Holiday Wishes
Merriest of Christmases to you, visitor -- or whatever seasonal wishes best put the wind in the sails of your little schooner. And prayers for a healthier, happier, peacier New Year in ought-three.
Namaste.
12.24.2002
11.19.2002
New Solution for War
Send WalMart and McDonald's to war-torn, volatile areas. Build major retail distribution centers, complete with warehouses and surrounded by company town-type Section 8 style housing. Provide sites with military protection. Staff stores entirely with locals, pay them standard American wages, and house them locally. See how long it takes for everyone to suddenly stop fighting and, instead, put on a few needless pounds, which they'd then work-off by bargain-hunting for senseless jewelry and tacky domestic decorative items.
Peace.
Send WalMart and McDonald's to war-torn, volatile areas. Build major retail distribution centers, complete with warehouses and surrounded by company town-type Section 8 style housing. Provide sites with military protection. Staff stores entirely with locals, pay them standard American wages, and house them locally. See how long it takes for everyone to suddenly stop fighting and, instead, put on a few needless pounds, which they'd then work-off by bargain-hunting for senseless jewelry and tacky domestic decorative items.
Peace.
10.03.2002
9.11.2002
A Prayer for Peace
I know you'll never forget where you were or what you were doing, when it happened, when things changed. For all of us.
Today, we remember the victims and their families, the survivors and the witnesses. Though we are all, today, witnesses, to some extent.
This is a prayer for peace.
At 8:46 am this morning, with the national anthem playing on my car stereo, I left a NYC subway token at the May 4th Memorial at Kent State University. I wonder what others are doing, what other small, quiet, personal acts of remembrance are taking place, around the country and around the world.
If you're reading this, and you have a minute, please post to the message board. We're interested in hearing how you've remembered that day.
God bless our nation, our principles and our way of life. May we never stop trying to do it in a better way, a way that is better for all nations, and all people.
I know you'll never forget where you were or what you were doing, when it happened, when things changed. For all of us.
Today, we remember the victims and their families, the survivors and the witnesses. Though we are all, today, witnesses, to some extent.
This is a prayer for peace.
At 8:46 am this morning, with the national anthem playing on my car stereo, I left a NYC subway token at the May 4th Memorial at Kent State University. I wonder what others are doing, what other small, quiet, personal acts of remembrance are taking place, around the country and around the world.
If you're reading this, and you have a minute, please post to the message board. We're interested in hearing how you've remembered that day.
God bless our nation, our principles and our way of life. May we never stop trying to do it in a better way, a way that is better for all nations, and all people.
6.25.2002
Morning Misadventures
It is always the smallest things that remind us of how early we are in our own path to enlightenment.
This morning's attempt to leave the house for the workday: The door closed behind me and the "click" instantly was translated into "My keys!!!!!" So, Your Humble Chronicler spent a good hour and a half attempting to defeat the simple catch. The initiaI 95% of my time was distributed among:
The moral: Really explore the problem before you even attempt what may seem like a simple or obvious solution.
Where I failed: Had I studied the way the door and the latch were set, I might have had better luck from the start.
Where I succeeded: Tenacity -- never quite gave up, fully.
There ya go.
It is always the smallest things that remind us of how early we are in our own path to enlightenment.
This morning's attempt to leave the house for the workday: The door closed behind me and the "click" instantly was translated into "My keys!!!!!" So, Your Humble Chronicler spent a good hour and a half attempting to defeat the simple catch. The initiaI 95% of my time was distributed among:
- trying to trip the latch with plastic credit-card type things in my wallet -- which bent and crumbled;
- climbing up to peer into the garage attic space, to see if it was an open space that may have led to another crawl space that would allow me into the house (no);
- checking to see if any windows were let unlocked (none);
- cursing at the cat, who was inside and was, of course, totally useless;
- calling my landlord's nearby office to see if he could run over and let me in (out of office);
- calling landlord's wife at home for same reason (answering machine);
- calling fiancee in a desperate quest to see if she, perhaps, had hidden a spare house key anywhere outside (out of the office and no);
- reattempting the credit-card trick (failed);
- attempting to pick the lock with miscellaneous pieces of scrap metal and a small screwdriver (failed);
- attempting to slide the latch open with an empty plastic windshield wiper fluid bottle which I cut with a pair of pruning chears to suit the task (failed).
The moral: Really explore the problem before you even attempt what may seem like a simple or obvious solution.
Where I failed: Had I studied the way the door and the latch were set, I might have had better luck from the start.
Where I succeeded: Tenacity -- never quite gave up, fully.
There ya go.
6.04.2002
Interesting Sites
Interactive metaphor, from Entropy8 and zuper.
And some from Superbad.
The long-in-the-works Museum of Sex.
Interactive metaphor, from Entropy8 and zuper.
And some from Superbad.
The long-in-the-works Museum of Sex.
5.21.2002
5.10.2002
5.07.2002
4.05.2002
Believe it.....or Not!
Self-styled Sasquatch enthusiast Richard J. La Monica, Sr. says, "I think if you believe in something, you should fight for it!" For it's part, TBH -- ever enthusiastic supporters of the "To Each His/Her Own" dictum -- says, what the hell -- jump in -- distraction is good. (Here's an interview that even includes a mention of one of our favorite white trash lunch joints, which has been the setting for a couple previous posts in these very pages!)
Feeling inspired? If so, consider taking a junket to Newcomerstown, Ohio, this weekend.
You be the judge.
Self-styled Sasquatch enthusiast Richard J. La Monica, Sr. says, "I think if you believe in something, you should fight for it!" For it's part, TBH -- ever enthusiastic supporters of the "To Each His/Her Own" dictum -- says, what the hell -- jump in -- distraction is good. (Here's an interview that even includes a mention of one of our favorite white trash lunch joints, which has been the setting for a couple previous posts in these very pages!)
Feeling inspired? If so, consider taking a junket to Newcomerstown, Ohio, this weekend.
You be the judge.
4.02.2002
3.20.2002
Humility
Had the opportunity to see Archibishop Desmond M. Tutu give a somewhat impromptu lecture -- covered everything from why terrorism will never end until all people have access to safe and reliable housing, to effective medical care, to quality education. "Human beings were created to be free," said Tutu. Amazing human. Found it incredible to find myself in such close physical proximity to this true leader.
Had the opportunity to see Archibishop Desmond M. Tutu give a somewhat impromptu lecture -- covered everything from why terrorism will never end until all people have access to safe and reliable housing, to effective medical care, to quality education. "Human beings were created to be free," said Tutu. Amazing human. Found it incredible to find myself in such close physical proximity to this true leader.
3.15.2002
The Ides of March
Beware, beware, beware, the ides of March. The ides have it, they do.
So, like, beware.
Separately, it's that time of year again -- time for the ever-popular, terribly twisted Peeps page.
Hmm. Yes. Not for the squeamish.
Beware, beware, beware, the ides of March. The ides have it, they do.
So, like, beware.
Separately, it's that time of year again -- time for the ever-popular, terribly twisted Peeps page.
Hmm. Yes. Not for the squeamish.
3.14.2002
Today's White-Trash Quote, Overheard While Lunching
"You should avoid difficult and vexatious people. For they are a vexation to the spirit." (This said by a middle-aged manual labor-type to his partner? niece? cousin? -- hard to tell -- white-trash, remember??)
Yep -- really said it just that way. Two sentences, with the biblical phrasing. Fortunately, nothing was said about vivacious or voluptuous people, though. So, it's all good. Whew.
"You should avoid difficult and vexatious people. For they are a vexation to the spirit." (This said by a middle-aged manual labor-type to his partner? niece? cousin? -- hard to tell -- white-trash, remember??)
Yep -- really said it just that way. Two sentences, with the biblical phrasing. Fortunately, nothing was said about vivacious or voluptuous people, though. So, it's all good. Whew.
3.04.2002
3.01.2002
Once, long ago...
I was there, prolly in the late '70's, I guess. I'd taken a bus to NYC with a high school buddy. We made it to the roof. Seems even longer ago now. It is still all so very sad.
Here, in happier times.
I was there, prolly in the late '70's, I guess. I'd taken a bus to NYC with a high school buddy. We made it to the roof. Seems even longer ago now. It is still all so very sad.
Here, in happier times.
2.26.2002
Today's Good Deed
So, feeling a tad under the weather, I left the office for lunch. Hit my favorite low-cost white-trash country-style restaurant to grab a cup of chili. While there, an elderly couple came in and was seated at a table near me, with their granddaughter. Menus are distributed, and the decision-making process begins. Apparently, gramps is in the mood for breakfast, but grandma informs him that they only serve it until eleven a.m., unlike "the usual place we go to, where they serve it all day." I dunno...I just didn't appreciate her tone. Seemed like a sweet old guy. His eyes caught mine, and I silently mouthed to him "They still serve it." He grinned, surprised by my mischievous input. When the waitress returned to take their orders, he asked if they had biscuits and sausage gravy.
"We sure do," replied the waitress. "Is that what you'd like?"
Grandma was none the wiser to our secret duplicity. He smiled at me again as I left.
{*grin*}
So, feeling a tad under the weather, I left the office for lunch. Hit my favorite low-cost white-trash country-style restaurant to grab a cup of chili. While there, an elderly couple came in and was seated at a table near me, with their granddaughter. Menus are distributed, and the decision-making process begins. Apparently, gramps is in the mood for breakfast, but grandma informs him that they only serve it until eleven a.m., unlike "the usual place we go to, where they serve it all day." I dunno...I just didn't appreciate her tone. Seemed like a sweet old guy. His eyes caught mine, and I silently mouthed to him "They still serve it." He grinned, surprised by my mischievous input. When the waitress returned to take their orders, he asked if they had biscuits and sausage gravy.
"We sure do," replied the waitress. "Is that what you'd like?"
Grandma was none the wiser to our secret duplicity. He smiled at me again as I left.
{*grin*}
2.22.2002
Why blog?
Well, that's a question that pretty much comes up just about anytime a non-blogger learns that someone they know has a blog. "So, uh, why do you do this?" and "Don't take this the wrong way, but -- do you think people really read all of this stuff?..." For some thoughts on the former, read Adam Curry's take, "Blogging: Tune Out and Switch On." Other thoughts at Wired. (As far as the latter goes, I'll posit the following guess that most bloggers would say that while it would be nice if people read our blogs, we don't really care. Really. It's more like keeping a journal than anything else. A journal with hyperlinks.)
Yes, yes -- weblogs provide anyone who feels like looking with an endless hallway whose walls are lined with individual windows, technicolored panes of virtual glass through which a reader may cast a fleeting glimpse or a prolonged leer into the other-worlds of other bloggers. Sure, sure -- it's nice to see what the other humans are up to. But, it also allows the individual to keep one toe in the metaphorical stream of their own proverbial creative juices. One can go about one's usual business and, when struck by what feels like an original thought, can immediately capture that notion and send it out to the world, for posterity. Even if no one reads it -- after all, there's no guarantee that anyone ever will -- it gives one the feeling of having contributed something personal to the greater consciousness -- and one can do so with no more strain than ordinary multitasking, thanks to applications like blogger.
That's why we do it, anyway. How about you?? Leave a message and tell us why.
Well, that's a question that pretty much comes up just about anytime a non-blogger learns that someone they know has a blog. "So, uh, why do you do this?" and "Don't take this the wrong way, but -- do you think people really read all of this stuff?..." For some thoughts on the former, read Adam Curry's take, "Blogging: Tune Out and Switch On." Other thoughts at Wired. (As far as the latter goes, I'll posit the following guess that most bloggers would say that while it would be nice if people read our blogs, we don't really care. Really. It's more like keeping a journal than anything else. A journal with hyperlinks.)
Yes, yes -- weblogs provide anyone who feels like looking with an endless hallway whose walls are lined with individual windows, technicolored panes of virtual glass through which a reader may cast a fleeting glimpse or a prolonged leer into the other-worlds of other bloggers. Sure, sure -- it's nice to see what the other humans are up to. But, it also allows the individual to keep one toe in the metaphorical stream of their own proverbial creative juices. One can go about one's usual business and, when struck by what feels like an original thought, can immediately capture that notion and send it out to the world, for posterity. Even if no one reads it -- after all, there's no guarantee that anyone ever will -- it gives one the feeling of having contributed something personal to the greater consciousness -- and one can do so with no more strain than ordinary multitasking, thanks to applications like blogger.
That's why we do it, anyway. How about you?? Leave a message and tell us why.
Wow...
Well, Michelle Kwan still rocks -- no gold, as she wished, but truly one of the great figure skaters of all time. Sara Hughes truly did give a tremendous performance -- graceful, athletic, flawless -- much as Tara "I won and now I'm done" Lipinksi did four years ago at the Nagano games. We can only wonder how the results might have differed, in terms of how competitors Kwan, Sasha Cohen (USA, Cal.) and Irina Slutskaya (RUS) would have approached their performances, mentally, had the judges given Sarah a few 6.0's, right up front. Interesting that Tara didn't get any 6's either, though she did receive a slew of 5.9's.
Separately, we're pretty annoyed at the media's handling of the USA Womens Hockey Team's loss to Canada. Yes, they lost, but it was just one game -- granted, the Olympic competition -- but this hardly is reason for all the dissing. They're still a killer team. And so is Canada. Can't we celebrate both of them? Well, this guy can't -- read this -- seems someone always has to get fixated on some whining-angle. After you've finished reading, The Band encourages you to amuse yourselves by writing to the columnist and advising him to get down off his soapbobsleigh. In the best spirit of the games, of course.
One of The Band's standing dreams is to someday actually attend the games. Until then, though, we've been enjoying the Olympics courtesy of NBC. If you are too, then you've stumbled upon yet another passive means of watching way too much TV, and should check out Bernard McGrane's article, "The Zen TV Experiment" -- very interesting.
RTI -- Remember those?
[ Short for "real-time interruption" -- Ed.]
Separately, we're waiting RT for our seester to have her first baby. Niece? Or nephew??.......
Well, Michelle Kwan still rocks -- no gold, as she wished, but truly one of the great figure skaters of all time. Sara Hughes truly did give a tremendous performance -- graceful, athletic, flawless -- much as Tara "I won and now I'm done" Lipinksi did four years ago at the Nagano games. We can only wonder how the results might have differed, in terms of how competitors Kwan, Sasha Cohen (USA, Cal.) and Irina Slutskaya (RUS) would have approached their performances, mentally, had the judges given Sarah a few 6.0's, right up front. Interesting that Tara didn't get any 6's either, though she did receive a slew of 5.9's.
Separately, we're pretty annoyed at the media's handling of the USA Womens Hockey Team's loss to Canada. Yes, they lost, but it was just one game -- granted, the Olympic competition -- but this hardly is reason for all the dissing. They're still a killer team. And so is Canada. Can't we celebrate both of them? Well, this guy can't -- read this -- seems someone always has to get fixated on some whining-angle. After you've finished reading, The Band encourages you to amuse yourselves by writing to the columnist and advising him to get down off his soapbobsleigh. In the best spirit of the games, of course.
One of The Band's standing dreams is to someday actually attend the games. Until then, though, we've been enjoying the Olympics courtesy of NBC. If you are too, then you've stumbled upon yet another passive means of watching way too much TV, and should check out Bernard McGrane's article, "The Zen TV Experiment" -- very interesting.
RTI -- Remember those?
[ Short for "real-time interruption" -- Ed.]
Separately, we're waiting RT for our seester to have her first baby. Niece? Or nephew??.......
2.20.2002
2.14.2002
Your Humble Chronicler was outside looking at the heavens. A pretty clear night here, and with the temp at about 36F, and almost no wind, it was a good night for looking. I know nothing about constellations -- I look, and I end up seeing things like question marks and patterns. Always interesting, though. Anyway, it reminded me of a dream I had last night.
The Dream: I'm hanging out, over at some friend's place. I'm with Ms. Fiance Muse, and two of our closest friends. We're hanging out on a balcony back porch, way high up on what appears to be some kind of small mountain. Anyway, we're hanging on this porch, and I'm experiencing a little bit of vertigo, because we're so high up, and the porch balcony isn't that big, and it's just got a wooden railing, so I'm kind of sitting with my back against the wall of the apartment building, kind of "hugging on." I get up to go to the bathroom, and Ms. Muse follows me. She would like to go, but is afraid to say anything, for some reason, and I say something like, don't be silly -- if you're ready to go, you can just say something -- I'm ok staying, but we dont have to. So we go back out on the porch, sit down again, and I just have an uneasy feeling. Then, before you know it, the whole balcony starts to kind of detach from the wall, but we're still somehow supported by some structural beams beneath us. We're firghtened, but we hang on as the balcony kind of twists and pitches forward and to the right, and basically does a slowly accelerated crash to the ground. Everyone is kind of dumped on the ground, but we aren't hurt, just shaken by the fall. I land on my feet, I think. Our biggest concern is one of our friends, who in the dream is pregnant. We're worried that something might be wrong with the baby. Nothing is resolved, and I wake up not freaked out, but in a cold sweat.
The interpretation: Well, I tried a corny online thing, but it just didn't cut it. Here's what I'm thinking. The balcony setting possibly represents recent positive accomplishments -- a sense of being on top of things. The anxiety is perhaps a fear of losing what we've achieved, which has happened to me before. The fall represents the nature of the fear -- falling from a place of status. Being with good friends may be a reminder of the good people in my life, who will stick by me regardless of what's going on. Surviving the balcony's crash may represent a sense that everything will work out in the end, whatever happens. My sister's pregnant, and was due today, actually, so the pregnant friend may represent my sister.
That's the best I can come up with. Nothing earth-shattering here, but I so rarely remember anything I dream about, and -- when I do -- generally it completely evaporates from memory unless I immediately write it down, unlike this one.
The Dream: I'm hanging out, over at some friend's place. I'm with Ms. Fiance Muse, and two of our closest friends. We're hanging out on a balcony back porch, way high up on what appears to be some kind of small mountain. Anyway, we're hanging on this porch, and I'm experiencing a little bit of vertigo, because we're so high up, and the porch balcony isn't that big, and it's just got a wooden railing, so I'm kind of sitting with my back against the wall of the apartment building, kind of "hugging on." I get up to go to the bathroom, and Ms. Muse follows me. She would like to go, but is afraid to say anything, for some reason, and I say something like, don't be silly -- if you're ready to go, you can just say something -- I'm ok staying, but we dont have to. So we go back out on the porch, sit down again, and I just have an uneasy feeling. Then, before you know it, the whole balcony starts to kind of detach from the wall, but we're still somehow supported by some structural beams beneath us. We're firghtened, but we hang on as the balcony kind of twists and pitches forward and to the right, and basically does a slowly accelerated crash to the ground. Everyone is kind of dumped on the ground, but we aren't hurt, just shaken by the fall. I land on my feet, I think. Our biggest concern is one of our friends, who in the dream is pregnant. We're worried that something might be wrong with the baby. Nothing is resolved, and I wake up not freaked out, but in a cold sweat.
The interpretation: Well, I tried a corny online thing, but it just didn't cut it. Here's what I'm thinking. The balcony setting possibly represents recent positive accomplishments -- a sense of being on top of things. The anxiety is perhaps a fear of losing what we've achieved, which has happened to me before. The fall represents the nature of the fear -- falling from a place of status. Being with good friends may be a reminder of the good people in my life, who will stick by me regardless of what's going on. Surviving the balcony's crash may represent a sense that everything will work out in the end, whatever happens. My sister's pregnant, and was due today, actually, so the pregnant friend may represent my sister.
That's the best I can come up with. Nothing earth-shattering here, but I so rarely remember anything I dream about, and -- when I do -- generally it completely evaporates from memory unless I immediately write it down, unlike this one.
R.I.P. Punk
If not deceased, then certainly the state of punk's health is at least questionable, as evidenced by the behavior of one young wannabe, who was acting out at a local Burger King:
"Fuck you, Burger King -- I hate you! You only put two onion rings on my fucking Rodeo Cheeseburger, not three! You fucking suck! You suck at cooking, you shit -- I'll fucking kill you!"
Your Humble Chronicler, mind you, was already eyeing a nice chair with which to whack our noxious child on his noisy noggin in the event of an escalation of tensions. But he simply stormed out after concluding his tirade. Most customers were merely amused.
While that incident isn't likely to make into USA Today, these did -- tales of Olympic zaniness.
If not deceased, then certainly the state of punk's health is at least questionable, as evidenced by the behavior of one young wannabe, who was acting out at a local Burger King:
"Fuck you, Burger King -- I hate you! You only put two onion rings on my fucking Rodeo Cheeseburger, not three! You fucking suck! You suck at cooking, you shit -- I'll fucking kill you!"
Your Humble Chronicler, mind you, was already eyeing a nice chair with which to whack our noxious child on his noisy noggin in the event of an escalation of tensions. But he simply stormed out after concluding his tirade. Most customers were merely amused.
While that incident isn't likely to make into USA Today, these did -- tales of Olympic zaniness.
Happy V-Day
So, um, happy valentine's day. Ok? There -- I observe it, and I don't understand it. I have learned that -- in the ever-complex dance of love, if you're a guy in a relationship (or, if I recall, even not in a relationship -- like, anything counts........though in writing this I know that I am welcoming criticism for my male version of what a relationship is, but let's not get into that semantic worm can, shall we.......) then you best buy your lover/spouse/honey/sweetie/gf/baby/friend/pookie flowers -- or you're just plain shit out of luck, dude. Trust me on this one. Oh, I can hear you now: "Oh, it's cool -- we talked about it, and decided that we wouldn't do anything big -- just have dinner or something."
Yah. Sure you did. Or, rather, sure -- you talked about it, and you both said some words, but -- trust me -- it was just sound on the other end there, pal. Sounded like agreement, sounded cool, sounded reasonable -- but keep your head -- it was just a pretty melody. Just sound.
In other words, you best buy your lover/spouse/honey/sweetie/gf/baby/friend/pookie flowers.
Oh, you laugh. Oh, you say, "Nah, thanks for the advice man, but, really -- it's cool."
Silly fool. You best buy your lover/spouse/honey/sweetie/gf/baby/friend/pookie flowers.
Yes, it's senseless, though maybe not totally meaningless. Yes it's a Hallmark holiday. Yes it's all about the sentiment ushers making a buck. Yes, you and your sweetie talked about it and agreed........yada, yada, yada.
You best buy your lover/spouse/honey/sweetie/gf/baby/friend/pookie flowers.
If you still don't get it, help is available. For nine months, and $2,300, you can enroll in Véronique J. Corniola's l'Ecole Française de Séduction, France's first school of seduction. Founder Corniola comments that modern professional women have lost their femininity, which undermines the masculinity of the contemporary male. "Here in France it is what we call castration," she says. "What do you call it in English?...I imported my husband [from Italy]," she says. "He's a real man; it was impossible to find one in France." Coming soon to the California state network. (Corniola also offers a 3-month "speed seduction course" for $1,000 -- but one has to wonder if graduates of the longer standard course have lengthier, more nerve-shaking orgasms...)
In memoriam
Waylon Jennings
So, um, happy valentine's day. Ok? There -- I observe it, and I don't understand it. I have learned that -- in the ever-complex dance of love, if you're a guy in a relationship (or, if I recall, even not in a relationship -- like, anything counts........though in writing this I know that I am welcoming criticism for my male version of what a relationship is, but let's not get into that semantic worm can, shall we.......) then you best buy your lover/spouse/honey/sweetie/gf/baby/friend/pookie flowers -- or you're just plain shit out of luck, dude. Trust me on this one. Oh, I can hear you now: "Oh, it's cool -- we talked about it, and decided that we wouldn't do anything big -- just have dinner or something."
Yah. Sure you did. Or, rather, sure -- you talked about it, and you both said some words, but -- trust me -- it was just sound on the other end there, pal. Sounded like agreement, sounded cool, sounded reasonable -- but keep your head -- it was just a pretty melody. Just sound.
In other words, you best buy your lover/spouse/honey/sweetie/gf/baby/friend/pookie flowers.
Oh, you laugh. Oh, you say, "Nah, thanks for the advice man, but, really -- it's cool."
Silly fool. You best buy your lover/spouse/honey/sweetie/gf/baby/friend/pookie flowers.
Yes, it's senseless, though maybe not totally meaningless. Yes it's a Hallmark holiday. Yes it's all about the sentiment ushers making a buck. Yes, you and your sweetie talked about it and agreed........yada, yada, yada.
You best buy your lover/spouse/honey/sweetie/gf/baby/friend/pookie flowers.
If you still don't get it, help is available. For nine months, and $2,300, you can enroll in Véronique J. Corniola's l'Ecole Française de Séduction, France's first school of seduction. Founder Corniola comments that modern professional women have lost their femininity, which undermines the masculinity of the contemporary male. "Here in France it is what we call castration," she says. "What do you call it in English?...I imported my husband [from Italy]," she says. "He's a real man; it was impossible to find one in France." Coming soon to the California state network. (Corniola also offers a 3-month "speed seduction course" for $1,000 -- but one has to wonder if graduates of the longer standard course have lengthier, more nerve-shaking orgasms...)
In memoriam
Waylon Jennings
2.13.2002
From the Department of Stalled Evolution
This kind of Draconian carp (well, I meant "crap," but I kinda like the sound of carp) does not make The Band proud of our fair state.
From correspondence with cdoa:
This: "what are we all really doing? i mean it. how are we allowing this shmuck to represent, rule, run, operate, drive, lead (?) this country? ...."
"We" would be the operative term, here, imo. I've had this debate with myself and with others -- have found that, with others, there tend to be three "camps" the ever-maddening group of people who (think they) have strong, passionate "beliefs" -- call it patriotism, call it jingo-ism, call it "my-country/religion/faith/opinion-right-or-wrong" -- I use the apostrophes around the word "belief" there because this type of blind acceptance doesn't reach the bar of what I would consider belief -- a sound opinion, based on some factual foundation. It's like the creationists believing that evolution shouldn't be taught because it conflicts with their meta-programming and, as the woman on the NPR "Religion and the Public Schools" profile said, "It's the Bible, and the Bible is God's word," followed by the nervous laughter of the speaker -- it's almost as if they know they're nuts. I swear. Change the term to "intelligent design" -- yeah, that'll make the rationalists/scientists happy......~sheesh~......Anyway, that's Camp #1, they're hopeless, imo -- the same group of people who object to posting "The Vagina Monologues" on a marquis........makes me want to drop everything and write "The Penis Prophecies" right now, just to see if anyone would object to that. Also the same group who felt that Clinton should have been impeached, based on his horn-dog issues. Whatever. Camp #2 consists of people who couldn't give a shit, one way or another, but who mask their apathy as easy-going -- the "it-doesn't-affect-my-life" crowd -- same people who haven't or are incapable of realizing that 9/11 wasn't just some tragedy in NYC, but has affected our whole nation. You, my dear, I would guess are a member of Camp #3 (maybe not, but you are decidedly *not* a member of camps 1 or 2) -- the true patriots, the real Americans who, imo, descended from the founding fathers -- us folks who truly do love our country, and who take it -- dare I say it? -- *personally* when our leaders and policies are an embarrassment to reason, fairness, justice. Strikes me as brutally ironic that those of us who really give a damn are the minority, living somewhat marginalized lives, alienated by the outdated and often draconic traditions of our culture. The so-called war on drugs. Equal rights for women, minorities, fathers, the handicapped, the mentally ill. We'll tolerate sick, evil, unproductive, polarized thinking in the form of survivalist groups, religious fanatics, right-wing fundamentalists, homophobes, bigots, anti-Semites -- all in the name of free speech. But we'll let our own unfortunate souls -- not to mention those less fortunate around the world -- to starve and freeze to death in broad daylight
It's the dark, dark downside of capitalism, I'm afraid. It works, though the traditional American dream died somewhere in the early '80's, I think. It works, but it has no place for the unfortunate, for those with limited opportunities, for anyone not cozy with lobbyists or big business. I've read lately that obesity is starting to (or already has -- I can't remember) overtaken tobacco as the leading cause of death in America. How stupid is that? Two things you can directly control -- both appetites, basically -- and we continue to let ourselves be victimized. You can be arrested for growing or possessing a couple plants, but you can buy cigarettes everywhere, and can likewise purchase and consume enough alcohol to kill yourself in one sitting. Like we pretty much *know* that cigs cause all kinds of health problems, up to and including eventual death, and that -- the further you move away from any natural, organic edible, the worse it is for you. But -- hey -- the game's on, so load up on salted snacks, processed meats and piss-water that some people like to call beer. Welcome to America.
There is some, not much at all, but some small consolation in knowing that utopias don't work, either. Nor do Communism, Socialism or anarchy, it seems.
I, for one, would rather have a salad.
This kind of Draconian carp (well, I meant "crap," but I kinda like the sound of carp) does not make The Band proud of our fair state.
From correspondence with cdoa:
This: "what are we all really doing? i mean it. how are we allowing this shmuck to represent, rule, run, operate, drive, lead (?) this country? ...."
"We" would be the operative term, here, imo. I've had this debate with myself and with others -- have found that, with others, there tend to be three "camps" the ever-maddening group of people who (think they) have strong, passionate "beliefs" -- call it patriotism, call it jingo-ism, call it "my-country/religion/faith/opinion-right-or-wrong" -- I use the apostrophes around the word "belief" there because this type of blind acceptance doesn't reach the bar of what I would consider belief -- a sound opinion, based on some factual foundation. It's like the creationists believing that evolution shouldn't be taught because it conflicts with their meta-programming and, as the woman on the NPR "Religion and the Public Schools" profile said, "It's the Bible, and the Bible is God's word," followed by the nervous laughter of the speaker -- it's almost as if they know they're nuts. I swear. Change the term to "intelligent design" -- yeah, that'll make the rationalists/scientists happy......~sheesh~......Anyway, that's Camp #1, they're hopeless, imo -- the same group of people who object to posting "The Vagina Monologues" on a marquis........makes me want to drop everything and write "The Penis Prophecies" right now, just to see if anyone would object to that. Also the same group who felt that Clinton should have been impeached, based on his horn-dog issues. Whatever. Camp #2 consists of people who couldn't give a shit, one way or another, but who mask their apathy as easy-going -- the "it-doesn't-affect-my-life" crowd -- same people who haven't or are incapable of realizing that 9/11 wasn't just some tragedy in NYC, but has affected our whole nation. You, my dear, I would guess are a member of Camp #3 (maybe not, but you are decidedly *not* a member of camps 1 or 2) -- the true patriots, the real Americans who, imo, descended from the founding fathers -- us folks who truly do love our country, and who take it -- dare I say it? -- *personally* when our leaders and policies are an embarrassment to reason, fairness, justice. Strikes me as brutally ironic that those of us who really give a damn are the minority, living somewhat marginalized lives, alienated by the outdated and often draconic traditions of our culture. The so-called war on drugs. Equal rights for women, minorities, fathers, the handicapped, the mentally ill. We'll tolerate sick, evil, unproductive, polarized thinking in the form of survivalist groups, religious fanatics, right-wing fundamentalists, homophobes, bigots, anti-Semites -- all in the name of free speech. But we'll let our own unfortunate souls -- not to mention those less fortunate around the world -- to starve and freeze to death in broad daylight
It's the dark, dark downside of capitalism, I'm afraid. It works, though the traditional American dream died somewhere in the early '80's, I think. It works, but it has no place for the unfortunate, for those with limited opportunities, for anyone not cozy with lobbyists or big business. I've read lately that obesity is starting to (or already has -- I can't remember) overtaken tobacco as the leading cause of death in America. How stupid is that? Two things you can directly control -- both appetites, basically -- and we continue to let ourselves be victimized. You can be arrested for growing or possessing a couple plants, but you can buy cigarettes everywhere, and can likewise purchase and consume enough alcohol to kill yourself in one sitting. Like we pretty much *know* that cigs cause all kinds of health problems, up to and including eventual death, and that -- the further you move away from any natural, organic edible, the worse it is for you. But -- hey -- the game's on, so load up on salted snacks, processed meats and piss-water that some people like to call beer. Welcome to America.
There is some, not much at all, but some small consolation in knowing that utopias don't work, either. Nor do Communism, Socialism or anarchy, it seems.
I, for one, would rather have a salad.
Thoughts on Olympia
Ahhh, youth, man. Elvis Stojko of Canada putting in his bid on the Olympic gold in men's figure skating as I write. And he's almost 30. Before him, American Todd Eldredge was on, and he is 30. Kind of nice to see the older athletes still kickin' it in.
When I first began watching the Olympics, I was a kid -- I can't even remember how old I was at the time. Another thing my dad gave me -- a love for the Olympics. The guy appreciated a thing done well, done right. The Olympics were one of them. Shoveling snow was another, but that's another story. (It's something odd that the writer notices, how once you use the word another, you seem to automatically follow with another phrase using another.)
So, I'm watching -- let's see -- these would be my eleventh Olympics -- though the farthest back that I can remember is Dorothy Hamill, in 1976. (The writer also here confesses that he has yet to determine the difference, if any, between furthest and farthest, though he knows that further and farther are clearly different, that further carries with it a connotation of more, greater, in addition to, while the latter condones primarily distance, a sense of space, though it too lends itself to metaphorical purpose.) And I remember Nadia Comaneci, the then 14-yr-old Romanian gymnast who landed the first perfect "10" on the parallel bars and won two gold medals in Montreal, Quebec, in the '76 Summer games. (Dorothy, a winter gamer, of course, was in Innsbruck, Austria -- had to look that up.) So, in the midst of these swirling remembrances, there's an ad for something -- I don't know what the product is -- but the theme is some young guy in a boutique trying on a really ugly sweater, some lumpy wool thing, looked hand-knitted, but badly, and of a pinkish hue speckled with darker, perhaps orange yarn, and all these dark European-style lovelies keep complimenting him on how nice the sweater looks on him, and he's real skeptical about it, because he knows it's as ugly as sin, he keeps grimacing in the mirror as the compliments flow at him like gentle kisses, and he eventually caves. He later wears the sweater out to a club, and there's a scene where his mates are at a table, hanging out, joking, ribbing each other, drinking (prolly not smoking on tv, but my brain took me back to the days when I'd meet groups of male comrades, and we'd have some pretty silly times, plain old simple drunken camraderie) -- they see their bud in his new sweater, and immediately burst into insulting laughter. Yeah......chicks'll never understand this kind of thing........
[ Go here, just because I like this blog. And this one. ]
Ahhh, youth, man. Elvis Stojko of Canada putting in his bid on the Olympic gold in men's figure skating as I write. And he's almost 30. Before him, American Todd Eldredge was on, and he is 30. Kind of nice to see the older athletes still kickin' it in.
When I first began watching the Olympics, I was a kid -- I can't even remember how old I was at the time. Another thing my dad gave me -- a love for the Olympics. The guy appreciated a thing done well, done right. The Olympics were one of them. Shoveling snow was another, but that's another story. (It's something odd that the writer notices, how once you use the word another, you seem to automatically follow with another phrase using another.)
So, I'm watching -- let's see -- these would be my eleventh Olympics -- though the farthest back that I can remember is Dorothy Hamill, in 1976. (The writer also here confesses that he has yet to determine the difference, if any, between furthest and farthest, though he knows that further and farther are clearly different, that further carries with it a connotation of more, greater, in addition to, while the latter condones primarily distance, a sense of space, though it too lends itself to metaphorical purpose.) And I remember Nadia Comaneci, the then 14-yr-old Romanian gymnast who landed the first perfect "10" on the parallel bars and won two gold medals in Montreal, Quebec, in the '76 Summer games. (Dorothy, a winter gamer, of course, was in Innsbruck, Austria -- had to look that up.) So, in the midst of these swirling remembrances, there's an ad for something -- I don't know what the product is -- but the theme is some young guy in a boutique trying on a really ugly sweater, some lumpy wool thing, looked hand-knitted, but badly, and of a pinkish hue speckled with darker, perhaps orange yarn, and all these dark European-style lovelies keep complimenting him on how nice the sweater looks on him, and he's real skeptical about it, because he knows it's as ugly as sin, he keeps grimacing in the mirror as the compliments flow at him like gentle kisses, and he eventually caves. He later wears the sweater out to a club, and there's a scene where his mates are at a table, hanging out, joking, ribbing each other, drinking (prolly not smoking on tv, but my brain took me back to the days when I'd meet groups of male comrades, and we'd have some pretty silly times, plain old simple drunken camraderie) -- they see their bud in his new sweater, and immediately burst into insulting laughter. Yeah......chicks'll never understand this kind of thing........
[ Go here, just because I like this blog. And this one. ]
2.07.2002
2.04.2002
Another Good Reason to Decriminalize Controlled Substances
Only NPR could get away with the following lead-in for an on-air story: "Americans consumed an estimated 26 million avocados on Super Bowl Sunday, mostly in the form of guacamole, according to The California Avocado Commission (CAC)." That's 13.2 million pounds of the rich, creamy, green fruit. More from the source:
Global Neural Evolution
Reminder to self: Discuss The Secret Life of the Brain as metaphor for the Earth's evolution of an external neural network (internet) as a means of building in connectivity of inhabitants of the planet.
Also -- it seems that Stalin (yes, the old evil dead bastard) has a hand to play in the whole Mid-Eastern mess, as the borders that he established after 1927 criss-cross the Fergana Valley as it winds through Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan -- Stalin's goal was to fragment the region (central Asia) as much as possible, further complicating the possibility of establishing any semblance of logical geographic gov't to take place, according to author of Taliban and Jihad, Ahmed Rashid, who was interviewed on NPR's Fresh Air (with host Terry Gross). "Difficult, impractical, debilitating," he says of the borders. What a tangled web is history.
Another dumb online survey: Which drink are you?
Scary conspiracy stuff: From The Wilderness Publications
Interesting cynical thoughts blog: the angry librarian
Only NPR could get away with the following lead-in for an on-air story: "Americans consumed an estimated 26 million avocados on Super Bowl Sunday, mostly in the form of guacamole, according to The California Avocado Commission (CAC)." That's 13.2 million pounds of the rich, creamy, green fruit. More from the source:
- "The avocado tree is related to the laurel and is the fruit of the genus Persea....a bright green tree that grows from Mexico, south to Colombia and Peru, and north to Florida and California. The three strains of avocados that now exist...Mexican, West Indian and Guatemalan...were first catalogued in 1653 by a Spanish padre named Bernabe Cobo. These strains included hundreds of avocado varieties which come in sundry shapes...round, pyriform (pear-shaped), crooknecked (like a squash); skin colors...green, purple, maroon, and jet black; and skin textures...smooth to pebbly.
This fruit of the New World has been known by many names. In Chile, Peru, and Ecuador it is called Palta, the name given to it by the Incas. In West Africa, it is called custard apple. In Spain it is known as abogado; in France, avocat. The latter two names, both of which mean lawyer, and the English word avocado have probably all derived from attempts to speak phonetically the Aztec name ahuacatl."
Global Neural Evolution
Reminder to self: Discuss The Secret Life of the Brain as metaphor for the Earth's evolution of an external neural network (internet) as a means of building in connectivity of inhabitants of the planet.
Also -- it seems that Stalin (yes, the old evil dead bastard) has a hand to play in the whole Mid-Eastern mess, as the borders that he established after 1927 criss-cross the Fergana Valley as it winds through Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan -- Stalin's goal was to fragment the region (central Asia) as much as possible, further complicating the possibility of establishing any semblance of logical geographic gov't to take place, according to author of Taliban and Jihad, Ahmed Rashid, who was interviewed on NPR's Fresh Air (with host Terry Gross). "Difficult, impractical, debilitating," he says of the borders. What a tangled web is history.
Another dumb online survey: Which drink are you?
Scary conspiracy stuff: From The Wilderness Publications
Interesting cynical thoughts blog: the angry librarian
1.29.2002
Boring
Dropped off the dry cleaning on my way in this morning, and sat at a light behind a light pick-up whose back window featured the following stickers:
Vote Bush / Cheney
NRA
All things are possible under God
Bring the Integrity Back to the Whitehouse
Oi vay. I s'pose PBS's 5-part series on The Secret Life of the Brain will get pre-empted by the state of the union address.
Like, is anyone else out there surprised that we haven't yet seen a new piece on how the former Clinton administration would have handled this whole terrorism situation? Or how Al Gore would have handled it, had he been elected?
Odd
The Band just learned that Your Humble Chronicler is worth "exactly $2,115,470.00." Yes, it really says "exactly," and, no -- we don't have any idea how they calculated that.
Update
Just sent Ev. the $35 annual fee for Blogger Pro. The Band figures it's worth it, even if it takes us awhile to make widescale improvements around here. Besides, this here Bitchin' Hats site is pushing two years -- same blog-channel, same blog-place -- and we'd hate to lose it. (How long have you been blogging??...)
Plus we're just darned fond of Blogger. And it'll match our t-shirt.
Dropped off the dry cleaning on my way in this morning, and sat at a light behind a light pick-up whose back window featured the following stickers:
Oi vay. I s'pose PBS's 5-part series on The Secret Life of the Brain will get pre-empted by the state of the union address.
Like, is anyone else out there surprised that we haven't yet seen a new piece on how the former Clinton administration would have handled this whole terrorism situation? Or how Al Gore would have handled it, had he been elected?
Odd
The Band just learned that Your Humble Chronicler is worth "exactly $2,115,470.00." Yes, it really says "exactly," and, no -- we don't have any idea how they calculated that.
Update
Just sent Ev. the $35 annual fee for Blogger Pro. The Band figures it's worth it, even if it takes us awhile to make widescale improvements around here. Besides, this here Bitchin' Hats site is pushing two years -- same blog-channel, same blog-place -- and we'd hate to lose it. (How long have you been blogging??...)
Plus we're just darned fond of Blogger. And it'll match our t-shirt.
1.25.2002
Isn't it Enronic?
Ooh. Accountants at Arthur Andersen doing creative accounting. What a concept.
Speaking of concepts -- sad to see the Catholic Church in the news in such a shitty light. Can't say that we're suprised. Now, lest all you faithful followers out there get yer p(R)anti(l)es in a wad, know that The Band is a product of twelve full years of Catholic schooling. Wasn't until Your Humble Chronicler began to study the roots of Catholicism and theology as an undergrad at Case Western Reserve University that we learned that we had, in the lingo of the Church, "fallen fully and wholly away from the Catholic and Apostolic faith." (Thinking back -- aside from some personal opinions that birth control simply makes sense and that homosexual relationships aren't "unnatural" -- we recall that the specific criterion for our personal fall from grace was our skepticism over such miracles as The Ascension and The Assumption; to be a Catholic, according to Church doctrine, you must accept wholly a belief in these and other miracles. We know it wasn't about premarital sex, because -- with the exception of many hours of lip-locking and some well-intentioned heavy petting, we lost our cherry way later than we like to admit -- likely a result, in part, of the aforementioned twelve years of programming. Not that we're bitter; in fact, we like to think that the years of deprivation of the Sweeter Fruits engendered a strong sensual imagination. Though we must confess that we still harbor a few hazy memories of some long-lost (then) young hotties who, if we knew then what we know now..... - Ed.) Anyway -- we share this because we believe that the only legitimate critics are those individuals with first-hand experience. So, we speak here as former Catholics, and not as is so often the case as non/never-been-Catholics who have a marked lack of understanding about the history and traditions of Catholicism.
That being said, we're fairly certain that the recent media attention to the latest example of a priest being evil will not help matters. However, the Church has a long-standing tradition and firmly established practice of not helping itself. To cite a few examples:
The Catholic faith teaches that priests are shepherds of the flock, and encourages the faithful to turn to the individual priests assigned to their parishes as spiritual guides and sources of wise advice. We've never understood how followers could, with any sense of confidence, could turn to their priests for marital or relationship advice, when one of the criteria for priesthood is celibacy, which pretty much takes these guys out of the experience loop, as far as the Mysterious Dance of Love Between Mortals goes. In other words, when you're planning a wilderness adventure, you don't turn to an inveterate city dweller for survival tips.
The Band recommends: Priests should be permitted to have personal relationships, including getting married and having families. Most other faiths have already come to terms with and accepted this as a good idea for their spiritual leaders. Rabbis have wives and families and kids -- and even businesses. In a world where so much unhappiness stems from misunderstandings over love or money, believers should be able to turn to leaders who can speak from experience. Furthermore, in light of the sexual dysfunction so rampant within the ranks of the Church, permitting priests to have normal intimate relationships could go a long way towards reducing the Draconian repression of nature.
For quite a number of years -- decades, even -- the Church has faced a personnel crisis. There aren't enough priests available to serve the willing faithful. Yet, as an organization, it continues to limit its prospects for recovery, let alone growth, by eliminating half of its applicant pool -- say it with us, folks -- women -- from the mix. When women are permitted to participate, it is in the roles of nuns and sisters -- roles which are subservient to priests. Perhaps not so much by design as by tradition, women who take the vow are permitted to participate in the ritual of The Mass, but they are restricted from being able to administer the seven holy Sacraments. This flies in the face of what Mary Magdalene was all about, let alone others who come to mind -- Edith Stein, Hildegarde of Bingen and Joan of Arc, not to mention Mother Theresa.
The Band recommends: Open the priesthood ranks to women.
With the exception pehaps of the Jesuit order (members of which are required to study for, like, 16 years before earning their license), the Church is rife with priests/leaders who themselves seem to either not understand theology or to be so frightened and intimidated by the complementary concepts of personal freedom and individual responsibility that they routinely mislead their parishioners/followers. Misinformation about Catholicism is rampant among practicing Catholics. It's no wonder that non-Catholics so often have warped views of Catholics -- at least they have a viable excuse for their misunderstanding. Couple of examples:
And study, damn it.
Ooh. Accountants at Arthur Andersen doing creative accounting. What a concept.
Speaking of concepts -- sad to see the Catholic Church in the news in such a shitty light. Can't say that we're suprised. Now, lest all you faithful followers out there get yer p(R)anti(l)es in a wad, know that The Band is a product of twelve full years of Catholic schooling. Wasn't until Your Humble Chronicler began to study the roots of Catholicism and theology as an undergrad at Case Western Reserve University that we learned that we had, in the lingo of the Church, "fallen fully and wholly away from the Catholic and Apostolic faith." (Thinking back -- aside from some personal opinions that birth control simply makes sense and that homosexual relationships aren't "unnatural" -- we recall that the specific criterion for our personal fall from grace was our skepticism over such miracles as The Ascension and The Assumption; to be a Catholic, according to Church doctrine, you must accept wholly a belief in these and other miracles. We know it wasn't about premarital sex, because -- with the exception of many hours of lip-locking and some well-intentioned heavy petting, we lost our cherry way later than we like to admit -- likely a result, in part, of the aforementioned twelve years of programming. Not that we're bitter; in fact, we like to think that the years of deprivation of the Sweeter Fruits engendered a strong sensual imagination. Though we must confess that we still harbor a few hazy memories of some long-lost (then) young hotties who, if we knew then what we know now..... - Ed.) Anyway -- we share this because we believe that the only legitimate critics are those individuals with first-hand experience. So, we speak here as former Catholics, and not as is so often the case as non/never-been-Catholics who have a marked lack of understanding about the history and traditions of Catholicism.
That being said, we're fairly certain that the recent media attention to the latest example of a priest being evil will not help matters. However, the Church has a long-standing tradition and firmly established practice of not helping itself. To cite a few examples:
The Band recommends: Priests should be permitted to have personal relationships, including getting married and having families. Most other faiths have already come to terms with and accepted this as a good idea for their spiritual leaders. Rabbis have wives and families and kids -- and even businesses. In a world where so much unhappiness stems from misunderstandings over love or money, believers should be able to turn to leaders who can speak from experience. Furthermore, in light of the sexual dysfunction so rampant within the ranks of the Church, permitting priests to have normal intimate relationships could go a long way towards reducing the Draconian repression of nature.
The Band recommends: Open the priesthood ranks to women.
- Traditional Catholics widely believe in what's technically called papal infallibility, which is a belief that the Pope is never wrong, because whatever Il Papa says is Divinely Inspired. Since the established Rules of Engagement between God(s) and (hu)Man(s) dictate that the gods are always right ("As Flies to wanton Boyes, are we to th' Gods,/They kill us for their sport" - King Lear), then, whatever the Pope says cannot be wrong. This is inaccurate. Church doctrine states that, as the leader of the Church, the official Head Shepherd, the Pope has an obligation to his flock to provide sound and humane guidance. When an issue is so complex (abortion, euthanasia, peace on Earth) that it can't be left to priests, pastors, bishops or cardinals to decide, and if within the Church itself there exist so many dissenting opinions that the Pope's involvement is required, then the protocol is that the final ruling will lie with the Pope. It is important here to note that the Catholic Church, in such matters, very closely follows a "rule of law" model. In other words, it takes the long view, and tries to stay true to its mission. For instance, the Church's stance on birth control flows from a belief that only God has the power to determine when a human soul comes into existence, and when that soul takes the long flight home. It truly believes that, if it were to give responsible birth control the green light, then it isn't inconceivable that, way down the line, it'll be held to that same standard on other issues: If we say it's ok for wo/men to decide when a new life is conceived, then we wrest that power from God, and, once we do that, it's all downhill from there. When the Pope makes such a decision, he will issue what is called a papal encyclical, which is basically an official communication from the Vatican in Rome, HQ of the Holy See. These encyclicals (of which there are many, and some of them are quite good -- John XXIII's Pacem in Terris comes to mind) take the form of a holy press release, kind of, but with more weight......more like a real serious corporate memo. Anyway -- papal infallibilty simply means, according to Church doctrine, that -- when the Pope issues an opinion -- it's probably a pretty good and thoughtful opinion. It means that he has consulted with experts and spiritual leaders, and has devoted a great deal of his time and energy to private, quiet, solemn contemplation of the issue, and, at the time that he releases his decision to the public, it is his best effort. In other words, he might not be 100% right, but he's fairly certain that his opinion won't be totally bogus.
- Another huge misconception -- again widely adhered to by a large percentage of the sheep who make it a regular practice to check in at the main barn every Sunday and on designated Holy Days -- is that the Church has rules and, if you don't follow them, then as a Catholic you suck, and as a human you're prolly gonna land yourself in Hell. This again is an inaccurate representation of the Church's views on a major concept. There is within the Catholic faith a basic Christian tenet that "Man is free until it is determined that he is bound." (This may come straight from the writings of Thomas Aquinas, but I'm not certain. Could be Heidegger. Maybe Kierkegaard. - Ed.) What this means, in a nutshell, is that humans are free to live their lives in whatever way they choose, as long as they do not cause harm or hurt to other humans. If you can't do this, says the Church, then we have some rules that you can follow and, if you adhere to them, you'll probably live a decent life. If, however, you're comfortable troubleshooting your own attempt at existence and you have a solid, humane and forgiving belief system which serves as your personal worldview and to which you adhere as a core philosophy which influences and instructs all of your life choices -- again, with the understanding that none of your choices will harm yourself or anyone else -- then you're perfectly free to do it your way, Mr. Sinatra. But, if you can't, we'll provide a handbook that will keep you out of trouble.
And study, damn it.
1.23.2002
A Flickering Blue Light
In light of the disarray over at Kmart, The Band here hazards a guess that Martha Stewart's dance card may be starting to fill up, perhaps with the likes of Target or Wal-Mart, who no doubt would love to sink their icy retail claws into her prodigious Connecticut spice garden. Or dip their huckster wicks into her bountiful cornucopia of accessorized domesticity. Or drink deeply from her lushly appointed cup of abundance, perhaps? Something like that. Suffice it to say that there's some salivation going on in the La-La Land of Product Licensing. (Here in Band-land, we must confess that we've never quite been able to connect the metaphorical "discount superstore" and "designer-label" dots. Still seems a bit of a stretch to us. And we could've sworn that Target had already reserved a seat on Martha's taffeta-draped seasonal bandwagon of comfort.)
At present, the Domestic Dominatrix and Diva -- here described by Barbara Lippert as "the Ralph Lauren of home entertaining" (this article also includes some amusing thoughts on the Martha Stewart-Katie Couric dynamic) -- has this to say: "We remain optimistic that Kmart, our long-time domestic mass-market merchandising retail partner, will ultimately emerge from this situation as a stronger, more competitive company in keeping with its proud heritage." (Go here for the official Martha paper.)
When you've had enough of that, check out some darker notions in home decor, reputedly inspired by Martha nonetheless.
It's a good thing.
In light of the disarray over at Kmart, The Band here hazards a guess that Martha Stewart's dance card may be starting to fill up, perhaps with the likes of Target or Wal-Mart, who no doubt would love to sink their icy retail claws into her prodigious Connecticut spice garden. Or dip their huckster wicks into her bountiful cornucopia of accessorized domesticity. Or drink deeply from her lushly appointed cup of abundance, perhaps? Something like that. Suffice it to say that there's some salivation going on in the La-La Land of Product Licensing. (Here in Band-land, we must confess that we've never quite been able to connect the metaphorical "discount superstore" and "designer-label" dots. Still seems a bit of a stretch to us. And we could've sworn that Target had already reserved a seat on Martha's taffeta-draped seasonal bandwagon of comfort.)
At present, the Domestic Dominatrix and Diva -- here described by Barbara Lippert as "the Ralph Lauren of home entertaining" (this article also includes some amusing thoughts on the Martha Stewart-Katie Couric dynamic) -- has this to say: "We remain optimistic that Kmart, our long-time domestic mass-market merchandising retail partner, will ultimately emerge from this situation as a stronger, more competitive company in keeping with its proud heritage." (Go here for the official Martha paper.)
When you've had enough of that, check out some darker notions in home decor, reputedly inspired by Martha nonetheless.
It's a good thing.
1.22.2002
Yet One More Reason
To despise the practices of the Taliban. Seems that oppressing people and blowing up religio-cultural icons just wasn't enough for the barbarians.
To despise the practices of the Taliban. Seems that oppressing people and blowing up religio-cultural icons just wasn't enough for the barbarians.
Better Outlook
So, the only sighting during the drive in this morning was what appeared to be a discarded bathmat, or something.
Metaprogramming Tends to be Subtle
Noticed that "Ramada Inn" is not far off from "Ramadan." Also that just there's just a one letter difference between fiance and finance.
So, the only sighting during the drive in this morning was what appeared to be a discarded bathmat, or something.
Metaprogramming Tends to be Subtle
Noticed that "Ramada Inn" is not far off from "Ramadan." Also that just there's just a one letter difference between fiance and finance.
1.17.2002
Peevishness in 2002
We report that our New Year's Resolution of many moons ago to not make New Year's Resolutions still stands.
Instead, The Band wishes to share its latest pet peeves:
Office politiks -- because they suck, in general and, more to the point, they illustrate daily -- if not minute by passing minute -- most and sometimes all of humanity's ugly insecurities. (BTW -- if you haven't lately, visit lola, who is a veritable fountain of introspection.)
People and groups who refer to new choices as additional burdens, instead of additional responsibilities.
TOP 40 RADIO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Non-news stories that are reported as if they are news (see: the weather on any given day)
Slow downloads
Winter
War
That no major phone company, to the best of our knowledge, has yet realized that if they would package a land line, long distance, a cell phone, CATV and DSL service together, for a reasonable price, like say $50/mo, everyone would buy it.
Outdated traditions, in all their forms.
People who get pets and then treat them as if they are stuffed animals, instead of living creatures.
When partners insist that when they begin to fade at day's end they simply can't turn in w/out you.
More as they occur to us.
We report that our New Year's Resolution of many moons ago to not make New Year's Resolutions still stands.
Instead, The Band wishes to share its latest pet peeves:
More as they occur to us.
1.15.2002
More from Kesey
Quoting John Madden: "There've been a lot more people hurt on astro-turf than grass."
Many like-spirited links to follow over at disinformation in this article on Entheobotany 2001.
Way too much roadkill on the way in this morning -- saw two racoons, a squirrel and a skunk. How hard is it to not run over creatures? I think, in my lifetime, I've hit one small bird -- and experienced two weeks of bad karmic results from it, including not getting a job I was interviewing for at the time. Be careful out there on the roads, people -- pay attention.
Quoting John Madden: "There've been a lot more people hurt on astro-turf than grass."
Many like-spirited links to follow over at disinformation in this article on Entheobotany 2001.
Way too much roadkill on the way in this morning -- saw two racoons, a squirrel and a skunk. How hard is it to not run over creatures? I think, in my lifetime, I've hit one small bird -- and experienced two weeks of bad karmic results from it, including not getting a job I was interviewing for at the time. Be careful out there on the roads, people -- pay attention.
1.14.2002
Does it come as any suprise...
...that perhaps the greatest threat to modern democracy takes the form of professional sports and junk food??
...that perhaps the greatest threat to modern democracy takes the form of professional sports and junk food??
1.10.2002
Realization
The following thought occurred to your Humble Chronicler this morning: Politics -- be they personal, professional or otherwise -- are borne out of an environment in which people with different opinions attempt to use facts or to bend and distort the truth in a competition to affect the acceptance of their preferred version of reality in order to establish, consolidate or broaden inflence or power. Your comments? -- use the message board.
And -- of course -- feel free to quote me.
Some Anthropomorphic Thoughts on the Fate of the Middle East
Given that "middle eastern peace" remains one of the top oxymorons of all time, is it perhaps possible that there's just no hope of peace ever in the region? History would seem to indicate this, as the region has existed in a perenial state of war as far back as I can remember. (Not to mention that it seems to be quite a breeding ground for particularly dangerous and twisted individuals.)
It's all very confusing, particularly (imo) in light of the fact that -- if you've delved at all into learning about other religions -- they all, or most of them at least, seem to boil down to the same thing. Chrisitianity, Islam, Buddhism, Judaism, Catholicism -- all seem to work, at root, under some similar basic assumptions -- a belief or sense that we (humans, earthlings, followers) are probably not alone "out here," a willingness to accept the concept/idea of a higher power or some form of energy that links us all together, and a general philosophy that, if you adhere to a way of life that embraces an acceptance of differences and respect and love for the planet and our fellow inhabitants thereof, you'll generally be ok.
I am routinely upbraided for oversimplifying, yes. But, really -- no world religions or faith of which I'm aware espouses killing people in anyone's name.
We'll argue that sometimes simplification is the answer.
So, for purposes of this discussion, suspend, if you will, your cynicism, atheism, agnosticism or any other such form of disbelief and assume that there may be a God, or many gods, and that the historical figure known as Jesus Christ was indeed the son of the God of the Jews and Catholics. If you were this God, and your son was executed, wouldn't you be infinitely, universally and cosmically heartbroken and pissed off? Even if it was your plan? And, as a heartbroken and outraged God, what would stop you from damning the region forever, as some kind of gateway leading directly into hell? Perhaps the storm that followed Christ's crucifixion according to New Testament accounts was intended as a warning to the "chosen ones"? Sort of along the lines of this: (God speaking) "Ok humans -- I created you in my own image, and fashioned a paradise where you could live. You betrayed me with your selfishness, and fucked it up. Prolly my fault, because I created you, after all (perhaps the orign of the notion of beta testing), so I sent my own son down there to save your sorry asses. So, that's done. Now get the fuck out of here. This land no longer belongs to you. It belongs to my memory."
Perhaps some apocraphyl biblical texts include this scenario -- I don't know -- I haven't seen them, if they do.
Do unto others. Thou shalt not kill. Love thy neighbor as thyself. How hard, really, is that to understand? Is this at all conceivable, or are these just the vacuous thoughts of a habitual oversimplifier? Am I grasping at blasphemous straws?
What are your thoughts??
The following thought occurred to your Humble Chronicler this morning: Politics -- be they personal, professional or otherwise -- are borne out of an environment in which people with different opinions attempt to use facts or to bend and distort the truth in a competition to affect the acceptance of their preferred version of reality in order to establish, consolidate or broaden inflence or power. Your comments? -- use the message board.
And -- of course -- feel free to quote me.
Some Anthropomorphic Thoughts on the Fate of the Middle East
Given that "middle eastern peace" remains one of the top oxymorons of all time, is it perhaps possible that there's just no hope of peace ever in the region? History would seem to indicate this, as the region has existed in a perenial state of war as far back as I can remember. (Not to mention that it seems to be quite a breeding ground for particularly dangerous and twisted individuals.)
It's all very confusing, particularly (imo) in light of the fact that -- if you've delved at all into learning about other religions -- they all, or most of them at least, seem to boil down to the same thing. Chrisitianity, Islam, Buddhism, Judaism, Catholicism -- all seem to work, at root, under some similar basic assumptions -- a belief or sense that we (humans, earthlings, followers) are probably not alone "out here," a willingness to accept the concept/idea of a higher power or some form of energy that links us all together, and a general philosophy that, if you adhere to a way of life that embraces an acceptance of differences and respect and love for the planet and our fellow inhabitants thereof, you'll generally be ok.
I am routinely upbraided for oversimplifying, yes. But, really -- no world religions or faith of which I'm aware espouses killing people in anyone's name.
We'll argue that sometimes simplification is the answer.
So, for purposes of this discussion, suspend, if you will, your cynicism, atheism, agnosticism or any other such form of disbelief and assume that there may be a God, or many gods, and that the historical figure known as Jesus Christ was indeed the son of the God of the Jews and Catholics. If you were this God, and your son was executed, wouldn't you be infinitely, universally and cosmically heartbroken and pissed off? Even if it was your plan? And, as a heartbroken and outraged God, what would stop you from damning the region forever, as some kind of gateway leading directly into hell? Perhaps the storm that followed Christ's crucifixion according to New Testament accounts was intended as a warning to the "chosen ones"? Sort of along the lines of this: (God speaking) "Ok humans -- I created you in my own image, and fashioned a paradise where you could live. You betrayed me with your selfishness, and fucked it up. Prolly my fault, because I created you, after all (perhaps the orign of the notion of beta testing), so I sent my own son down there to save your sorry asses. So, that's done. Now get the fuck out of here. This land no longer belongs to you. It belongs to my memory."
Perhaps some apocraphyl biblical texts include this scenario -- I don't know -- I haven't seen them, if they do.
Do unto others. Thou shalt not kill. Love thy neighbor as thyself. How hard, really, is that to understand? Is this at all conceivable, or are these just the vacuous thoughts of a habitual oversimplifier? Am I grasping at blasphemous straws?
What are your thoughts??
1.07.2002
1.04.2002
Cat 48
- The two digit catastrophe serial numbers are assigned by the Catastrophe Service Division of Property Claims Services (PCS) which is a dvision of ISO (Insurance Service Office) which serves the insurance industry and carriers.
PCS assigns to each catastrophe a serial number recognized throughout the industry. Use of this number permits insurers and reinsurers to track reserves and losses to a single discrete event. It is also important for triggering reinsurance coverages under many contracts. Before assigning a serial number, PCS investigates each disaster and determines whether the insurable damage will meet the catastrophe definition. That definition is $25 million in insured damage involving a large number of policyholders and insurers.
The only national cat codes assigned are from the PCS Division of ISO in New Jersey. They assign cat codes when an "incident" is of the magnitude that they consider to be a significant event.
The most recent were NYC, Cat 48, and TS "Gabrielle" Cat 49.
Many companies will assign a cat code to an event that occurs in an area, or even a sequence of events closely related. It is not uncommon for there to be cat codes for the same event, in the same state, to be of different numbers, letters or designations. All that is up to the respective companies."