering aloud to yourself in a very schizophrenic way, “Where the hell’s Rob?” then just be assured that I’m reading some Spanish novel and scouring the Argentinean pop charts looking for the next great Spanish language pop phenom.

Another Random Photo...

So I was thinking to myself the other day, "Oh, most divinely Adonis-like Manifestation of all that is Pure and Holy in the world, what's the most mind-numbingly dull thing you could post online?"

Well, of course the obvious answer is another of those random photos from my domicile. Today's most delicious treat is a photo of the upstairs den or computer room. Ahhhh... I can taste that satisfaction swelling up as the internet distributes this incredibly interesting post...



Alright, you can click on the image to get a larger version. This is going to be so cool to look back at when I've quit caring about and sold all the crap in this picture...

See, look, there on the left. That big pointy green lump of a thing on the TV. That's a candle my wife got me in college. It's a wizard reading a book sitting on a dragon. And to the right of that there's a picture of our 1-year-old that the daycare got me for father's day this year.

Oh, yeah, and there on the shelves, you can see the binders and binders of coins and banknotes i'm going to sell at a snails pace over the next 20 years. Under those the coin catalogs I have on semi-permanent loan from the library. You can just make out a few Netflix DVDs on the top of the shelf there. Deep Space 9 for the wife and All Creatures Great and Small for me of course. And right next to the IP phone for my workplace you can make out a couple Mafalda books.

Now the desk, that's where all the REALLY boring stuff happens. I've got my computer on the left there with all the Peanuts gang hanging out on top and the laptop from work to the right. It's still on at 11 o'clock at night as I have to make a change to a customer website at 12. Isn't that EXCITING? There's that cool banker's lamp my wife's family got me while I was in college. And that white box in front of the monitor... yeah, that's all the really cool Spanish flash cards I've made up studying Spanish for no reason I can really put my finger on. There must be 700 of those stupid things in there. Let's see... anything else of disinterest... there's the new Beautiful South CD 'Superbi' on the printer. In the lower left-hand corner you can see all the drawers leftover from when the room used to house all those sports trading cards.

Wow, that IS dull. I should do this for a living.

More houscleaning...

Yes, it's time once again for more housecleaning.

So you know you want to... follow the link and go buy something...

The Measure of a Man

Earlier this week I passed a personal milestone. Yes, that’s right, I finally finished that book in Spanish that I told you about and then suddenly deleted all reference to. For the first time in a very long time, I’ve accomplished some tangible portion of one of my inane personal goals. This sort of thing hasn’t happened since years ago when I finally got my world banknote collection all nicely sorted out. Subsequently of course I’ve tried maddeningly to rid myself of that same collection but at least it was finished… for a while.

Banknote tangents aside, this Spanish thing brought me around to the usual depressing thoughts that accompany any of my rather arbitrary goals. The first is the usual ‘Why?’ which I covered at length in my ‘Empty Erudition’ post from April of this year. The question remains a valid one but one that I’m happy to ignore for the moment. The question that really bothers me is how one measures any of this. Obviously, slogging through an entire book in Spanish can’t be hurting my grasp of the language but is it really doing any good? Would I be better served to go sit in a Mexican restaurant at lunch hour or religiously read a few dozen Spanish blogs? I’m a simple man with simple needs and one of those needs is to have at my disposal a set of several thousand real-time metrics that measure my mental acuity in a multitude of subject areas.

It is ironic that for all of mankind’s efforts to measure, quantify and explain the universe around him, his own mind is almost completely unknown to him. Mankind has absolutely no reliable tools to assess the human mind… well, except for one. More on that later. In general, people believe that tests exist which will plumb the depths of human knowledge. The SAT, IQ Tests and a myriad of others attempt to determine exactly what you know and reduce your knowledge to a simple integer value but despite all the hubbub and the allure of such tests, they’re nothing more than humbug.

Take the SAT as an example; it measures mathematical and verbal skills for students heading for a University education. Its testing base is relatively broad and is widely accepted as THE test to take if you’re going on for more education after High School. The problem with this is that people cheat the system. They don’t write the answers on their arms but they study materials directly related to the content of the test. In any bookstore you can find a plethora of books whose sole purpose is to help you improve your SAT scores. Worse than that, many schools focus their curricula on the content of standardized tests. Because of all this outside influence on the minds being tested, these tests aren’t a measure of your aptitude so much as a measure of your ability to buy and study a book. It has always been my decided opinion that studying for any test is a form of cheating. The test was intended to measure what you learned or what you know, not your ability to cram a litany of facts into your short-term memory. This is as true of the SAT as it is of the final exam in Mr. Shilling’s calculus class.

As a supplement and formalization of the testing procedure that society uses to measure our intellects we now have hundreds of certifications and degrees that are aimed at proving just how intelligent we are. In the computer trades especially, there is a wide range of tests and certifications designed to quantify technical intellect and reduce it to a three or four letter abbreviation. You can be an MCSE (Microsoft Certified Systems Engineer) or an OCP (Oracle Certified Professional) and for each of these esteemed positions there’s a test (or tests) and of course for each test there’s a big $50 book to study. Personally, I find these tests utterly laughable. All the really good engineers I know don’t bother with such certification and those who have them always seem to be the most intellectually vacuous. But yet this process is supposed to be the main basis by which we hire and promote people in the technology sector? Pish.

So a few hundred words back I mentioned a wonderful and objective tool that would help us to really measure our own intellect. Obviously from my previous ranting it’s not in the form of any test so what is it? Well, unfortunately, it’s complicated, it’s not objective but it is wonderful. The only tool anyone can use to estimate the breadth and depth of a person’s psyche is another human psyche. As humans, we’re REALLY good at assessing each other. We do it instantly without even trying. If I went up to a native speaker of Spanish and tried to address her in her native tongue she’d be able to tell me more about my level of skill in 10 seconds than hours and hours of standardized testing. The same goes for just about every facet of human knowledge plus or minus the much practiced art of ‘bullshit’ most commonly seen in job interviews and used car sales.

Ultimately though, even that tool does us little good. Brains are good at comparing but they lack good points of reference. I can say “I know more about calculus than Joe” and Joe can say “Rob knows more about calculus than I do” but that’s about it. Without any absolute measure of intelligence we both run the risk of being total idiots relative to someone who really knows what they’re talking about. Beyond meaningless relativistic measures of intelligence with no grounding in anything strictly quantifiable the problem is completely insolvable. I suppose I’ll have to be content in the knowledge that my Spanish is at least better than the local car dealer who proudly displays the sign:

“Seablamos hespañol.”

But yet probably worse than the average Madrid-born 6th grader’s. C’est la vie. Crap. Wait, that’s not even Spanish. Hrmph.

The Luddite Speaks

Indeed it has finally happened. Well, actually it happened years ago, but now seemed a good time to complain about it. I’ve officially had it with having access to all human knowledge. Yeah, you heard me. I’m completely sick and tired of the fact that I can hop onto Google right now and in a few keystrokes find the answer to any conceivable question or more likely, three or four answers.

Boy, I remember those halcyon days of pristine uncertainty and ignorance in the 70s and 80s. Sometimes you’d hear a song on the radio and you’d walk around for weeks not knowing who the artist was, just waiting on the off chance that they’d play the song again or you’d run into somebody who knew what record the song was on. But now, the fun of ignorance, the anticipation of resolution, and the jubilance of discovery have all vanished. Any idiot with a computer can tell you the atomic weight of lead or why ‘Pounds’ is abbreviated ‘lbs.’ The value of smart people in this planet has diminished almost to nil. Time was, I got 2 or 3 calls a week from people asking about the solubility of sodium at 45 degrees Celsius or some other obscure bit of forgotten lore but now I’m lucky if anyone calls at all. And when they do they don’t seem to give a damn about anything of real interest. It’s hardly worth the effort to know anything at all. I might as well watch TV.

While we’re on the subject of things I’m sick of, let me tell you what else I could do without. I’ve had enough of ‘Undo.’ It’s about time people in this country started taking responsibility for their mistakes. From now on, when I make a typing mistake I’m going to just cross it out and go on, none of this fancy ‘backspace’ crap. Better yet, I’ll just close the whole document and start over. That’s real moral responsibility. Take a stand, delete the damn thing and start from the beginning. It’s always better the second time anyway.

And what’s happened to entertainment? In my day, you listened to the whole album. None of this ‘download one track and listen to it over and over’ crap. If you wanted to listen to one track on a record you took it out of the sleeve, then took it out of the paper liner, looked on the album cover, counted the little tiny gaps and dropped the needle somewhere near where you thought it should go. Back then, music took effort. You listened to the whole album in the order the artist intended, none of this ‘shuffle’ B.S. Music, as an art form, was perpetuated in its proper context. Song B follows song A, etc. Imagine how different the Beatles Sgt. Pepper would be all shuffled up or just cut apart for the singles. Personally, I can’t listen to ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’ without hearing ‘Getting Better’ afterwards. Nowadays when an artist releases an album there are 2-3 tracks of songs people actually want to hear along with 6-7 songs of random filler that nobody EVER listens to. Isn’t that great? Somehow we’ve got more artists, more albums but less actual music that anyone likes. That makes a lot of sense.

Now television… there’s an art form that’s completely run amok. When I was a wee lad we had four stations. If there was a storm in the area we had five. Nowadays there are hundreds. It’s funny, when we only had four stations we did things. Nobody could stand to sit that long and watch those same four stations all day long. We did silly things like go outside and run around, play games, talk to each other, read books, the list was endless. Now though, we’re such an advanced culture that we have no need of such pedestrian activities. If one channel doesn’t suit our needs of the moment then surely there’s another one among the 597 choices that is showing exactly what we want to see. Why bother to interact with one another when we can be staring at a screen! It makes me wistful to think, though, of the cumulative mental and physical energy we would have free if we went back to four inane stations. Why, the roller-rinks would be crawling with happy children! All the drive-in theatres would be back in business! The libraries and bookstores would be swamped with patrons! Children would speak Latin and Greek in the streets as they played kick-the-can and stickball while Mozart concertos blasted from their boom-boxes. It’d be a veritable utopia of enlightenment and delight! Well… maybe not complete utopia, but I’d say it’s worth a shot. Let’s throw away our TVs and see what happens.

As a people, we have the capacity to be great and the capacity to be nothing. The world gives us great technology and sends us the message that if we use it, we’ll be great people. If we watch the new CNN Financial show we’ll make a lot of money on the stock market. “Knowledge is Power!”, they croon. “If we buy the newest, fastest computer we’ll be so much more productive,” they promise. And they’re right. Knowledge is power and productivity is something we all want more of but we must remember that it’s directionless power. That home improvement show may have given you the power to fence in your back yard but until you actuate the power you’ve been given you’ve gained nothing. The productivity of your new computer could be used to balance your checkbook or it could waste four hours of your time surfing the web. Technology gives us the power to drive ourselves further and faster into the direction we want to go but ultimately what direction we choose is still determined by our ability to overcome the most basic human frailties.

Random Photos

Over the years I regret that I haven’t taken more pictures of the silly mundane things in my life. Sure we have pictures of the kids and each other but we’ve still got all those things so I can reference them pretty easily. What I don’t remember is how the upstairs looked before the grand book purge of ought-four or what the living room looked like before we got rid of the purple couch. So for today’s blog posting, you get to see some random crap from my life. Aren’t you lucky! Click on any of the photos to see your luckiness more close up!

Yeah, here's the "wall o' lilies"... amazing to think that a dozen clearance bulbs plus 7 years of fertilizer equals 15 feet by 2 feet of really ugly lillies. This photo looks like crap on my computer; I'm not sure if it's the camera or the my monitor that gives up on showing that much orange...


Really should mow the yard before I take next year's photos...

Note to self... move that stupid chair next time...

I'm almost giddy... as you can see in the foreground, it's almost Hibiscus time again. Somebody really needs to come up with a species of lilac that blooms for more than a couple weeks though.


Sadly, the Peonies are far past their prime. Stupid ideas coming after the petals are all off...

More lillies. Too bad they're not a more appropriate color. Perhaps they can be painted...

My primary gardening problem is a crappy memory. I *thought* I remembered these stupid vines being called Hollyhocks in the store. They sure don't look like any Hollyhocks I can find online. Damn my recollection. Well, it's green and it grows. What more can one ask really?

Alright, so that's the back of the house, the 'experimental' landscaping as I refer to it. Another 200 landscaping bricks and I can start on the real stuff. Anyway, my marriage contract says I get to decorate the outside of the house and the upstairs. Not, of course, that the upstairs differs in any significant way from the decor of the rest of the house...

I've done the landing in Early American Witchdoctor...

A landing isn't a landing without a cricket bat and ball and an immense dragon vase.

And of course you have to have at least three Vishnu's and a Buddha. Need some incredibly useless Rob trivia? The two books on the shelf:

* Darwin's Descent of Man, late 19th century edition.
* Granville's Integral and Differential Calculus, mid 40s.