This entry is given to Sanjay, seeing as my last post made everyone mad enough to not even comment, but to physically beat me up whenever they saw me. Take it away, Sanjay.
Alright, class, take your seats. Professor Sanjay here to explain away some of those pesky questions you kids keep bringing to my office. And please, remember that my office hours are Monday and Wednesday from 10:30 to noon.The first question was brought by my office last week and I still don't know how anyone could even think of this. It follows:
THEOREM: All horses have an infinite number of legs.
The theorem may seem intuitively obvious to some, but in the interest of rigor we will give a complete proof. We begin with two Lemmas:
Lemma 1: All horses are the same color. Proof: We use the Principle of Mathematical Induction on the number, n, of horses. Clearly, one horse is the same color, so the Lemma is true for n=1. Now assume k horses are the same color, and consider k+1 horses. If we remove any one horse, we are left with k horses, which, by hypothesis, are all the same color. Since we removed an arbitrary horse, all k+1 horses are the same color.
Lemma 2: If a number is both even and odd, then it is infinite. Proof: Let n be a number which is both even and odd, and assume n is finite. As an even number, n = 2a for some integer a, and as an odd number, n = 2a+1. Thus 2a = 2a+1, whence 0 = 1. This contradiction establishes Lemma 2. Proof of Theorem: All horses have forelegs in front and two in back, so that all horses have six legs. Now six is an even number, but six is clearly an odd number of legs for a horse to have. Thus the number of legs on a horse is both even and odd, and so by Lemma 2 it must be infinite. You say, "But my horse has four legs." That, however, is a horse of a different color, which by Lemma 1 does exist.
First, off, we all know that this is a load of scientific rubbish. Anyone can look at a horse and see that it has four legs. If you can't count to four, then you might as well quit. But I have to hand it to the boring person who figured this out. The math checks out, now go back to smoking your ganja.
THEOREM 2: You've never touched anything.
This one is interesting. The theorem states that, because everything that exists is made of atoms, and atoms themselves are composed of a nucleus of protons and neutrons encircled by a cloud of negatively charged electrons, then nothing as ever touched anything. How? The negative charge of the electron cloud keeps to atoms of touching. Remember, electrons move so fast that it is impossible to know either where they are or where they are going. Let me rephrase that. You can either know where an electron is, or where it is going, but not both, because the mere existence of one precludes the knowledge of the other. It's like this, if you know exactly where something is, then the object in question can be given no measurable speed, but if you instead give an object a measurable speed, you cannot give a precise location, only a path. So electrons are moving so fast that they are everywhere and nowhere within an atom's electron cloud. If that is so, then the negative charge will repel any other atom, thought certainly with varying degrees of repulsion. You think you're sitting at a computer right now? Wrong, you're floating less than 1/billionth of an inch above the chair. You never strike the keys of a keyboard when typing, you merely register the force of the atomic repulsion, which in turns presses the individual keys down. You never touch the ground when you walk, it is again the less than 1/billionth of an inch principal. Almost enough to make you wonder about everything.
Alright class, fun times. I'll see you next week, we'll be having a quiz over the Roman Empire.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Friday, October 27, 2006
Pictureless for a Reason
Well, I see that Fred over at Skewed as a mild case of the panties in a bunch. I want to offer a sincere apology to those who might be offended by what they read in this post. Yes, I took a bit of a shot at Michael J. Fox. I respect him, and wish him well in his battle with Parkinson's, but trust me, if the Republicans ever trot out someone with an illness for the sake of political gain, I will take the same shots at them. Anyway, on with the show:
I sit here a man without a party. Politically speaking, I'm on the outside looking in. I was a Libertarian, borderline Republican. Lately, I'm so tired of the endless stream of crap being forcefed to the voting public that I've washed my hands of the major parties. I can find no reason that any party would be worthy of my membership. Is that a hint of self-importance I detect? Yes, it is. I'm actually an informed voter, so to speak, which scares the living daylights of out Joe and Sally Congressman.
Informed voters actually have a radar that detects crap from a great distance. Recently, any informed voter within... aw crap, on the globe, has realized that every single politician in Washington, DC is more absorbed with what kind of power they've gained, rather than the fact that, with said power, these people can actually effect great change in this country. I'm usually all for people having personal responsibility, but hey, Congress actually can do something about eliminating poverty. It can be done. You don't have to raise minimum wage to do it, either. But how? First, a quick lesson. Minimum wage rises, this is salary. If your continue to sell your products or services for the same price as you did before minimum wage was increased, you quckly lose money. Businesses are, for all intents and purposes, legally obligated to make money. If minimum wage goes up, the price of products goes up. If people have more money, but are in turn spending more money, then where's the gain?
The best proposition I've seen is the Fair Tax (go to fairtax.org for a lesson). If Congress would actually enact said bill, the salary average across the nation would rise. People would have more money, because our lovely imperial federal government wouldn't be taking so much of it.
But why would Congress care about you? I'm all for humanitarian work, but we need to realize that the region we've totally screwed over on this globe gains most of it's humanitarian aid from groups we've labelled "terrorist." I don't care which side of the aisle decided which people were terrorists, someone in Hamas or Hizb'allah has done something right. I don't agree with their methods, but they at least help rebuild what they blow up (most of the time). Congress, though, is spending billions of your hard-earned tax dollars every day to help people you'll never meet, but you have to take their word that the money is going to a good cause.
The Republicans have quagmired us. The Democrats are mad because a gay Republican (a crime in itself to dems) had sex with an intern, while they give Gerry Studds (RIP) a standing ovation for the same act. They, being the dems, have run Michael J. Fox out to complain about stem cell research not being funded. I've got news Michael, just because the feds aren't funding something doesn't mean it isn't being funded. Now sit down with the rest of Hollywood and keep your freakin' opinions to yourself. That being said, I have nothing but respect for Michael J. Fox. I wish he could recover from Parkinson's, but the fact remains that stem cell research has not been proven to cure disease, only to slow it down. Until that time, I think I can find better things for my tax dollars to be going to. It's almost like the last election and before the Iraq war. Jeanene Girafolo comes out with an ad saying "What has Saddam Hussein ever done to us?" Well, not us exactly, but a million Iranians and Kurds would kindly disagree. The Hollywood left needs to calm down. Especially this Air America bunch of worthless little guttersnipes.
The Republicans keep saying "stay the course", "run the race," well, I think the race has been postponed. We've pretty well ticked everyone in the region off. No one realy listens to us anymore. Do I blame Bush for it all? No. Clinton, Bush 41, Reagan, Carter, Johnson, Nixon, Ford, they've all got some blame to carry. Clinton was offered bin Laden twice by Sudan, but we would have had to remove Sudan from our terror watchlist. At the time, not such a great idea. Now? Might should've looked a little deeper into it. The answer does not lie with the United Nations. As my friend Robert has pointed out, the US, as the reigning superpower, does not give the body enough respect. Of course, they aren't exactly the bastion of credibility over the past decade. From planning to let Iraq and Iran co-chair the weapons council and Libya chairing the human rights council to the oil-for-food fiasco that was conveniently swept under the rug, the UN sits in New York derisively mocking the free world.
Well, I'm spent, so let's quickly recap. The Democrats spend too much money. The Republicans are essentially democrats with guns. The Libertarians, if they could ever actually give a crap about anything, might be a viable option. A voter revolution nears. Don't take that as the epic "Oh my, revolution." One day, the voters will wake up to your crap. One day Joe Taxpayer is going to say "Hey, what are you doing with this money?" What will your answer be? Think about it, Washington. How are you going to respond to the millions of voters in this country when they get fed up with your nonsense. It's not about having power, Congress, it's about accomplishing change with your power.
I sit here a man without a party. Politically speaking, I'm on the outside looking in. I was a Libertarian, borderline Republican. Lately, I'm so tired of the endless stream of crap being forcefed to the voting public that I've washed my hands of the major parties. I can find no reason that any party would be worthy of my membership. Is that a hint of self-importance I detect? Yes, it is. I'm actually an informed voter, so to speak, which scares the living daylights of out Joe and Sally Congressman.
Informed voters actually have a radar that detects crap from a great distance. Recently, any informed voter within... aw crap, on the globe, has realized that every single politician in Washington, DC is more absorbed with what kind of power they've gained, rather than the fact that, with said power, these people can actually effect great change in this country. I'm usually all for people having personal responsibility, but hey, Congress actually can do something about eliminating poverty. It can be done. You don't have to raise minimum wage to do it, either. But how? First, a quick lesson. Minimum wage rises, this is salary. If your continue to sell your products or services for the same price as you did before minimum wage was increased, you quckly lose money. Businesses are, for all intents and purposes, legally obligated to make money. If minimum wage goes up, the price of products goes up. If people have more money, but are in turn spending more money, then where's the gain?
The best proposition I've seen is the Fair Tax (go to fairtax.org for a lesson). If Congress would actually enact said bill, the salary average across the nation would rise. People would have more money, because our lovely imperial federal government wouldn't be taking so much of it.
But why would Congress care about you? I'm all for humanitarian work, but we need to realize that the region we've totally screwed over on this globe gains most of it's humanitarian aid from groups we've labelled "terrorist." I don't care which side of the aisle decided which people were terrorists, someone in Hamas or Hizb'allah has done something right. I don't agree with their methods, but they at least help rebuild what they blow up (most of the time). Congress, though, is spending billions of your hard-earned tax dollars every day to help people you'll never meet, but you have to take their word that the money is going to a good cause.
The Republicans have quagmired us. The Democrats are mad because a gay Republican (a crime in itself to dems) had sex with an intern, while they give Gerry Studds (RIP) a standing ovation for the same act. They, being the dems, have run Michael J. Fox out to complain about stem cell research not being funded. I've got news Michael, just because the feds aren't funding something doesn't mean it isn't being funded. Now sit down with the rest of Hollywood and keep your freakin' opinions to yourself. That being said, I have nothing but respect for Michael J. Fox. I wish he could recover from Parkinson's, but the fact remains that stem cell research has not been proven to cure disease, only to slow it down. Until that time, I think I can find better things for my tax dollars to be going to. It's almost like the last election and before the Iraq war. Jeanene Girafolo comes out with an ad saying "What has Saddam Hussein ever done to us?" Well, not us exactly, but a million Iranians and Kurds would kindly disagree. The Hollywood left needs to calm down. Especially this Air America bunch of worthless little guttersnipes.
The Republicans keep saying "stay the course", "run the race," well, I think the race has been postponed. We've pretty well ticked everyone in the region off. No one realy listens to us anymore. Do I blame Bush for it all? No. Clinton, Bush 41, Reagan, Carter, Johnson, Nixon, Ford, they've all got some blame to carry. Clinton was offered bin Laden twice by Sudan, but we would have had to remove Sudan from our terror watchlist. At the time, not such a great idea. Now? Might should've looked a little deeper into it. The answer does not lie with the United Nations. As my friend Robert has pointed out, the US, as the reigning superpower, does not give the body enough respect. Of course, they aren't exactly the bastion of credibility over the past decade. From planning to let Iraq and Iran co-chair the weapons council and Libya chairing the human rights council to the oil-for-food fiasco that was conveniently swept under the rug, the UN sits in New York derisively mocking the free world.
Well, I'm spent, so let's quickly recap. The Democrats spend too much money. The Republicans are essentially democrats with guns. The Libertarians, if they could ever actually give a crap about anything, might be a viable option. A voter revolution nears. Don't take that as the epic "Oh my, revolution." One day, the voters will wake up to your crap. One day Joe Taxpayer is going to say "Hey, what are you doing with this money?" What will your answer be? Think about it, Washington. How are you going to respond to the millions of voters in this country when they get fed up with your nonsense. It's not about having power, Congress, it's about accomplishing change with your power.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Bush and Space: again, a picture in every post
I'm taking what Rennie did and running with it. That's right, we here at the Right Wing are doing what we do best, stealing ideas and not even bothering to claim them as our own.
Apparently, the US has a plan for space. That's right, the big black area above and below our planet, and to the sides, you know, that place that turns blue when the sun comes up. We have a plan for that. Let's see, we know that, thanks to The Simpsons, the moon belongs to America, and we've sent robots to Mars, and now we've claimed the whole of infinity as our own.
It seems as though we're drawing closer and closer to Bush actually wearing a cape on stage. The outlandishness needs to end. We don't need a plan for space. How exactly do we plan to leave the planet and not plan to leave Iraq? Seems one should be easier than the other.
The scariest part, as pointed out by Rennie, is that we created a new Space Policy to replace the old Space Policy, but they are apparently the same. That's right, kids, it's typicaly U.S. Space Policy 2.0. We've levelled jurisdiction over the whole of God's creation. Way to go us.
Darth Bush today revealed the Death Star, a working model of George Lucas's ultimate weapon. Built using cheap labor and networked by Microsoft, flaws were immediately found in the design, such as faulty firewalls, a vast open infrastructure, and a small thermal exhaust port right below the main port.
When confronted with these flaws, Emperor Cheney ordered the designers executed and Darth Bush took command of the project.
Apparently, the US has a plan for space. That's right, the big black area above and below our planet, and to the sides, you know, that place that turns blue when the sun comes up. We have a plan for that. Let's see, we know that, thanks to The Simpsons, the moon belongs to America, and we've sent robots to Mars, and now we've claimed the whole of infinity as our own.
It seems as though we're drawing closer and closer to Bush actually wearing a cape on stage. The outlandishness needs to end. We don't need a plan for space. How exactly do we plan to leave the planet and not plan to leave Iraq? Seems one should be easier than the other.
The scariest part, as pointed out by Rennie, is that we created a new Space Policy to replace the old Space Policy, but they are apparently the same. That's right, kids, it's typicaly U.S. Space Policy 2.0. We've levelled jurisdiction over the whole of God's creation. Way to go us.
Darth Bush today revealed the Death Star, a working model of George Lucas's ultimate weapon. Built using cheap labor and networked by Microsoft, flaws were immediately found in the design, such as faulty firewalls, a vast open infrastructure, and a small thermal exhaust port right below the main port.
When confronted with these flaws, Emperor Cheney ordered the designers executed and Darth Bush took command of the project.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Element has identity crisis, but short time to deal with it
Note: To the left is a picture of a very happy scientist after proving that a small plastic whistle won by continually besting his own skeeball high score at Chuck E. Cheese is responsible for splitting atoms. Take notice of the satisfaction spreading across the man's face. He's a happy scientist.
Scientist have created a new heavy element, which will now be referred to as 118, for those of you keeping score at home. Not only is it super heavy, indicating a problem with metabolism, but it decays very rapidly. Just read.
According to CNN.com:
"Scientists said they smashed together calcium with the manmade element Californium to make an atom with 118 protons in its nucleus. The new element lasted for just one millisecond, but it was the heaviest element ever made and the first manmade inert gas -- the atomic family that includes helium, neon and radon. The element was created last year in Russia using a minuscule amount of Californium provided by the Americans. After a millisecond, it decayed into element 114, then into element 112 and then split in half, Moody said."
I have 3 problems with that quote:
1.) I'm not very fond of scientists talking about smashing things.
2.) Why in the name of all that is good and holy are we giving nuclear elements, regardless of the amount, to other countries? Are we just ignoring history at this point?
3. I'm no chemistry major, but how exactly to you count 118 protons in less than one millisecond?
I can't answer any of those, but the whole thing struck me as odd. The worst part of the whole article is that one of the scientists involved says the discovery of 118 (can you really call it a discovery if you just smashed stuff together like a drunken ocelot to get your desired results?) doesn't count until other scientists verify it. So let me get this straight, we're reporting news that isn't really news? Way to go, media!
The most terrifying aspect here is that Americans gave the nuclear elements necessary for this stunt to Russia. Just handed it over. Now I know Russia isn't the threat they once were, but it still seems like shoddy business to just run around going "Who wants nuclear elements? Nuclear elements free to the first fifteen customers!" I think it's badd for our rep.
A Picture in Every Post II: and other slightly wacky stuff
Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you: Toby, the unofficial, likely to never be seen again, Right Wing mascot.
This picture was meant to be shown in our loast post, but the good network found it tacky to actually allow pictures in blogs. But from this day forward, there will be a picture in every post.
Now, the slightly wacky: I'm watching CNBC yesterday, not by choice, but because my boss had left our backroom TV on CNBC, and the reporter comes on and begins talking about the Dow Jones reaching 12000 for the first time ever. This is an all-time high, so how did the reporter choose to cover this story. By saying that the Dow reaching 12000 is a sign that stocks are finally rebounding. I was unaware that reaching your all-time high was considered a rebound.
The wacky: I heard on ESPNEWS this morning that several NFL stadiums are the likely targets of dirty bombs Sunday. Outside of the play of the particular teams in these particular stadiums, the report is pseudo-believeable. The reason I use the pseudo in this instance is the list of "targeted" stadia. New York, OK. Seattle, understandable. Miami, alright. Atlanta, iffy, but OK. Houston, well, that's a stretch. Oakland, are we sure they haven't already been hit (the Raiders are 0-the season)? Cleveland, wait a cotton-pickin' minute here. Cleveland. Cleveland? Who in their right mind would attack Cleveland? Well, apparently the FBI has stepped in and arrested a young man from Milwaukee, you know, the terrorist homeland Milwaukee? In other news, President Bush announced that the governor of Wisconsin has three days to leave office and turn over power. Let's see where this goes.
The incredibly wacky: The weather. That's right, someone forgot to inform Enlgand that the entire Eastern seaboard of the US would be borrowing their weather. That means dense fog, gloomy rain, and chilly wind. "That's like summer," commented a London man through a bite of his eel pie and jam booties. Where's someone like Carol Channing when you need them?
By the by, this happens to be the 30th ever post here at The Right Wing, a tradition we hope to continue. Assuming, of course, I have the time or Sanjay has any enthusiasm. Right now he's asleep at his desk.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
A Picture in Every Post
That's right, now that Sanjay's one-post run is over, I'm back. I'm glad he's got me in the lead as least stressed, but to put Robert ahead of Carl as most stressed is a bit perplexing. Of course, I know that Carl's now smack in the middle of other more time-consuming issues, a fact Sanjay didn't know, so I can safely say that it's tie.
And it's raining, a lovely way for a Tuesday to be, with the typical mix of malice and indecision that can be accounted to a day that comes before "Hump Day," which I'll have you know is greatly depressing to Tuesday, and Monday as well, they are just innocent bystanders who have been viciously demonized by the system that says one half of the week is good, the other half bad. Start being nice to Monday, and especially to Tuesday.
In other news, the Thrashers are 4-1-1, an excellent record, easily the best start in franchise history. I'm thrilled, but Dallas is still undefeated. Someone had better step up out West and knock the Stars down a peg or I'll be very upset all season. There is no excuse, Western Conference, for letting Dallas run amuck the way they are.
Now, a Picture in Every Post. It is my sincere desire to put a picture in every post (and a chicken in every pot) from here on. That means that the file size of my posts will be increasing, on average, and that I'll be totally eliminating vegetarians. And you veggie lovers, don't give me the old "I can't eat a living thing" excuse. Lettuce is alive, you just don't have to set traps for it.
So as my first official 'Picture in Every Post" picture, I present the semi-official, likely to never be seen again, Right Wing mascot: Toby. And wouldn't you know it, Blogger.com isn't posting pictures. Looks like you'll have to sit in suspense about what the picture could be.
Oh, wait... "A Picture in Every Post?" Well, this isn't off to a good start.
And it's raining, a lovely way for a Tuesday to be, with the typical mix of malice and indecision that can be accounted to a day that comes before "Hump Day," which I'll have you know is greatly depressing to Tuesday, and Monday as well, they are just innocent bystanders who have been viciously demonized by the system that says one half of the week is good, the other half bad. Start being nice to Monday, and especially to Tuesday.
In other news, the Thrashers are 4-1-1, an excellent record, easily the best start in franchise history. I'm thrilled, but Dallas is still undefeated. Someone had better step up out West and knock the Stars down a peg or I'll be very upset all season. There is no excuse, Western Conference, for letting Dallas run amuck the way they are.
Now, a Picture in Every Post. It is my sincere desire to put a picture in every post (and a chicken in every pot) from here on. That means that the file size of my posts will be increasing, on average, and that I'll be totally eliminating vegetarians. And you veggie lovers, don't give me the old "I can't eat a living thing" excuse. Lettuce is alive, you just don't have to set traps for it.
So as my first official 'Picture in Every Post" picture, I present the semi-official, likely to never be seen again, Right Wing mascot: Toby. And wouldn't you know it, Blogger.com isn't posting pictures. Looks like you'll have to sit in suspense about what the picture could be.
Oh, wait... "A Picture in Every Post?" Well, this isn't off to a good start.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
From the Mind of Sanjay...
We start this week with the eerie similarity between Barney Rubble's hair and the new Buffalo Sabres logo. Actually, this is pretty much all we're going to discuss. Honestly, folks, I don't know if the new Sabres' logo is a buffalo, a banana slug or Barney Rubble's lost hairpiece. If you'll forgive the horrible photoshop job above, you'll see what I mean. When I created that, I couldn't tell the difference.
All horrible photoshopping aside, I've been called in from the 'pen to fill in for Blake this week, and I'm gonna make the most of it.
Let's start with the fact that I've been listening to Blake complain since Thursday about how he had to teach his African American literature class the similarities and differences between a Shakespearian and Petrarchian sonnet. Why African American lit would study Shakespeare and Petrarch is beyone me, seeing as there was no American when either man lived, and certainly no African-Americans. But I digress.
We've been talking for days lately about hockey, and by we I mean myself and Blake, who usually talks to Carl while Robert stands glassy eyed listening to the stream of French-Canadian and Russian/Eastern European names and unfamiliar terms. I personally am an unabashed Red Wings fan, but Blake supports the Thrashers, which is his right.
Another thing happening this week is the continued frazzling of Blake, Carl, and Robert under the stress of seniorhood. Preliminary polls show Blake coming out least stressed, withe Grubbs and Rennie shaking their heads in the background. I think they'll be okay, but I am starting a pool on who has a mental breakdown first. (Any takers for Robert in the second week of November?)
And that's it. Not much, I know, but I'm tired.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Jaded Seniors, why do we do this to ourselves?
Author's Note: Pictured to the right is Paul Kariya after being hit by New Jersey Devils defenseman Scott Stevens in the 2003 Stanley Cup Finals. Kariya remained on the ice for nearly a minute, unmoving and not breathing. Suddenly he exhaled a massive breath and regained consciousness. He was back on the ice in the next period. This is exactly how I feel right now.I'm a jaded senior. You're a jaded senior. (Robert, thanks for the terminology.) We're all jaded seniors in one way or another. The biggest fault of jaded seniors is a newly diagnosed disease called jaded senioritis with severly impacted procrastination and it affects all of us. We put things off until the last possible minute. If we ever actually did work on something for more than a week, then you should worry. Otherwise, it's completely normal for the jaded senior to go running into the computer lab at 10 am, mumbling to his/her-self about the paper that is due at 11:15am that they haven't even started.
I'm guilty of this. In the last two semesters I've written 3 papers, each over 5 pages in length, with only hours to spare. The most god-awful thing about procrastinating a paper is that, especially in my case, I always do better on papers written the day they are due. If given more than a week to write a paper, the grade steadily decreases, because I always change things around, reorder my thoughts, and end up with a stream of consciousness academic blathering that would make Douglas Adams weep, God rest the man's soul.
Apparently I was given a gift. My first instinct on academic writing is usually my best. My rough drafts would usually get better grades than finished, crisp copies. I hate to brag, but I've finally got something to brag about. Like this semester, for example. I wrote a five page paper three hours before it was due and made a 98 on it. Last semester I wrote an 11-page research snoozer, starting the paper at around 11:30 a.m. and finishing it at 4:30 p.m., for World Drama and it received a "B." Such is my gift. I can't pass it on to anyone, I can't even really share it, but it's my gift.
Now, back to the question: Jaded Seniors, why do we do this to ourselves? Honestly. The procrastination thing has caused more college students to go bald, or to reach a total vegetative state before they should ever consider those things. The picture above best symbolizes the typical feeling after such action. After the World Drama paper last semester I went home a crashed in front of my TV and, without any real knowledge of what I was doing, proceeded to play two straight hours of Call of Duty 2, racking up a higher body count than Hot Shots: Part Deux. For me, that was relief. Everyone has their own thing.
But I think we can all agree that, concerning procrastination, the after-effect is like having your brains smashed out by a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick. It's likely that if we jaded seniors continue our reckless procrastination, we could have an entire generation experience Spontaneous Massive Existence Failure, in which literally thousands of students, most of them seniors, will simultaneously disappear as a result of stress alone.
And with that, the shameless Douglas Adams rip-off has come to end. Sanjay, start warming up, you've got the next post.
Monday, October 09, 2006
Sickness, Random News, NHL
So, since Wednesday I've been sick. Apparently, this came as a shock to everyone, who thought I was impervious to illness and generally wandered about in a state of perpetual health.
Well guess what? I got sick. Very sick. The doctor described it as a sinus infection that had not only set up camp, but had invited three friends over for the weekend. The meds were great, and by great I mean god awful doses of horrible sleep and intermittent drowsiness. I was rendered incapable of operating heavy machinery, to say the least.
Well, now it's Monday. I'm over the sickness, but I have a persistent enough cough that I could give a cat pneumonia in 15 seconds.
Anyway, in lighter news, Kim Jong Mentally Ill and the goosesteppers of NK have fired off a nuke. Possibly two. They were small nukes, about 25 times smaller than the one that leveled Hiroshima. Still, expect the UN to say "Stop it!" and maybe even slap someone on the wrist. If the UN ever did hand out genuine punishment, you could expect to see Satan himself shopping for a parka.
The Foley case refuses to go away. I'm not saying I condone what he did, because God knows I don't. But isn't it just awful when a Republican has sex with an intern. Mr. Clinton, you can sit back down.
The NHL is underway. Thank God that true sport still exists. Should be intersting.
Well guess what? I got sick. Very sick. The doctor described it as a sinus infection that had not only set up camp, but had invited three friends over for the weekend. The meds were great, and by great I mean god awful doses of horrible sleep and intermittent drowsiness. I was rendered incapable of operating heavy machinery, to say the least.
Well, now it's Monday. I'm over the sickness, but I have a persistent enough cough that I could give a cat pneumonia in 15 seconds.
Anyway, in lighter news, Kim Jong Mentally Ill and the goosesteppers of NK have fired off a nuke. Possibly two. They were small nukes, about 25 times smaller than the one that leveled Hiroshima. Still, expect the UN to say "Stop it!" and maybe even slap someone on the wrist. If the UN ever did hand out genuine punishment, you could expect to see Satan himself shopping for a parka.
The Foley case refuses to go away. I'm not saying I condone what he did, because God knows I don't. But isn't it just awful when a Republican has sex with an intern. Mr. Clinton, you can sit back down.
The NHL is underway. Thank God that true sport still exists. Should be intersting.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
The Bird
Rennie spoke the other day about taking a moment to soak it all in, trying to take in life around him and not forcing it tobe what he wanted it to be, but rather him being what it wanted him to be. I know Grubbs will likely disagree, bless his agnostic little heart, but I stand enthralled in a Rennie-like experience.
For the past three weeks, a bird has taken up residence at my house. Every night, at 7:30 exactly, it shows up, nestles into a corner overhang on my front porch, sticks its beak into the corner, and sleeps. I watched it leave Tuesday morning, and it went from one corner, along the overhang to the opposite corner, and then flew off.
But every night it does this. I watched it arrive tonight, watched it go through the same procedure, curling into the corner, and I realized something. The bird feels safe. It must, for it to come back as often as it does, especially every night for three straight weeks. But this bird has a safe haven, a sanctum sanctorum to rest the night.
I realize that the bird is closer to God than I am. The bird can sleep at night, knowing that it will wake up in the same corner in the morning. I go to sleep knowing that I will wake up in the same bed, assuming of course that I wake up, but that's where the similarities end.
I wish I knew how to deal with it. It's like an epiphany, but you only get half of the revelation now. I wish I knew how to deal with it.
For the past three weeks, a bird has taken up residence at my house. Every night, at 7:30 exactly, it shows up, nestles into a corner overhang on my front porch, sticks its beak into the corner, and sleeps. I watched it leave Tuesday morning, and it went from one corner, along the overhang to the opposite corner, and then flew off.
But every night it does this. I watched it arrive tonight, watched it go through the same procedure, curling into the corner, and I realized something. The bird feels safe. It must, for it to come back as often as it does, especially every night for three straight weeks. But this bird has a safe haven, a sanctum sanctorum to rest the night.
I realize that the bird is closer to God than I am. The bird can sleep at night, knowing that it will wake up in the same corner in the morning. I go to sleep knowing that I will wake up in the same bed, assuming of course that I wake up, but that's where the similarities end.
I wish I knew how to deal with it. It's like an epiphany, but you only get half of the revelation now. I wish I knew how to deal with it.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Hallways and my POV on Rennie's Geriatric Rant
Hallways:
In colleges and high schools nationwide, hallways are everywhere. I believe one senator likened them to angry tubes that are clogged. Well, that rings true. The general nature of a hallway, or a corridor to you fancy-pants English majors.... wait, I'm a fancy-pants English major... is anger. It is infested by cobbled-together malfunctioning piles of genetic incompetence, each spouting his/her/its own brand of pathetic juvenile drivel, all while occupying space that could be better used by students and faculty who actually have things to do other than stand around and talk about how, oh my god, like, jenny, like, totally changed her hair color to like, blonde.
This happened to me today. I'm walking into one of the many buildings here on the beautiful campus of North Georgia College & State University. There is a decently sized hallway leading to the elevator. I've got a class on the third floor and I don't feel like taking the stairs, dang it. Anyway, the woman in front of me is wheeling her bookbag/luggage around the hallway, toward a pack of fresh-meat. This particular group of space-wasters has left one tiny path through their midst for weary upperclassmen to journey through. So the woman in front of me, she of the wheeled-baggage, stops in the middle of the pathway and begins looking around and talking to the drivelers nearby.
This is maddness and stupidity rolled into one neat little package. Students needing to get to the other side of the hallway are now stuck in a pedestrian traffic jam. It's a simple solution folks. Clear a path. Leave space for people to walk. Yield the right-of-way to people who are actually moving and not standing around waiting for their next class to start.
My POV on Rennie's Geriatric Rant
So Rennie over at The Skewed View goes off the other day on this rant about geriatric drivers and how he nearly died because of it. He's explained to me before the Blood Mountain commute. He said it's essentially a stretch of single car wrecks. I asked if they were single car wrecks because only one car was involved or if they were single car wrecks because the other car involved is now resting upside down at the bottom of a 40,000 foot gorge.
Anyway, I want to offer my view on this topic. I'm not going to re-hash what Rennie said, because I enjoy my own special commute to and from North GA. I cross Lake Lanier anywhere from 3-6 times a day, depending on the route I take. For those of you unfamiliar with it, Lake Lanier is a decently-sized man-made lake filled with trees, catfish the size of a school bus, sewage, catfish, old houses from it's creation, did I mention catfish?
For some reason, whenever you approach a bridge going over the lake, all drivers around you suddenly lose 50-300 IQ points. They drive like maniacs. There is a section of road that is four-lane, leading to a bridge that crosses the lake, after which the road quickly narrows back to 2-lanes. Picture if you will two UPS trucks running nearly side-by-side, one slightly behind the other as they approach this merge. I am further behind the lead UPS truck, leaving myself plaenty of room to fall back into traffic (although none to pleased about riding behind two UPS trucks for the next five miles), and there is another car (driven by Martha Washington herself) behind the second UPS truck. We approach the merge and the UPS trucks fall in, neatly tucked away for the drive. I begin to merge, having had my turn signal on for a good 10-15 seconds already, and I hear a car horn. Martha Washington has now tucked in so close behind the second UPS truck that drafting doesn't even apply. Now there have been signs for the last 1/2 mile saying that the lanes merge. We've ridden a good ways with every intention of making this merge work for all parties involved. But grandma forgot the rules and is now doing 60 miles per hour to keep me from getting in line. So I back off, and merge behind her, having nearly been run off the road in the process. Then this little old woman slows down to 30 mph. We're in a 50mph zone. I'll never get it.
In colleges and high schools nationwide, hallways are everywhere. I believe one senator likened them to angry tubes that are clogged. Well, that rings true. The general nature of a hallway, or a corridor to you fancy-pants English majors.... wait, I'm a fancy-pants English major... is anger. It is infested by cobbled-together malfunctioning piles of genetic incompetence, each spouting his/her/its own brand of pathetic juvenile drivel, all while occupying space that could be better used by students and faculty who actually have things to do other than stand around and talk about how, oh my god, like, jenny, like, totally changed her hair color to like, blonde.
This happened to me today. I'm walking into one of the many buildings here on the beautiful campus of North Georgia College & State University. There is a decently sized hallway leading to the elevator. I've got a class on the third floor and I don't feel like taking the stairs, dang it. Anyway, the woman in front of me is wheeling her bookbag/luggage around the hallway, toward a pack of fresh-meat. This particular group of space-wasters has left one tiny path through their midst for weary upperclassmen to journey through. So the woman in front of me, she of the wheeled-baggage, stops in the middle of the pathway and begins looking around and talking to the drivelers nearby.
This is maddness and stupidity rolled into one neat little package. Students needing to get to the other side of the hallway are now stuck in a pedestrian traffic jam. It's a simple solution folks. Clear a path. Leave space for people to walk. Yield the right-of-way to people who are actually moving and not standing around waiting for their next class to start.
My POV on Rennie's Geriatric Rant
So Rennie over at The Skewed View goes off the other day on this rant about geriatric drivers and how he nearly died because of it. He's explained to me before the Blood Mountain commute. He said it's essentially a stretch of single car wrecks. I asked if they were single car wrecks because only one car was involved or if they were single car wrecks because the other car involved is now resting upside down at the bottom of a 40,000 foot gorge.
Anyway, I want to offer my view on this topic. I'm not going to re-hash what Rennie said, because I enjoy my own special commute to and from North GA. I cross Lake Lanier anywhere from 3-6 times a day, depending on the route I take. For those of you unfamiliar with it, Lake Lanier is a decently-sized man-made lake filled with trees, catfish the size of a school bus, sewage, catfish, old houses from it's creation, did I mention catfish?
For some reason, whenever you approach a bridge going over the lake, all drivers around you suddenly lose 50-300 IQ points. They drive like maniacs. There is a section of road that is four-lane, leading to a bridge that crosses the lake, after which the road quickly narrows back to 2-lanes. Picture if you will two UPS trucks running nearly side-by-side, one slightly behind the other as they approach this merge. I am further behind the lead UPS truck, leaving myself plaenty of room to fall back into traffic (although none to pleased about riding behind two UPS trucks for the next five miles), and there is another car (driven by Martha Washington herself) behind the second UPS truck. We approach the merge and the UPS trucks fall in, neatly tucked away for the drive. I begin to merge, having had my turn signal on for a good 10-15 seconds already, and I hear a car horn. Martha Washington has now tucked in so close behind the second UPS truck that drafting doesn't even apply. Now there have been signs for the last 1/2 mile saying that the lanes merge. We've ridden a good ways with every intention of making this merge work for all parties involved. But grandma forgot the rules and is now doing 60 miles per hour to keep me from getting in line. So I back off, and merge behind her, having nearly been run off the road in the process. Then this little old woman slows down to 30 mph. We're in a 50mph zone. I'll never get it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)