Blog Collective

Wow

2008-02-02T20:06:00.000-06:00

I haven't been here in a while. Apparently, no one else has, either.

Joe - I'm stunned! I always thought it would be tremendously difficult to part with your sperm in such a way, no?

(How sad is this. I am commenting on a post from 3 years ago.... yikes! The little Joes could be mobile by now!)

Pretty pretty:::::::::::::::

2006-06-02T18:23:00.000-05:00

June and July are busy gift-buying months for me. There are the family birthdays, a couple of graduations this year and two wedding showers to attend.

Jewelry is always a good choice [it's been scientifically proven that it is impossible to have too many pairs of earrings]. They've got to be special earrings, though..nothing you can pick up on any street corner or department store counter.

Aussie-turned-LA jewelry designer Victoria Button's work combines prettiness, good design and affordability--along with a slightly subversive sense of humor. I like her "Knit--The Necklace", which combines images from vintage knitting catalogs. The "Shop-Aholic" earrings are part semi- precious stones; part [parts] of plastic frequent shopping cards.

Order online at: www.OriginalJewels.com

The Beany

2006-05-16T19:00:00.000-05:00

My Internet friend Michael Nobbs lives in a town in Wales that's impossible to pronounce. I can't remember exactly where we met [I think it was via Danny Gregory's blog. In any case, I've been enjoying his blog and his 'blog-in-print' The Beany for quite a while.

One of Michael's gifts is the ability to discover the special in the ordinary. His life isn't very dramatic, mostly sketching, drinking tea and dealing with a chronic disease. The Beany offers what the best writing does: a glimpse into the life of another. Read The Beany and you'll feel as if you have a friend in an unpronounceable Welsh town.

http://www.michaelnobbs.com/blog.html

A Jew Walks Into a Bookstore:::

2006-02-23T13:38:00.000-06:00

Brenda Coulter’s blog ‘No Rules. Just Write’ http://brendacoulter.blogspot.com
is one of my favorite stops in the blogosphere, and where I heard about her plan to blog-promote her second novel A Family Forever http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0373873581, I signed on.

I write romance [not published—yet] and I read a lot of romance, but this is the first inspirational novel I’ve ever read in full. I’m Jewish and inspirationals are targeted to Christians—primarily evangelical/born again Christians. I was interested to see if an inspirational could hold my interest strictly as a novel or whether the Christianity was so much a part of it that t couldn’t be ignored. Could the romance trump Jesus for a non-believer reader?

I found it could, mostly. I cared about the heroine and hero, even though their predicament seemed slightly implausible. When Shelby Franklin’s fiancé David is killed just three weeks prior to their wedding, his brother Tucker does the ‘honorable’ thing and marries her, even though Shelby agrees to a MINO [Marriage in name only]. This is because Shelby is pregnant—the result of the single time she and David were intimate. To me, that sounds like a scenario out of the 50’s, but apparently it resonates for evangelical readers.

Eventually, Shelby learns to love Tucker for himself. He’s loved her all along. There’s an HEA [Happily Ever After] ending, something all romance genres and sub-genres share. If you don’t get that, you’re not a romance reader.

I liked this book and I'm glad I took the time to read it. Brenda has a light and engaging style, and a gift for creating characters you care about.

Brenda’s website is http://brendacoulter.com/

Photo Friday: B A B Y

2006-02-18T13:55:00.000-06:00

I know, I know…there are people who thing the only real babies are the human kind. I respectfully disagree. This is mine.

'If you want a friend, get a dog.'

--Harry Truman

Photo Friday: {B L U R}}}}

2006-02-12T23:02:00.000-06:00

I’m terribly nearsighted, so much of what I see when my glasses are off is a blur. I don’t mind, most of the time.

In the case, the blurriness is the algae’s fault.

Photo Friday [Disguise]

2006-02-04T14:37:00.000-06:00

These pear blossoms fall from the tree, drift off and cover the sidewalks and lawns and driveways of Southern California suburbia. They look like snowflakes.

(For Photo Friday: Disguise.)

Vanity [Photo Friday]

2006-02-01T14:20:00.000-06:00

A few items from the pile of stuff that I buy [and sometimes use] in an attempt to look 'better'.

Better than what?

Better than I look without the stuff.

(For Photo Friday: Vanity.)

Pinkish pink.

2006-01-21T14:15:00.000-06:00

Photo Friday's theme this week is Pink. This is some sort of plant growing in an ordinary yard of an ordinary house on an ordinary street in suburbia, U.S.A.

It seems that the Internet has made us all artists. That's a good thing, I suppose.

Coming back?

2006-01-19T18:00:00.000-06:00

Hope so.

It's hard to tell/when you're in the spell/if it's wrong or if it's real:::::::::::

2006-01-13T13:32:00.000-06:00

Yes, I plead guilty to listening to Joni Mitchell. It's a girl thing, and I've been doing it since 1968. I've gone from LPs to 8-tracks to cassettes to CDs to Napster, but I'm still listening to Carey and Big Yellow Taxi andWilly. [My ex-husband's name is Willie, and he's a lot like the man in Joni's song ['an ancient injury that had not healed...'].

A new year.

2006-01-03T18:55:00.000-06:00

Feliz ano nuevo from Joy and Orla Bean. We've been awfully busy, but promise to post more regularly.

2005-12-03T21:41:00.000-06:00

Cesspools of evil and sin.

2005-10-05T22:59:00.000-05:00

I'm still convinced that there are hidden areas beneath New York city filled with gatherings for secret cults and rituals, or grounds for the rendezvous of otherworldly beings, or dirty cesspools of evil and sin deviantly practiced by humans so perverse and deranged that only a civilized society could create them. Personally, this doesn't trouble me. I admit, I'm not really bothered by evil and sin, so long as it doesn't affect me. If these evil cults try to capture me and put me on an arcane stone altar and try to impale me through the chest with some sort of sado-phallic torture wand, then the evil has become personal and I do take their very presence as a personal affront. But fortunately for me being neither female nor virgin, I am a less popular victim. Because most underground cults and satanic paganists (or other worshippers of evil superbeings and Lovecraftian deities) have remained fairly insulated from the recent advances in equal rights and feminism, they tend still to be patriarchal, androcentric organizations. As well, because they have been insulated themselves from much of the post-modern and pre-existential dissimulations and deconstructions of traditional metaphysics, they still hold on to a rather dated notion of purity and its respective superiority over impurity. Hence, this explains their predilections, still extant after all these years, for female virgin sacrifices. So, unless there's some radical questioning of their traditional values in their ranks and they start to believe that the elimination of female virgins is a terrible waste since there really aren't enough to go around (and there seem to get fewer and fewer and younger and younger as the years go by) and they instead start pursuing, for their sacrifices, ugly white guys who've barely had enough sex to make them not virgins (which makes a lot more sense), then I'm safe, and I don't have to fret myself over the spreading pestilence of evil brewing just below the sidewalk. So, as long as unlikely change in victims occurs, the evil is just something to think about when you're sitting down counting your change and a quarter falls out of your hand and rolls down the sidewalk and falls into a grate and you can see where it lands and think to yourself, "if I put my whole arm through that grate, I can just reach it." I, personally, would let the quarter go, and would consider it as an offering to one of those indifferent super-beings that occasionally pass into our world and reek havoc on small New England towns. Maybe these beings will, in fact, not look derisively down upon our primitive form of exchange through currency made of cheap metal, and will in fact take it as a symbolic token of appreciation so that one day when Manhattan is being callously trampled upon by an other-dimensional being in a spirit of playful abandon akin to an eight-year-old destroying an ant hill, then this thing will see me and remember the quarter and step over me instead of upon me. You never know.
(Image Source.)

I Don't Think So [Britney]

2005-10-05T13:12:00.000-05:00

I was reading a copy of Allure magazine in a doctor's waiting room last week. Talentless skank Britney Spears was on the cover. I know, I should have stopped reading. I know I shouldn't have read the page about what she said at the photo shoot. I know I should have, but I didn't. I know I shouldn't care that she's quoted as saying 'I don't think so...' when a Johnny Cash CD was played.

Just wait Britney. Just wait.

My Sperm

2005-09-19T15:33:00.000-05:00

Recently I took it upon myself to look into this issue of sperm donation. Some surprising things emerged from my investigation. First of all, I discovered that the process of becoming a sperm donor is a rigorous and selective process tantamount the rigors of applying to graduate school in philosophy; except where a grad school will judge you on your skills at writing academic papers, looking closely into philosophical thought, and sycophancy, a fertility clinic will test you on your sperms general vitality (quantity, motility, ability to be frozen and thawed), your overall health, and your genes. Similar to grad school they only accept about 5% of their applicants, and, like grad school, only the best are even applying. In order to apply, you have to be tall enough (preferably 5'10" and over), you must have no venereal diseases (or, preferably, diseases in general), you must be young (obviously you must be over 18, but you probably don't want to be much past the age of 30), and you must be male (though I suppose if you were a female who was able to produce sperm, they might be interested in you).

Now, I write this in preface and stress that the rigors of sperm donation application require you to have the virility of a frothing bull and the health of a Greek god, precisely to accentuate my level of gloating. Yes, I've applied. And, no, I haven't passed all of the tests, but I passed that oh so critical first one: the one in which you deposit you're sperm into a cup and they look at it minutely and decide whether it can find and penetrate a certain tiny little egg in the dark. Maybe you all think it a broach of good taste that I should boast so pompously brag about something which is best left to bedroom conversation ("you know honey, it just lacks the bold complexity and subtle mix of flavors that my last boyfriend's had"), and that I should stop it right here. But I can't contain my joy. I want to sound my barbaric rawp over the rooftops of the world, I'm so gleeful. This is such a boost to my ego. I wish there was like a shirt I could wear that would announce to women my general vitality and vigor: "The few, the proud, the SPERM DONORS." Or if I could start a club, a fraternity of other men who are themselves of this elite clique.

I only went in for the first step of my pre-screening last Wednesday, but I've entertained this idea for a long time. Ridg himself can attest that I openly admitted at Goucher that I liked the idea of becoming a sperm donor so that there might be as many as possible of my genetic kindred running around. Now I realize the folly of my waiting so long. Whereas, I could have, if I had acted upon that thought immediately, actually managed to donate at quite of number of different clinics in cities across the country (Baltimore, Houston, Denver, San Francisco, Albuquerque), nay even in countries all over Europe. I could by this time have dozens of little Joe's running around wondering about their true father, and deep in their heart aching after me to complete them. And then I could, through subtlety and subterfuge somehow manage to contact them after they have grown and one day call them all together to fulfill that purpose which they've always felt but never been quite able to put into words, forming a small army of philosophy geniuses, yearning for the opportunity to unite with me in taking over the world. But, I've waited too long. My sperm are only good for a few more years and I may just have to settle for a modest number of Joe-2s strategically placed in key positions of power manipulating the course of world events. It's disappointing, but I'll have to accept it.

Nonsense.

2005-09-09T13:45:00.000-05:00

Is anyone good with Photoshop or other software? I want to make a coin with Bush on it of the non-cents denomination. Get it? Nonsense. Ha, I kill me.
Don't mean to get political. You gotta admit it would be funny to have Clinton on one if you are a Bush fan.

Oligarchy

2005-09-06T12:01:00.000-05:00

Oligarchy. It's poopy. What do I mean in bringing it up and calling it poopy?
Me not know.
Where everyone go?

Is this shoplifting?

2005-08-22T21:27:00.000-05:00

This was a test posting. I need to download some pics.

I took this one in a little silver mining town in the Sierra Madre Mountains when I was in Mexico last October. I can't remember the name of the town, but it was a former ghost town slowly making a comeback. I mean slowly. We saw maybe ten people in the whole town. I know I didn't really post about the trip. I loved Mexico and would go back in a second, but my family and I were so overcome with the begging and poverty there. Especially in this area.

We were there as part of a day trip during our stop in Mazatlan. Our tour stopped here for lunch (prearranged by the cruiseline) at a little family owned place. The food was fantastic and the beer was so welcome. This donkey in the picture, though, belonged to a little boy who would go up to people in these tour groups that stop here on their way further up the mountain and ask, in very broken English, if they wanted to take his picture on the donkey. After people said yes and took his picture, he would then follow them around for the remainder of the tour in this town demanding two dollars.

It really made me think twice about coming back home and buying jewelry from a specific silver company when I saw the exact bracelet I had bought from them for $40 in this mining town being sold for $3... by the family that crafted it. It made me wonder, is it Americans taking advantage of these miners? Or is it other Mexicans?

Like I said, the cruiseline had prearranged all of our day excursions and stops and more than once I felt these people's poverty was being commercialized and put on display for us. And I do mean poverty in some cases (not just differences in economics or lifestyles).

Enough. I now know how to post more pictures.

Chao-chou's Bridge

2005-08-22T20:57:00.000-05:00

I'm sorry to hear about the ill-fated coin toss. While I struggled to find comforting words, one of my favorite Zen quotations came to mind. I got it from my 2003 Zen desk calendar (Johnny may recognize it, I believe he had the same one)... there's something so commercially wrong with that. But anyways, it's insightful, and profound, and worthy of mention at a time like this.

A monk asked Chao-chou: "I've been hearing about Chao-chou's bridge for a long time, but now that I am here all I see is a log."

Chao-chou said: "You see the log, but you don't see the stone bridge."

The monk asked: "What is the stone bridge?"

Chao-chou said: "It lets donkeys cross; it lets horses cross."

- Zen Mondo

Wireless in the park.

2005-08-21T10:49:00.000-05:00

In New York there's free wireless outside. I am sitting in City Hall Park with my laptop. The long endurance test of a road trip, in which my resolute absentent-mindedness directed at the singular accomplishment of the city to which I am now tapping at my computer. I am staying at the Harlem YMCA in a room so small that I have to stand sidways to pass between my bed and wardrode (though the fact that I actually have a wardrobe in my private room should give me less reason to complain). For anyone who is not familiar with Manhattan, Harlem is very, very black, and, for anyone who is not familiar with me, I am very, very white. I stick out a little. If you look at Satelite images of Harlem and you notice a small white speck floating through a sea of dark skinned ladies and gentlemen then you can say, "Hey that's that guy on the blog collective whose posts I try to avoid."

I would be moving into a new apartment in Queens had it not been for the whims of chance. I had seen the apartment the day before yesterday and was unsure, gave it a night to think about it (knowing full well the incredible perils of hesitation in situations like this), and finally I fully resolved on it early the next morning after checking into my room in that black-culture mecca. I call the landlady and she tells me that she is going to be showing the place to someone else and that if I come down there and am in earnest that she will hand the keys over to me and have me sign the lease. Unfortunately, she does not tell this other girl at that point that the apartment is taken, either not trusting that I was in earnest or assuming that the other girl would not be able to make an immediate decision to take it. I get there as fast as I can, fully prepared to pay all in full, but (as fate is a wily tramp) the other girl has fully decided that she too wants the apartment. She is a lanky, short-haired black girl from Florida with high-cheekbones, a small featured face, chocolatey skin and an English accent who is going to NYU to get a masters in film. The landlady, though, does not want to make a decision and hopes that the two of us can decide between us. We compare trials (akin, though not quite tantamount too the Seinfeld episode in which George compares his woes with an older gentleman who had once survived a sinking ship): she is only here for the weekend to find a room and has a flight back to Florida in two and a half hours and will be returning in a week to begin classes; I have classes starting in two days and am living in a hostel with a fraction of my stuff while the rests sits in storage while I try to find a room. It is possible that great moralists have pondered long over situations like this and have reached logical, elequently argued solutions that would satisfy all parties involved (except, of course, the person who doesn't get the room), but I decided to leave the decision to fate (that whorish vixen) and let it be decided on a coin toss. The landlady pulled from her purse a Israeli coin on one side of which was a ten and on the other was a menorah. I decided to put my faith not in that symbol of god's benevolence and perseverance, but in that indifferent number 10. That was my fatal error. I was allowed to be the one to flip the coin, and I raised into the air that spinning disc that was to be the determinant (and detriment) of my entire future. And as it sank to the earth with an unwavering thud I could see even from my height the candles looking up at me. It was over. I conceded. I walked away. Went back to my room in Harlem to cry silently. And now, this morning I am back on the internet to seek out more rooms (and occasionally to procrastinate by writing long, overdone descriptions of what I've endured).

Jenna-isms.

2005-08-20T19:48:00.000-05:00

That used to be the name of my made-up religion (back when I was in denial about my Catholicism... not so long ago? Still?).

Anyways, here are the 5 idiosyncrasies about myself that first came to mind:

1.) I count silently when I run. But only when I'm running on a track. And only double-digit numbers, usually starting in the twenties or thirties and counting on-beat with my footsteps. This started in my high school track days. Not sure why.

2.) I obsessively pick at my beer bottles' lables until they are folding up on both sides... and usually come off altogether.

3.) My darling boyfriend would tell you that I sit with my hands or fingers positioned over my lips when I'm trying to avoid a subject of conversation. But then I would tell you that he picks at his right eyebrow when he is deep in thought.

4.) Whenever I wear long sleeves I pull them down over my hands.

5.) I go through a roll of papertowels easily when I cook.

It's so much easier coming up with other people's little indiosyncrasies!

Anyways, not much new going on here. Law school starts Monday. New job starts the week after that! That will be cool. No more two hour commute up to class at night. My new job is less than 5 miles away from my school (Suffolk U in Boston).

Oh! And my MOTHER was stung by a bee during a road race that we ran last weekend and almost DIED!!! She and I have always been very sensitive to stings, but never knew it could develop into a fullblown allergy. It wasn't fun. It was also her 49th birthday. She woke up the following morning with a bunch of white hairs (I kid you not... and this is a woman who has a full head of dark brown hair!). So I've been very, very thankful to those scientists who created the lifesaving epipen they gave her at the medical tent before whisking her to the hospital via ambulance. The doc said if they hadn't have given it to her, she wouldn't be here.

You should all call your mothers tonight. How's that for an after school special?

I love the pencil sharpener picture, by the way. I'm going to try to post some before the weekend is over.

Happy Birthday, Rach!

2005-08-17T15:16:00.000-05:00

I hear tell that it's Rach's birthday today.
Happy birthday, Rach!

Last night I dreamed of Gelman.

2005-08-09T23:38:00.000-05:00

There was also an Episcopal church and the loss of my purse. [Virtually every dream I have is about the loss/misplacement of my purse. Dr Jung would probably consider it a metaphor for loss.]

Andrea Sher of the always beautiful SuperHeroDesigns site, one of my must-reads was tagged by another blogger to write 'five idiosyncrasies about myself.' I'm self-tagging and challenging my Collective compadres to do the same.

1. I fingerspell the names of streets as I walk down them.

2. I always wear a watch, since I must know the time. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I guess the time before looking, and I'm frequently right. I think indiglo is one hell of an invention.

3. I always address the envelope before writing the letter or card.

4. I believe 13 is a lucky number.

5. Despite no proof, I'm willing to consider the possibility of all manner of goofy stuff like out-of-body experiences, guardian angels and astral projection.

Joe on the road

2005-08-09T19:33:00.000-05:00

I'm posting now because my imminent trip is too close to postpone a post any further and all those last minute preparations are pouring in. Most of you're probably not aware (partly because I simply haven't told you) that I am going to be driving on my journey from California to the city of New York. For reasons that sum up to, most of my few posessions are actually still with my old residence in Santa Fe and it's better to fly, I fly to Santa Fe and only have to drive from there to New York, but don't think this eliminates much from a daunting and tiresome (even if your the whole time comfortably reclined) trial of of crossing much of this gigantic continent. I was just watching the movie The Motorcycle Diaries, which bears absolutely no resemblence to my what my trek will be except that a lot of ground will be covered. There isn't the slightest possibility that someone will someday make a movie out of my particular cross-country road trip - partly because mine will be so incredibly boring and partly because driving a large truck full of stuff to a new home so that I can further immerse myself in the rather conservative and generally more backward looking world of academia is not going to help foment revolutionary ideas and lead me toward the spiritual crisis that will help bring about my desire to help the neglected and downtrodden. Though maybe it will convince me of the not quite so inspiring and uplifting (but possibly equally important) lesson that, despite the limits of my possessions I quite possibly may still have too much stuff, which I guess, in some circuitous way could lead me to some pivotal revelation that all men and women should abandon the blind passion for accumulation, throw aside their shallow middle class values and minimize their possessions and thereby minimize the hours of labor devoted to accumating money for the purpose of accumulating possessions, time that could be better employed cultivating the body and the mind and the soul. And I could actualize the spirit of these revolutionary ideas by breaking into middle class houses and burning their faux-leather couches, and cheap knick-knacks, graffitiing their walls and stealing clothes from their overstuffed closets. But even if I somehow go down this incredibly unexpected path in my life (since most likely I'll myself settle into a middle-class house, accumulate stuff and waste my life writing tired, boring articles), I think the most that any movie of my revolutionary proclivities would possibly cover of this journey would be a shot of me stepping into this truck with the suff already packed and waving goodbye to some extras followed by a shot of the truck speeding by on a highway towards the sunset on a generic, middle-america farm plane, because this trip will be the most boring trip there can be.

Actually I think I just spent a whole lot of words saying what was simply stated in the last clause of that last sentence "this trip will be the most boring trip there can be" which would of course lead the reader who is reading this to assume that I should have gone back and deleted all of that rambling (and I would banter, "you could've just skipped over it"). But it's too late. I'm speaking in real time and my words can't be taken back once they've left my mouth. I'll see you all on the other side, barring the chance that I find some free hot spot on the way and can find the free time to say something endearing or am compelled by an unfathomable desire to torture you by describing my trip (probably with the simple words: "I was right. Nothing has happened. Call Jose Rivera. I've decided the screenplay's canceled.")

No one's got anything to say?

2005-08-08T16:19:00.000-05:00

I know that when we "redid" the Blog Collective, we laid out bylaws in an agreement to the new/old members that promised to post regularly. We can't exactly have a successful blog if no one's posting. I've been on leave/vacationing, but that's not really a reason not to go without saying anything. We need to be active here, people!

General crappiness.

2005-08-04T10:47:00.000-05:00

I hate the days before the actual onset of a cold. You feel all around like crap. Right now I have no actual drive to do anything. Taking a shower and laundry were done because of the necessity of daily cleaning and the lack of clean clothes. I have NO problem with getting sick in the winter, when you can dress in as many layers as is necessary, and curl up on the couch with a movie or a book (or your Moleskine if so inclined ;) ).

It started last night, whilst I was watching Constantine and laying on the couch nursing my girlfriend...and by 10pm it was full blown "ickyness."

Today isn't much better, but I'm going to go out regardless of how I feel, because I can't spend the last few days of my vacation inside watching daytime TV.

The summer of joy.

2005-08-03T11:23:00.000-05:00

If you’re a "Seinfeld" fan, you’ll recognize the reference. If not, well…I’m not one of those people who wax rhapsodic about the wonders of summer. [If you have a lake cottage or a beach house, I’m sure it’s nicer, but if one has to continue with day-to-day, it merely hot and smoggy.]

Anyway, I’m struggling with procrastination. [Zen moment: If you know you’re procrastinating, and it causes you emotional suffering, does that make any difference? Or are you still a procrastinating goof-off?]

Back to summer…you can make the case that it’s a season for relaxing and no worries. Or is that simply more justification for procrastination?

I have an long list of things to do; perhaps I should consult it more frequently. I’m fairly certain it doesn’t include watching QVC.

I’ve joined a listserv in which you commit to writing 100 words every day for 100 days. Sheesh, I can do that.

P.S.: I just got an email from a botanicals site I visited and I’m the winner of a green clay mask. Clearly, my luck is changing.

Pencil Revolution.

2005-07-30T10:25:00.000-05:00

In case you don't already know about it, I'm going to be a poophead and plug my other new blog on here: Pencil Revolution. You know you want to read it, like, all the time.

Pictures.

2005-07-27T22:18:00.000-05:00

Recent posting.

2005-07-25T20:44:00.000-05:00

I've been on vacation for the last week, and at a house with (prepare yourselves) dial-up!
So I didn't want to get online for anything other than checking my email and that's about it. I'm happily arrived in Carbondale, to spend the week with Johnny and his super wife! We have a busy week of hiking, drinking (coffee and other liquids) and just wasting time. It's a very welcome break from the grind that I've been needing for quite some time now.
I'm sure I'll have something witty to post up here but I wanted to at least get this little bit up to explain my absence lately. I'm very happy to see jlcp posting here, she's been missed, no matter what the "reasons" were...

Allergies...and the suffering of.

2005-07-25T20:17:00.000-05:00

I've been suffering from various horrible seasonal allergies. That's my excuse for not posting.

I'm feeling a bit better, and purchased my first digital camera yesterday. As soon as I plow through the copious documentation (sheesh...more than a nuclear reactor!), get ready for adorable puppy pics.

Stick to H2O.

2005-07-24T17:19:00.000-05:00

I am very anti-sports drink at the moment.

I could go into it, but first I'd like to say that I am very happy to be back blogging with all of you. My ability (or inability) to post regularly has been directly related to laptop problems over the last year or so. Lack of adequate internet capabilities. Viruses (which has made me a little leary of re-downloading that picture-posting software... Happy? Anyone else have trouble that may have been traced back to it? I guess my problems could have been traced back to anything.). Warped screen. Green stripes and so forth. Anyways, I know I've said this before, but these problems should soon be a thing of the past. I'm breaking down and buying a new friggin' laptop.

I just have to. It's okay. I've accepted it.

With that out of the way, I would next like to say that I am sidelined in bed right now and in need of a nap. Some of you know that enjoy running. Quite masochistic, I know. Well, I went out on a 9 miler last night. Ran out of water at mile 3. To make a long story short, I came back severely dehydrated, guzzled a half-bottle of a leading sports drink that promises to replenish electrolytes and rehydrate, and promptly detected a stomach issue. A violent stomach issue. Which got me wondering what the heck these sports drink scientists do with their stupid time if their product - engineered to be better than water - makes the severely thirsty vomit.

Honestly! I'm quite ticked off! 24 hours later and I'm still rehydrating and rebuilding my strength! With water, I might add. Beautiful, wonderful, spectacular Poland Spring!!! God(dess) bless the springs of Maine.

I guess I've learned simply that sports drink scientists can't compete with nature. Water is the proverbial building block of life. And aside from orange juice with calcium (kudos to the juice scientists who got it right!), we need no other drink!

Nevermind that I was the nimrod who didn't completly fill her Camelbak before a long run. Shh!! Irrelevant!

C.S. Lewis blog.

2005-07-21T10:03:00.000-05:00

A blog full of quotations from C.S. Lewis. For your pleasure.

An introduction to Joe.

2005-07-16T22:25:00.000-05:00

For those who don't know me or for the rest of you who've been in the dark about the more recent transformations in my life, I am saying a few words. I mean "few words" literally, as my life has little of interest to offer and I want to spare you all the stultifying boredom of having to listen to the trite, if not downright dismally depressing, details of my life. I am living in California, in Danville (in the bay area) to be exact. But that particular kernel of insight into my present status is soon to be obsolete. I'll be leaving within the month, if I live that long. I'll be registering for classes in New York in just over a month, going to Suny Stony Brook to study philosophy. Sadly, it's another MA for me. Maybe someday someone will be duped into overestimating my pathetic intelligence and allowing me to steal into the hallowed halls of academia and pursue, oh dream upon dreams, my PhD and allow me to begin, hope upon hope, my path toward professorship that I have long had in mind. I don't currently have a place to live in New York, but I'll be searching for one once I arrive. Most of my classes will be in Manhattan, so I'll be searching for something nearer to there. Once there I'll see if I am any closer to some of those old friends that I left behind at Goucher so long ago, back when I was but a bright-eyed child with foolish dreams of settling down in a mind-numbing job, in a crumbling suburb, with a nagging, perpetually pregnant wife and a gigantic television to tear me away from the agonies of my life for those precious hours that I could spend close beside it, resisting the constant urge to reach out and wrap my arms around as much of its gigantic girth as possible. But now I realize that it is vain to dream of so much, especially with the overpowering disappointments that have already accumulated in the short years since that time. I'm hoping I can find some comfortable, rotting apartment on long island where the rats and cockroaches engage in continuous territorial warfare in my living room floor over puddles fed by over a dozen consistent drips from the ceiling which I can just barely shut out at night by clamping my pillow tightly over my head. But I'm afraid with the little amount of money I have, I won't be able even to afford that.

As should be quite obvious from the content of my post so far, I'm a very well-contented person with little to complain about in my life beyond the myriad misfortune which impinge in the seemingly endless time between my almost nonexistent hours, nay but minutes, of sleep and dream. If it weren't for an imagination bubbling over like a large boiling pot in which one has placed to many dried noodles, I might even get a little down sometimes. Forgive the food metaphor, but its been such a long time since I can remember having a meal anymore filling than what I can collect with a long sticky wire from the ant colony nearby where I sleep on alternate Thursdays. To all of you who I haven't spoken to in so long, my fondest greetings. And to the rest of you, I hope we can get better acquainted in the future.

TV is the Devil.

2005-07-14T20:30:00.000-05:00

After starting dating a woman that watches a lot of TV....I've come to a decision.
It's not a good thing.
I managed to go months without this much exposure to television and preprogramed mind numbness. We sit for a few hours (sometimes 3) watching what has been called the "idiot box" and I'm bored of it. As I speak now, it's on behind me and there's a show on that I would normally watch. I think that I'm going to get a book tomorrow to read while this thing is on. I have no problem with other people doing that (the brain freeze) but I can tune out the box with a good book and I think that it's time for it. I don't want to be rude, but I'm not going to kill my oh-so-powerful brain with static busy-ness.
It's not very long of a blog today, but due to the recent drain of my mind, I'm a little lacking of new ideas.

Happy Birthday, Joy!

2005-07-13T00:45:00.000-05:00

Happy Birthday to Blog Collective member Joy!

Roadkill Stunna.

2005-07-12T20:36:00.000-05:00

Just plugging my other blog. It's just some pics of me having fun a few weeks ago. I'll post more as I get them.

Pixie and Pinky.

2005-07-10T17:54:00.000-05:00

Our friends Brian and Carrie have moved waaaaaay out west for a new life together. And, thankfully, they are blogging from their new home. I'd invite you check out their blog, Pixie and Pinky for the continuing saga, complete with great photos, faeries and gnomes.

Photo Friday: Candid.

2005-07-08T21:09:00.000-05:00

Old Sicilian Men.
(Unknown date.)
From Chris' years in Sicily.
For Photo Friday: Candid.

"White" weddings, and damsels in distress.

2005-07-08T19:11:00.000-05:00

Okay, you may have already seen this.

After thinking about what Frankie wrote here, I remembered reading recent commentary on this phenomenon: missing white women rule cable news, and push out other substantive (and hard to cover) stories.

There was a good article on missing minorities in USA Today a couple weeks ago, and another in the Washington Post: "(White) Women We Love". Both make the rather striking observation that we see "missing (white) girl" stories on the news all the time, and few minorities. Sadly, I'm angered, but not shocked by this, and generally agree with the WP reporter's reading on why this happens.

What I continue to be more alarmed by is not the racism involved in the coverage of the "Runaway Bride" case, but why major stories that affect the truly effect the entire country (why we went to war in Iraq) seem to get less coverage than shark attacks, or kidnap victims. Please don't get me wrong: each one of these victims is worthy of attention and care, and we ought to put forth a full effort to free the kidnap victims, and catch and prosecute their kidnappers. But what's up with our priorities that this is what the media spends its time on?

(I'm well aware that there's been a lot of discussion about this in other places, like here and here. But I believe it's also important to do so here.)

Florida.

2005-07-07T11:39:00.000-05:00

So we're getting ready for ANOTHER hurricane.

The school is probably going to evacuate to Atlanta, and I'm going to ride another storm out in my apartment. I'll be ok until the power goes out, then I'm gonna be bored as hell, and stuck with my redneck ass roomate. He's a nice guy, but we'll see how long it lasts until we want to kill each other.

I'm probably not going to stay in this state when my time's up here in Pensacola. I don't know where I'm going, but I do know I'm going somewhere with predictable weather.

On the Supreme Court.

2005-07-06T23:43:00.000-05:00

So I really, really, really want to be one of those people who approaches something like the impending battle over the next Supreme Court justice with gusto and plans to charter a bus to Washington, D.C. and organize a demonstration. But I have to say that in the aftermath of the last presidential election, I feel more than disheartened. Whether you're a Democrat or a Republican, anyone can admit that when the majority spoke, it spoke rather overwhelmingly for a set of social and political ideas that garners fierce loyalty on one side and fierce opposition on the other. It never feels good to be on the losing side of anything, but the hardest thing for me and a lot of other liberals to come to terms with was that at least in 2004, the system worked. Can't say the same for 2000, I think, but this time the principles of republicanism appear to have done their appointed task. That's the hardest part -- realizing that you didn't lose because there was trickery or fraud but because more people wanted what you didn't want. They won, fair and square (so it seems).

The rest of us have to content ourselves with being the vocal opposition until the next election rolls around. But I have to admit that I face that task with profound apathy. Maybe because I so wanted a new president, and as I watched the early returns on election night, it was so close that I could see it happening. Maybe one of the most serious consequences of Kerry's defeat (a distant second, of course, to the prolonging of the occupation of Iraq) is that too many of us, accustomed to defeat, will let one party have its way. No matter who's in the White House, single-party rule is never a good thing.

Blogging and opening.

2005-07-06T14:45:00.000-05:00

I didn't want to simply put this as a comment on the other post, so I dedicated a post of my own...

I think that we might, as a country, have a problem with self esteem/confidence.
I've noticed that many people go around with their heads looking at the ground, shoulders forward, and eyes lowered and rarely making any eye contact with the surrounding people. This might have something to do with our inability to say what we're saying. There are some people, I'm sure, that can express their opinions with no problem, but in general, we've come to censor ourselves. I think that this is not a good progression. As children, we were (as was said) allowed to say what was on our minds, and this was praised, if only for the newly found ability to write.

Then we're required to write book reports and other such things that have us spouting off unoriginal thoughts and ideas, which have been published by other people. We claim to have original thoughts, but other than our actions, how are we supposed to let it all free? I'm more outgoing than most, in person and in type/writing...and have no real problem letting my opinion free, but others might not be able to, and I thought that this might be part of the reason why.

Introduction, writing, blogging, and writing about blogging.

2005-07-05T21:14:00.000-05:00

For someone who introduces themself to complete strangers every day for a living, I'm finding it surprisingly hard to think of a way to introduce myself on this site. I guess I'll jump right in and give you the basics. I'm Rachael, 26 next month, a Baltimore, Maryland native, a leasing agent and marketing assistant, and an artist in my free time. I have a BS in English and Writing but I spend my days renting apartments and trying to avoid the insanity of still living with my parents. Lately my life has focused around four things: the treadmill, my gardens, work, and learning how to use my new Mac. My eye color and spiritual affiliation are linked to the left in my blog title if you're interested in knowing more. Any more information and you could stalk me so I'm going to cut myself off.

I would like to thank Johnny for the invite. I love writing and blogs are such a challenge to the writer in all of us. One of the things I struggle with on my personal blog is the personality of the blogger versus the personality of the actual person. Do you find it difficult to write about yourself and your opinions? Do you censor your thoughs on the internet? I certainly do, which is ironic considering that writing about one's self is how we start out. If you think back to your primary school days you'll probably realize that most of your writing assignments focused on you and what you did or thought about. As childen we were all a little self involved as personal growth dictates that need, but growing older seems to change that, leaving the happy medium out of reach sometimes. I'm excited to be a part of this group because it's a collective of thought, we're all taking the blog challenge together and putting ideas out there. It seems less threatening in a group setting. Don't get me wrong, I'm not intimidated by my blog, I just find it easier to share my thoughts when others are doing the same.

On wasting your life & rotting your brain.

2005-07-04T14:36:00.000-05:00

The 4th of July bbq I was planning to attend is cancelled, so I'm home. My 13 year-old niece, who's utterly in the thrall of popular culture, is watching the "Maury Povich Show." Does it make me a crank, a snob, an elitist to say that it makes me sick?

I consume my own share of lowbrow culture. I'll read People magazine while eating a Little Debbie snack cake and watching Dancing with the Stars. But doesn't a line, tenuous though it may be, need to be drawn?

Making fun is fine. Goofing around is fine. But what about people willing to sell their dignity and self respect for eight minutes with Maury?

Happy Independence Day.

2005-07-04T12:03:00.000-05:00

Happy holiday to my Blog Collective comrades and to the world-wide public in general!

Despite my often being-at-odds with the current administration and my complaining about the "rednecks" and such, I really do love my country. If that's offensive, or goes against what a liberal is supposed to feel, I don't care.

Am I supposed to hate my country because I don't like the President or because we're at war, and a pointless one at that? Am I supposed to hate my country because of the proliferation of Wal-Mart and consumerism?

I'm not going to let anyone tell me how I feel about my country. Too often, the right tells us that we hate American because we disagree with the President, the war, consumerism, etc. That's not fair.

If I did hate America, it would only make good moral sense to eschew everything American. No medications. No computers/software. No blogging. No American universities.

While most of what the right says about so-called haters of freedom/America is little more than mindless monkeying, they are right about one thing. If one hates America, leave. If one hates America and does not live here, one should not take part in anything that comes from American culture. If one hates America and Americans, why act like an American? It's not good moral sense to participate in something one hates or finds morally abhorrent.

I think some people take it too far, anyway. Hating Dubbya or the war or our education policy should not have to equal "I hate this country." I hate habits about some people I love, but I love them just the same. What's the saying, "Hate the sin; love the sinner"?

I don't hate my country. I love it. Pointless wars aside, it's done more for me and for the world at large than I can ever comprehend. I'm not ashamed to be an American. I'm proud.

Playlist meme.

2005-07-01T00:02:00.000-05:00

We've been tagged by the Green Eyed Pagan, for the song meme. I'll start, I guess, with ten songs I've been listening to a lot lately. Can't do six. Raised Catholic, can't do six. Sorry. And sorry if there are repeats from the last time I did something like this.
1) "Father Figure" (Tori Amos cover of George Michael)
2) "Starry-Eyed Surprise" (Paul Oakenfold)
3) "In Your Eyes" (Lunik)
4) "In Your Room" (Depeche Mode)
5) "I Disappear" (Metallica)
6) "Can't Keep It In" (Cat Stevens)
7) "My Wave" (Soundgarden)
8) "Let's Get Lifted" (John Legend)
9) "So Sister" (The Verve)
10) "With Or Without You" (Keane cover of U2)
I can, of course, email these to whomever might want a few. That Tori cover and that John Legend song are very nice. I'm sure that some people will say that the Oakenfold might be ruined because it's in a Coke movie theater commercial, but I like it just the same.
That's my list. How about you?

Recent events.

2005-06-30T11:38:00.000-05:00

I got to thinking about how many people are dying in the Middle East. Then I got to thinking in general....

As a former helicopter mechanic, and probably going to be one again if I'm not a pilot when I leave here, the news about the H-47 crash in Afghanistan didn't sit well.

I don't know whether or not it was shot down, but getting one of those with an RPG isn't hard. Barely able to fly 140 knots (slow) and HUGE, the dual rotor helos are prime targets if one was wanting to shoot something of the enemy's down. I'm saddened because there were 17 people on board that plane, and they're not able to find any of them.

I've had to work on 2 crash investigations, as a inspection technician. I have seen an "Apache" like helo folded in half. All three men died on board. That one hit the water at 30 knots foward speed and about 20 knots downward vertical speed. The transmission (a magnesium hunk) went stright through the cockpit and took out the aircrew on board. The tail section folded and wrapped up and over the cockpit when it hit the water because of the force. I've also had to investigate a helo that caught fire for no reason and fell straight to the ground. Four on that one died, too. I don't really have a point with this, but it's sad that these people have died, and more will. I understand that being in the military, especially as a pilot, is a dangerous job whether or not you're "at war."

As a side note, I'm still pissed about the "W" allowing the towers to be bombed comment.

Freedom Tower.

2005-06-29T14:27:00.000-05:00

The designs for the replacement for the World Trade Center towers destroyed by hateful bastards are being finalized, according to MSNBC. The new building will be more "blast-resistant" to truck bombs. As I recall, truck bombs aren't what brought the towers down. Anyway, the whole thing is supposed to be the tallest and safest building in the world -- and extremely beautiful to boot.

But who the hell would want an office in what amounts to a really big tombstone? Why the hell can't they leave it (that spot) alone and maybe put a park there of some other memorial? I suppose we're really stupid enough to believe that no one will blow this one up, unless this one comes with its own squadron of F-22s to intercept potential suicide planes.

But then again, the evil-doers will find a way around that, too.

The way I see it, it's almost...disrespectful to put another giant building structure. I mean, there's getting on with our lives. And then there's creating a shiny distraction so that we forget what happened and the thousands of people that died at that spot one day. This is, of course, not to mention the pragmatik concerns about putting another target there.

What do you think?

Starbucks' logo.

2005-06-28T12:31:00.000-05:00

We talk a lot about Starbucks here, and I've certainly done my own share of Starbucks defending on my own blog. But this article has nothing to do with why you should or should not get your daily (or hourly) dose of the gods' nectar (anything with a substantial amount of caffeine) at Starbucks. It's entirely about the logo, something about which I've often wondered and always been too lazy to look up. It's a good article, from a good blog. Read it; you know you want to.

Student loans and coffee habits.

2005-06-24T10:26:00.000-05:00

This is a very interesting article from the Washington Post detailing the ways in which today's college and graduate students pad their already-huge student loans with extra funds to finance their three-dollar-a-day specialty coffee habit.

I will readily admit to having a daily coffee habit, although not one that is quite so expensive (closer to two dollars per day). I will also admit to having used student loans in the past to pay for living expenses beyond tuition, but I like to think that this was for things like rent and groceries, not fun trips to Starbucks.

The article itself seems to conclude that it's going to be very difficult to convince students to see the big picture: that sacrificing their coffee luxury today means saving thousands of dollars in the future. It's not news that students today are taking out more loans than past generations and starting their adult lives heavily in debt. College is a whole lot more expensive than it used to be. But we've also come a long way from the days of my grandfather, who, according to the stories my mother told me, lived on nothing but cheese crackers while he was in college. Should it follow that because so many of us are living on borrowed money that we are not entitled to small luxuries like a daily latte? On one level, I'm tempted to say a resounding yes. There's something to be said for paying your dues and all of that. Once you get out of school and get a real, paying job, you can enjoy all the lattes you want without doing serious damage to your credit rating (I guess; I'm still in school).

On the other hand, though, those student loans are going to be a part of my life for a very long time. The article makes the argument that taking out extra money for lattes is more than a drop in the bucket, and I don't disagree that it doesn't make sense to dig yourself in deeper than you need to. But maybe a cheaper coffee habit would be better than foregoing it all together. It's going to take me twenty years to pay off those loans; I might as well enjoy a cup of coffee along the way.

Switch to a nice au lait, college students. Similar flavor but cheaper than a latte.

Weddings.

2005-06-22T23:15:00.000-05:00

Last night was the big interview with the Runaway Bride, as she has been dubbed by the media (ordinarily, I would link to a related website, but as you'll see, I'm not doing so to protest the ridiculous amount of attention this case has gotten. I well realize, though, that in writing about it at all, I give it more attention).

I refused to watch the interview last night but am familiar enough with the story: girl freaks out about insanely large wedding, girl runs away, girl pretends to have been kidnapped by ethnic minority, girl is found and has to repay police department for the money they spent looking for her. It seems to me that most of the coverage of this story has been of the usual, superficially voyeuristic sort: "Ooh, isn't that weird?!" I'm probably not the first to suggest this, but for me, the real value in this story is what it suggests about the modern wedding industry.

Having experienced the stress of planning a wedding in the recent past, I remember that it didn't take me long to realize how ridiculous most of the expectations were. Bridal magazines, for all their commercial gloss and hundred pages of ads, do warn you that wedding industry professionals will play on various emotions to get you to empty your wallet. My wedding was nowhere near as large at the Runaway Bride's reportedly was and was also consciously non-traditional, so I found that what required the most energy was making people understand, both inside and outside of my family, that I didn't want the usual white-wedding pap. Reactions to this ranged from acceptance to anger to blank-eyed incomprehension. For example, when told that I wanted a vegetarian reception, one potential caterer paused and insisted, "But your guests will be expecting meat. You have to have a carving station." I wanted to shout, "Why are you arguing with me?!"

But as much of a pain as that was, I imagine that acquiescing to the "standard package" of wedding stuff -- carving stations galore, a dozen bridesmaids in dyed-to-match shoes, getting given away by your father -- probably involves its own stresses. Perhaps a good rule of thumb is that if your wedding is wigging you out so much that you have to run away, call it off and elope. Of course it's hard to fight against the desire to have a perfect wedding in the conventional sense. Every woman wants to feel special on that day (men, too, I'm sure); every one wants to feel as though his or her wedding is the most extraordinary, pulls out all the stops. I just wish there was an understanding that you can accomplish that without mimicking what's in the bridal magazines. There's limited room for variety in the conventional wedding, and no room for contesting all those wedding norms. If you choose to do so, it'll be a long road and a lot of explaining why you don't feel the need to have a carving station. But maybe in the long run, it's worth it.

"Push back against the age...

2005-06-22T20:34:00.000-05:00

as hard as it pushes against you."

I've been using this Flannery O'Connor quote as my email sig line for a while, and I regularly get asked 'what it means.' I'm not certain what O'Connor meant. She was a devout Catholic and I'm assuming she was talking about maintaining religious faith in a time when it's difficult to do so.

It reminds to me resist the pull of the craven and ugly and banal--pop culture, reality TV, easy answers to tough questions.

Discussion points.

2005-06-21T12:28:00.000-05:00

I was reading about the "space sail" concept that is going to be shot into space and started wondering whether or not the others here believe in other significant life forms/higher intelligence. I think that just with the vast space and elements involved in the galaxy and randomness, there's probably someone else back there. They are what they are...and we may never find them for whatever reason.

Also, I read an article about human beings' political decisions and favors genetically influenced. I thought this was strange, but not totally unbelievable. I would begin to think that with all the tests and everything that we are able to do to an embryo/fetus to check for disorders, there will be a time when you can check someone's DNA and see everything about them, even as far as the placement of their birthmarks and moles.

Any input or opinions?

Fragile.

2005-06-21T10:27:00.000-05:00

Geez, everything makes us sick or kills us these days, huh? Can't eat raw meat. Okay, humankind has known this for a very long time. Now, we can't eat high-heat meat? Read on.

Motorcycle stunting.

2005-06-20T11:11:00.000-05:00

I would call it "Sportbike Stunting," but there's a few guys out there on Harley Sportsters and ditrbikes killing it, so it's motorcycle stunting.

I am a stunter. My idea of a perfect day is spent trying new stuff on my bike. The majority of what we do is modified wheelies. Standing different ways, moving around, stuff like that, which takes a lot of practice to get good at. It takes time and money, lots of both, to get good at what we do.

As a sportbike rider, you (the collective) are already in an outcast group of society. We're the bastard step-children of sportbikes. Street hooligans, drunks, general chaos, etc. is what a lot of people specialize in. Most of the time we keep it off the streets, but sometimes it's taken out and is shown to society. A lot of people think we're stupid for doing what we do becuase of danger or some other reason. It's about showing off basically.

Anyway, the reason I'm writing in our blog is because the sport's BLOWING UP as we speak. Nextel NASCAR (though I think it's the devil), has hired on a pro stunt team to do pre-race festivities. It's underground for now, but coming out. Most of the press is bad, people dying on the streets from a wheelie gone wrong or someone cutting out in a soccer mom mobile, killing the rider. If anyone's interested, you can search for stuntlife, stunters, daruis, kaneone, uponone.com, and many others and see what it's about. These guys (me included) live for this stuff. People don't have to like it but I feel it's sort of my duty to report what people are doing.

Download this vid and take a few minutes to see what's going on. The guy doing most of the riding is one of the best in the world at this new "sport."

Photo Friday: Sport.

2005-06-17T19:11:00.000-05:00

From Chris, for this week's Photo Friday challenge, Sport.

Don't know what to think of this one.

2005-06-17T09:12:00.000-05:00

This is an article written about the improper disposal of dead animals by PETA employees. I learned a few things reading this article. I guess it's ok to kill an animal that doesn't have a prospective future in a house or domestic environment by a shot, opposed to the other ways? And it's ok to throw the bodies in dumpsters after they're dead, as long as they were euthanized the "correct way".

Is this similar to saying that it's ok to euthanize children that have little hopes of getting picked up by foster homes then disposing of their bodies in the easiest manner necessary?
I'm definitely caught offguard as to these practices because I thought PETA was about the correct treatment of animals, which should continue after the animal is "taken care of".

Loquacity.

2005-06-17T00:37:00.000-05:00

We've been very talkative around here lately, no? I'm glad for that.
No nasty language though, and that makes me feel like I'm somewhere else. Where's the immaturity?
No photos, either, so here's one.
They say that Space Pens write on anything, and they do. This is what a guy will do with a Space Pen to a Panera Bread cup when he's had too much coffee on a Saturday afternoon.
There, photos and swearing.
Feels like home.

Schiavo autopsy.

2005-06-15T22:35:00.000-05:00

As I was watching CNN, a brightly colour BREAKING NEWS ticker flashed onto the screen to (promptly) announce that Terri Schiavo's autopsy had been completed. Abuse allegations were dismissed early on, in a clear and concise manner. Call me a crazy conspiracy nut (which I most certainly am), but there are numerous articles and interviews which directly contrast the doctor's conclusion.

I believe a deep-rooted, dark and twisted form of ideals, better known as the Protocols of The Learned Elders of Zion, are being executed. Euthanasia is being pushed forward. Pushed in what direction? The socially accepted one, where sex, corruption, and bad music exists.

Where does one draw the line between sheer madness, and some cynical plot? The more I read, the more I find the world is one big lie - The Truman Show. Critical thinking is essential if we're to "break out" of Plato's Cave.

On theories.

2005-06-15T19:24:00.000-05:00

Hi everybody!
It's good to be back on Blog Collective. I just finished reading a very interesting post on theories at another blog. I admit to being one of those people who promiscuously bandies about the word "theory." To defend myself a little bit, though, I only do this as a substitute for using even less applicable, more specialized words like "philosophy" or "ideology" for people's ideas.

Anyway, the post made me think about whether or not I have any of my own half-cocked theories by which I live my life. I like to think of them instead as little morals, earned from experience, dispensed only when solicited (unsolicited advice is a huge pet peeve of mine) and only with the best of intentions. They seldom make any grand statements about the universe or existence. For example, when at a university library with a copy shop nearby, always check out your book if you can, make copies at the copy shop, and then return the book. Library copiers are usually more expensive and break down easily. Or, a more recent discovery, try not to get a graduate degree in a field that differs from one's undergraduate major. You will have a lot of catching up to do.

My less pedestrian insights are probably only of interest to me :)

Words of wisdom for writers [No. 1].

2005-06-15T16:02:00.000-05:00

'I don't listen to people when they talk to me. You save a lot of time. This gives you more time to be brilliant.'

~Umberto Eco

[I plan to try this at home.]

News.

2005-06-14T07:33:00.000-05:00

Once again I thought that the recent developments in science were interesting. Politics be damned! I know it's contrary to our "ways" here, but I thought that this was an interesting article. Apparently, these doctors are able to grow brain cells of mice and think that human brain cells are not an impossibility. Sparked my interest, but I still haven't developed an opinion in the stem cell debate.

Hello, again.

2005-06-13T20:59:00.000-05:00

Well, the bloggers are back in town again (so to speak). After a long hiatus, our more illustrious and committed members have roused some of the sleeping members of our group, so things may be getting more lively around here. As one of the oldest members of the crew (and its laziest poster), I would like to say welcome to the new members and readers. I look forward to hearing more from (and about) you all soon.

As to me, I hope to post more consistently, in the hopes of nurturing the tender seedling that is our new joint venture. I will probably post more about politics than anything else (since it's what I spend most of my time on), but will try to avoid the "X happened, read the link" school of posting that Johnny refers to here.

And I'll fail miserably, of course. For example: Agence France-Presse (via Yahoo News) reports that malnutrition in the U.S. is on the rise from last year at over 11 percent of all families experiencing hunger. Nothing shocking here- until you remember that the current Administration is moving to cut funding for food stamps by $600 million. Paul Krugman had an interesting article on this last Feb (NYT, via Truthout.org). And school lunches? Who needs those?

Bah. Let them eat cake. Welcome, new bloggers. Let the adventure begin.

Welcome, new members.

2005-06-13T10:26:00.000-05:00

I have intros and photos of some of the new members, but I won't be a jerk and post something like that in the name of someone else. I suggested posting photos of ourselves, so here is a photo of Chris and myself, from my wedding in October 2003. Yeah, that's me in a hemp suit, and that's Chris in the snug (!) pants. He's allowed to wear those, though; he works out. Chris and I have known each other for twelve years, since we were in Boy Scouts together, even though we haven't lived in the same state since January 1997. He is venturing to Southern Illinois again this summer, though, so stay tuned, possibly for drunken antics and definitely for caffeinated adventures.

I think introducing myself would be to repeat myself. Most questions can be answered via my other blog.

The obvious question: Why blog collectively? Good question. Any ideas?

Grand Re-Opening.

2005-06-13T07:28:00.000-05:00

Good Day fellow bloggers.
Welcome to the new and improved Blog Collective.
I hope that everyone can post here today, preferably something short and fueled by either coffee or some other substance.

Blog me a river.

2005-06-12T22:48:00.000-05:00

Welcome to our collective. Johnny G. [philosopher king] suggested I blog, so here I am.

I'm Joy, an ex-expat. I moved back to the US last month, after three-and-a-half years in Costa Rica. My location is a closely kept secret, but I'm currently dwelling in a place where the jacaranda is in bloom (and covering the sidewalks), shopping malls are legion and people drive everywhere. Me, I like to walk--usually accompanied by my friend/canine companion, Orla Bean.

Like every other blogger, I've got opinions, ideas, lists and all manner of arcane interests. That's for future entries.

Coffee.

2005-06-12T10:20:00.000-05:00

Because most of us are fueled by caffeine when we're going about our days, and most of us prefer coffee (If you don't it's unaccepttable...unless it's Red Bull). I found this site, probably old news but new to me.

Coffee Science.

Dangerous books.

2005-06-07T08:59:00.000-05:00

Behold, the most dangerous books of the 19th and 20th centuries, according to some conservatives. This makes me sick. Truly.

Stem cell.

2005-06-01T11:46:00.000-05:00

So I read that there will possibly be a stem cell bank in South Korea. I didn't know a lot about the stem cell contraversy (my bad for lack of reading up on this big issue). I honestly need to sit and decide whether or not cell research of this type is a good or bad thing. I read that these stem cells can be attached (with scientific advancement) to spinal cords or other parts of the body that have been ravaged by disease or birth defects. Is this the line that we must not cross? I would love to see comments from the readers on this subject because I think that it's an issue that deserve fair discussion.

Meaninglessness.

2005-06-01T07:30:00.000-05:00

What is our great role in society anyway?
All we really do is go around in our little circle of daily events and do what is expected of us. If we've ever been seen doing anything that's out of the ordinary, our friends and family won't even be suprised at us doing anything "zany" or out of the ordinary. For example, I've been know to do some stupid things in my time, but the people who've been there for those things almost have to expect them in the back of their heads. An accountant or banker also, these people have expectancies that are fulfilled, but at no degredation to the individuals. They carry on through their lives and fill out blanks, boxes and checks like they're supposed to, maybe to have some passion at home in gardening, golf or gold digging.
We're generally cogs in the great machine, with each of us filling out a required role that in one way or another is something expected. There are the positions (for lack of a better word) that we don't like to see, but who's to say that it's not better that we have the contraversy in our system caused by them. (the terrorists that recently caused the turmoil in our country are left out of that group)
I've just felt a little down lately and wondered what the meaning of getting out of bed is anymore...but we all do because it's expected.

Join us.

2005-05-22T15:48:00.000-05:00

Want to join? Go here to read.

The Fall.

2005-05-13T09:00:00.000-05:00

So I'm reading The Fall, by Albert Camus. It's an odd book because it's not really written like others. Normally you see actions behind the scenes, walking, leaving rooms, people sitting down, etc. The Fall is written so that you only hear what one man is saying about his story, without the thoughts of the person on the receiving end of the talking. It's a difficult read because following the actions is not the easiest thing to do, but it's still a pretty good book. Not the type that you can just up and start reading for something to do, you have to invest time and attention to it, which I haven't had much of lately.

Things.

2005-05-05T07:35:00.000-05:00

Things aren't going as well as I would like. Love's definitely not going to be my friend. Maybe I'll give up on the romance/relatioship thing for a WHILE until I can happen upon a woman that is into the same things at the same time as me.
Riding's good, as it should be, but I'm practicing to get better.
Recently bought "The Fall" by Camus and I am looking forward to some private time to read it. Going to Tampa next weekend so that should be some free time for me to read as it it a long-ish ride there.

Wow.

2005-04-28T14:50:00.000-05:00

almost a month and no posting. Me and John suck, really bad.

Poop.

2005-04-07T22:55:00.000-05:00

Poopy poop poop.
And the ensuing echo.
Therefrom.

Ouch.

2005-04-01T20:35:00.000-06:00

My fucking neck/jaw hurts. There's something swollen in my neck that I am told are my glands or something. It hurts. I've been feeling sick for three days, and my throat hurts, too. I am a very sad and over-fucking-medicated sumbitch right now. And the tea/beer combo is somewhat interesting. Makes me bitch on the internet like a schoolgirl ("Oh, I have another test tomorrow in chemistry; I hate school so much!").
And it makes me create funny videos on my digital camera to email to my brothers in Maryland.
A nice one:
Me to camera: Fuck you.
Me to Papa: You talk, too.
Papa: (grunt).
Me to Mama: Now you.
Mama: (In Baltimore accent) No, I wunna see...
Me to camera: Fuck you all!
Really, though, I love you all.

I'm in Hell.

2005-03-30T18:03:00.000-06:00

I swear I don't usually publish this stuff unless it's either funny or disturbing.
I took this damned damnation test with all honesty, and I got sent to the center of Hell. That's hard to swallow, even for me.
The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Ninth Level of Hell - Cocytus!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Very Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	Very High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Extreme
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	High
Level 7 (Violent)	Extreme
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Very High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Extreme

Take the Dante's Divine Comedy Inferno Test

So.

2005-03-24T10:02:00.000-06:00

Orestes was the son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra and the brother of Electra. When his father returned from the Trojan War, he was murdered by Clytemnestra and her lover, Aegisthus. Orestes, who was quite young at the time, went into exile and swore to get revenge. After he reached adulthood, he returned home secretly and, plotting with his sister Electra, contrived the murder of both Aegisthus and Clytemnestra. As a consequence of his deed, Orestes was tormented by the Erinyes, or Furies, who followed him everywhere he went. The Erinyes only stopped hounding him when he sought judgement for his crime at the Aeropagus in Athens, and was acquitted.

Sartre.

2005-03-20T17:32:00.000-06:00

I read "No Exit" recently, I actually finished reading it yesterday and found the greatest quote in it...so I'd thought I'd share:
"One always dies too soon-or too late. And yet one's whole life is complete at that moment, with a line drawn neatly under it, ready for the summing up. You are-your life, and nothing else."

I just thought that it was well presented.

Support our ribbons.

2005-03-09T20:56:00.000-06:00

No matter how you feel about Bush, the war, and America, this is funny.
I have one and have had another one stolen. Don't call me un-American, suckas. I drive a Ford, and I would hump the Statue of Liberty, if I could get up that high.

Poo-ing dog.

2005-03-06T18:57:00.000-06:00

I may or maynot have posted the infamous "poo'ing dog" , but I felt the need to do so again.

My kitchen counter.

2005-03-06T18:54:00.000-06:00

My counter in the kitchen, complete with 2 French Press coffee makers, also my little Italian pottery which say (right to left) coffee, fine salt, and sugar

"Bucks."

2005-03-06T18:07:00.000-06:00

Starbucks took a good thing that used to be an aquired, intelligent activity (gourmet coffee/cappuccino drinking) and made it mainstream. That's my beef with them. Nike, Apple, Microsoft and Ford all are in in business for mainly the same reason, making money.
Call me a coffee snob (I do all the time) but I believe that I'm "old school" coffee. I was trying new, fruit flavored blends of frothed milk and coffee long before "that corporation" had made it big time...at least on the east coast and where I had been before. Used to go to places that had good coffee because I wanted just that, quality coffee. Now, sitting in starbucks drinking a Venti Carmel Hazelnut Nonfat Late, while musing over your latest class assignment (or real estate deal) is the new chic. I was in starbucks just today, GASP!, and talking with a friend about it something similar to what I am saying now, and have said before. There was the college kids diligently studying with the ambient music provided, caffeine coursing through their veins.
For a po-dunk town like pensacola, where there's no art to speak of and probably not a whole lot of thought inducing locales, Starbucks brings with it a sense of worldism along with the other shops here: Pier One Imports, The Melting Pot (fondue), and the BMW dealership. It can help the citizens to think that this place does indeed, have culture and trick them into thinking something that wouldn't otherwise happen:What cappuccino mixture will I have to start my day today?

Funny you mention that.

2005-03-06T16:50:00.000-06:00

I have been luxuriating in French press coffee lately, too. Cleaning the damned electric model with vinegar has become a pain in the ass, and the smell makes me want to suck on the end of the exhaust pipe of the Focus, with that really stinky just started for the first time in two days and it was really cold last night stink. You know what I mean.

I had some Starbucks Italian Roast made extra strongly this morning, and oh my. Oh yes. Very good. Starbucks' Breakfast Blend is the smoothest thing (made by Starbucks, I mean) you can put in a French press. I think it's a good way to introduce a newby to the wonders of the French press. I just had some that I had bought to ease the transition for myself. Took only one cup, though, so I now I am onto my customarily strong roasts and blends.

It's okay if you don't hate Starbucks, Chris. Frankie and I had a long talk yesterday about why people hate Starbucks. I could go on about this, but I won't. We both know someone out west here who walked into Starbucks and said, "I can't believe I'm in here," but he went right on listening to his iPod and wearing his Nikes. Because Starbucks is the only evil corporation out there, right? Right.

Two days in a row.

2005-03-06T09:22:00.000-06:00

French press prevails...for the second day.
Split a 4 cup french press between two people, in 2 cups...that's how it's done in this house.

Assistance in the realization of the beauty of the French press.

2005-03-05T10:27:00.000-06:00

So...
I'm sitting here after a late (the soup bowl size coffee cup) cup of french press coffee. I dislike starbucks a lot, but there's nowhere else around here to get quality beans so I go with those. I'm drinking the blend of theirs today and it's swell. I introduced Sarah to the french press today and she says it's the bomb. After explaining why it's the bomb, which took a few minutes, she's on board with the new hotness. I will admit, I haven't had the french press coffee for a little while and I was thrilled to have it this morning. It was a kick-ninja-ass cup of coffee today.

and now for a little Snoop Dogg:
"So we gonna smoke a ounce to this
G’s up, hoes down, while you motherfuckers bounce to this"

From Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back.

2005-03-05T00:56:00.000-06:00

Fuck fuck mother mother fuck mother mother fuck fuck mother fuck mother fuck
Noich noich noich.
One two one two three four
Noich noich noich.
Smokin weed smokin weed doin coke drikin beers drinkin beers beers beers.
Rollin phatties smoking blunts
Who smokes blunts?
We smoke the blunts.
Rollin blunts...

For P.

2005-03-04T17:38:00.000-06:00

Motherfucker.

Can't spell, huh?

2005-03-04T10:48:00.000-06:00

To quote Hemingway:
"You rotten son of a bitch."

I kant hellp dat I kant sppel twwo godd, mawn.

Seriously, though, you're right. We do need to write on here more. What happened to the old caffeine-induced tirades? The booze-driven bitching? We should get alternately drunk or French-press-buzzed and post shit for the hell of it. Maybe we need some new blood, but it would have to be people we know and love and respect and cherish and etc.

Oh, and I don't remember the last time this word was on here, so I'll be like old school Nike and Just Do It:

FUCK.

There, it's been done. Let's get on with the show.

News.

2005-03-03T21:48:00.001-06:00

J can't spell...here's an excerpt from his blog where this is proven to the world that all that school don meen shit:

"(my own occasional depressions are in fact not volutary, to be sure, and I'd trade them for sunshine if I could)"

I love being this much of an asshole that I will not only write an email to John that he misspelled it, but also post to the world on our blog that he did it as well.

At least someone's posting here...

Ode to the CBR.

2005-02-22T22:18:00.000-06:00

ode to the cbr

Time for celebration.

2005-02-15T05:30:00.000-06:00

I will indeed put pictures up on the blog of this weekend.
It condradicts the meaning of the blog (in a way) with posting about a motorcycle freestyle competition, but we're admin here and what we say goes....fuk 'em if they don't like it.

I've been in a foul mood lately, I thought that taking off work was the relief to this problem, but that didn't work. I can't really get my thoughts together either.

French press coffee is done now, it's the only way to start the day right these days...

Yes do.

2005-02-14T22:44:00.000-06:00

Yes, pleeeaaassse post some cycle photos. And think about guest blogging on PRAGMATIK!

This weekend.

2005-02-14T19:32:00.000-06:00

It was insanity...that's about it.

Motorcycle stunters are a fun group to hang out with...if you like tearing shit up and throwing down like a 40 year old alcoholic. I have some pics that I can post up sometime

Tired of it all.

2005-02-08T23:01:00.000-06:00

I can't help but say that I'm tired in female/male relations at the time. Once upon a time I probably should have been a "normal" masculine male...overflowing with testosterone and not caring what any of the women think. Then I was brought up by a lesbian/man hater. Somehow I'm thinking that this had a permanent effect on my psyche. It's taken me 26 years to get to where I can stop giving a fucking shit about the things that the women around me that I am attached to care about. If I say/do something that offends them, should I really care? or not?
I spent years of my life getting kicked around by women, and after all that shit, I still continually lay my heart out for the women that I get attached to....so they can stomp it into the ground and have a fucking bonfire on the place where it once was. Maybe I'm TOO sensitive, and that would explain the mood swings and violent tendencies (which I have successfully curbed). I just now got over my last relationship that actually mattered...with Maria. I sent her an email saying that I hoped that she had a nice Carnivale, but there was no "I miss you", or "I love you still"...which had previously been included in Italian, to make her feel more emotion behind the words.

I could, of course, be over reacted to certain things in my life...but I don't know about that. Why is it so hard for me to have a normal life? Is that the "holy grail" for Chris? Can't I have an "as advertised" normal relationship with a woman for a change? I'd like it to work like that, but I am stricken with emotions for women that are currently unattainable to me, and it festers.

As a result of any stress, I recede into my music and my old companion, alcohol. I will not become a binge drinker like I did before though...this I vow to myself, before no one because there is no one to vow this to except myself.

If I wasn't too tired, I would go out and ride. There I can only concentrate on my riding and staying alive, alone I battle it out with the others in their cars and make it back to the house alive and unscathed, this time.

maybe I am over reacted and it's time to let go though???

Icy Hot?

2005-02-08T16:28:00.000-06:00

Are you minty fresh, man? I'm not. I smell like coffee and shampoo.

For C Man.

2005-02-07T10:53:00.000-06:00

Well, write something awesome, include some pix, and email it to me. I'll format it and publish it and it will kick ass:) Delicious!

We have found a 2005 Focus we really like here in Carbondale, but I don't want to jinx it. It's a ZX5 SES (top model) with the same sport wheels we had before, the ones you liked. And a 500 Watt Sony system with a sub. No moonroof, but I'll live. (You should see Frankie's hair with the one on the Mazda open!) And it's black.

The shitty thing is that, if we were just buying it and not taking a loss trading in a car we don't want, the deal would be amazing. Still, the payments will most likely work out to be the same. Which is expensive. But, if we're going broke paying for a car, we might as well like the damned thing, no?

Would be comment for Pragmatik.

2005-02-06T18:01:00.000-06:00

I think that you can get rid of the Maz, and the VW thing that was brought up is a swell idea. Very good cars. Just came back from Italy, and I've rented my share of VW Golf's. I liked a lot. Peppy and good mileage for petrol. I like the beard and you are a bAsTaRd because I can't grow one