What has become of US?

Yesterday was Memorial Day in the U.S., a day where we go to barbecues in parks to honor those who have died in service to their country. Usually it is a day of deep depression for me, second only to Thanksgiving, but for completely different reasons.

Yesterday, my wife and I went for a walk through Golden Gate Park that ended down at the beach to watch the sunset, enjoying the sunshine and the happy families. It was a small celebration of The City I love so dearly, with the woman I love more than anything else in a country I love so much that at one point I swore an oath to fight, kill or die for. The only thing that would have made the day complete heaven would be to have the Dirklings, and maybe a dog of some sort.

I didn’t even check email; I avoided the computer all day. Today, my inbox had the usual deluge of mostly useless crap. I do however subscribe to several good news sources, and email lists, that, time permitting, I read through. I was foolish enough to read a few of the op-ed pieces in the New York Times from Monday’s paper. Two pieces in particular were very telling. One, Over There, By Kevin C. Jones, told of a former Marine’s feelings about the deaths in a helicopter crash of Marines from his former unit. He was in the first Gulf War, and has been considering re-enlisting in the reserves. Another, called America, a Symbol of . . . By Bob Herbert was like being sucker-punched. The author is right in his opening lines,

This Memorial Day is not a good one for the country that was once the world's most brilliant beacon of freedom and justice.

State Department officials know better than anyone that the image of the United States has deteriorated around the world. The U.S. is now widely viewed as a brutal, bullying nation that countenances torture and operates hideous prison camps at Guantánamo Bay, Cuba, and in other parts of the world - camps where inmates have been horribly abused, gruesomely humiliated and even killed.

He concludes the piece ...

In the immediate aftermath of the Sept. 11 attacks, most of the world was ready to stand with the U.S. in a legitimate fight against terrorists. But the Bush administration, in its lust for war with Iraq and its willingness to jettison every semblance of due process while employing scandalously inhumane practices against detainees, blew that opportunity.

In much of the world, the image of the U.S. under Mr. Bush has morphed from an idealized champion of liberty to a heavily armed thug in camouflage fatigues. America is increasingly being seen as a dangerously arrogant military power that is due for a comeuppance.

We are all to blame. The blood is on all our hands

Those of you who voted for Bush’s reelection should be the most ashamed. With all the facts and the mountains of evidence of his incompetence, his murderous policies, his raping of the country’s environment, trampling our civil rights, and utter disregard for due process. You bear the most shame in our great country’s fall from grace. You are the true enemies of freedom and liberty, the ignorant who can be cowed into thinking the Moron-In Chief was the right choice. You are the fools who knee-jerk react to the filth on Fox news. You are the scared homophobes who desperately cling to a desiccated, perverted version of a religion who’s central tenant is “Love thy neighbor”, the teachings of a man who showed only compassion and kindness to the weak and the sick and the fallen; a man who only ever, EVER, lost his temper was in his Father’s temple when he saw all the commercialism and the greed. I challenge you to look at your convictions and your “Christian walk”. Take a cold hard look and if you can honestly say you follow the teaching of your savior when you protest at an abortion clinic when you should be providing foster care for children in need. Or, better yet, when you go to Wal-Mart or the shopping Mall buying shit you don't really need or even want, when you should be collecting blankets for homeless shelters, buying food for food banks. Do you really think your Savior, the very same one who healed the lepers and the Fallen Women, would condemn someone for something as arbtrary as their gender preference? Love is hard enough to find, much less keep without bullshit interference and outright hatred. Just who do you think you are, trying to deny any of my fellow Americans their inalienable right endowed by their Creator, the Pursuit of Happiness? And those of you who are the “moderates” of that religion, you should be ashamed because the others in your flock are besmirching the good name of YOUR savior and YOUR religion. Your silence equals consent of their egregious behavior. You are just as guilty as the friend of an alcoholic, who enables them to keep drinking.


Those of you who voted for that pack of Corporate Whores, and toadies who make less than $100,000 a year are stupid and weak and should be shipped off to Iraq or Afghanistan, or better yet, Uzbekistan, get the fuck outta my country. You are not needed nor are you wanted in any country that honors life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Get your pale, bloated, fat asses over to one of the countries we bombed and invaded. Deal with the mess you not only allowed, but SUPPORTED. You make me sick. Most of you never even served the country that houses your excesses. That is your Amerika, the repression and the unrecognized desires and longing in your deadened soul and numbed psyche that makes you supersize your fast food and allows your SUV to congest the roads, in spite of the fact that gas prices are rising faster than your cholesterol count. And you wonder why your kids are so fat and stoned. Every animal knows when it is trapped, and acts accordingly. You are poisoned and tainted, and you have passed that on to your progeny, forcing my children to have to deal with the world you continue to fuck up.


Those of us who voted for Kerry, we are to blame because we didn’t get enough other people to do the right thing and vote George the Idiot Boy out of office. We who stayed in our Blue States and Blue City enclaves, and failed to convince our families back in the backwater hometown that we couldn’t wait to get out of. Those of us who went to protests, yet didn’t write our representatives. A protest is nothing but sound and fury, signifying nothing. All we did was spend city money on security that could have been spent elsewhere like on our schools.

Those of us who didn’t vote at all are worse the horde of the deluded fools who voted for Bush. It was your sloth that helped destroy who we are as a country. You are scum, pure and simple. You are the chicken-shits that Niccolo Machiavelli instructed the Prince to ignore, because you are useless as allies, and insignificant as enemies. Sloth is my 3rd favorite Deadly Sin, but the Republic needed your voice to be heard, and you chose to ignore your civic duty.


I am disgusted, and ashamed of what we’ve become. Historically, we have many periods of ugliness, and depravity. Our golden ages have always been tinged with something we’re not too proud of. This current regime, and regime it is, is by far the worst thing to have ever happened to our country. Compared to these guys in office, the Nixon administration was a bunch of amateurs.

What is to be done? America is still one of the most beautiful places on Earth, and many parts our great country are still idyllic, in character as well as looks. There are still good people here, we need to do something to cleanse our institutions of what's plaguing us. It is a disease that will prove fatal if gone unchecked.

The Blank Page

"When looking to the Void, remember, the Void stares back"
Friedrich Nietzsche

Or so has been attributed to him. I haven't found anything attributing that to him. I think it's a yogi-ism, a quote that's been repeated so many times that it's either lost it's original quote or has been attributed to someone who's never said it on record.

"Mehr Licht!" Were Goethe's last words. I know this not from any book about him, or in any class I've taken. I know this from the time I was looking at a bust of him in Karlovy Vary in the Czech Republic. At the time it was known as Czechoslovakia. My father and I and my first wife had went into the newly freed Republic after Frank Zappa inspired Vaclav Havel's Velvet Revolution. Thanks to them, when my father came back to Europe after a forty year hiatus, we were visiting a city that was known by Goethe as Carlsbad.

In German, the "bad" means bath, and usually a city with the word in it, had some kind of natural spring, usually it was attributed with some kind of therapeutic properties attributed to them. Most of these towns existed before the Romans showed up and civilised the place. My favorite town with a Wine Festival was Bad Durkheim

Here is where it is in Germany


Partly because of the name, but also thanks to the Pagan nature of the festival itself has lived on after all this time with such little change.

It's definitely, a tribute to Bacchus or Dionysus, take your pick, the god who looks like Jim Morrison and had stories of death and rebirth before there was a Christ.The name doesn't really matter, because it's the festival that's trancsendant. At this festival the wine flows, golden and seet and crisp and dry and the meat-on-a-stick is deliscious, and the champignons or mushrooms and schnecken (snails) are devine in their sustenance.

In the halls, the liter glasses are constantly being refilled, and the people are jovial. Throughout the streets of the town, among the pedestrians, people toting squirt guns and plastic bopper hammers would tag others likewise armed. The Rules of Engagement were unwritten and seemingly unspoken, yet followed by everyone, even the American Servicemen.

Ah, those were the days. Germany had just reunited, and I would get free drinks seemingly everywhere. In conversation, I would be asked why I was in Germany, and why my German was so passable I would tell them simply that my father was in the Army from '49 to 51 and while here he learned German. He taught it to me when I grew up, and I always wanted to come to Germany, so I am now in the Air Force.

I'd invariably get a beer or wine and a toast to my dad. I don't know if I ever thanked him for all the free drinks I'd gotten thanks to him.

If there is an afterlife, I know there's a German version of it with a Bad Durkheim, and a Munchen.

Yesterday's post:

I wrote this on my commute to an evening out with friends, and when I got home it was too late for my daily post. I just recently transcribed it from the notebook I had with me.

The State of Things (Friday, 27 May)

Today I conducted an experiment of sorts. There's a laundromat a few blocks down the street from where I live , just out of walking distance, but too close to drive. When the dirklings are here, I want to see if the laundry can be done more frequently with a smaller payload, making it one of our regularly scheduled adventures. Laundry is usually an epic event, we put it off until practically every thing we own is dirty, so that when it's time there's plenty of sound and fury and high drama.

I had started the wash, and as I was waiting there, I checked out my local comic shop, Dr. Comics & Mr. Games. It's a small independent place, the people are courteous, knowledgeable, and best of all, they know when to leave you alone. That's a rare and beautiful experience in most retail.

Since I had commented on Giant Man recently, I checked out the latest issue of The Ultimates. Another thing I love about Dr. Comics is that they keep older issues on the shelves in case you've missed something. Conversely, if you come across something new, you can play catch up. It's also good business, because at three dollars an issue, it's quite a commitment to buy into a storyline.

Comics are never single issue stories, and with the advent of the trade paperback format, whereby the publisher releases a collection of a story arc for a title, it's sometimes preferable as a consumer to hold off buying to see how a story progresses before either buying the individual issues or to just wait for the trade to come out, and buy it all in one setting. And the cost is comparable either way.

There's a pleasure in waiting for the next issue in a series though. The anticipation is part of the thrill I remember about reading comics as a kid. A lot of what we call classic literature was originally in serial format. The Three Musketeers, Vanity Fair, The Count of Monte Cristo and I think also War of the Worlds.

There's definitely an art to writing like that. To craft a story that extends past the confines of the framework provided. Serials of any kind face that dilemma and it takes a fine balance to make a piece complete, yet part of a larger whole. To leave the audience wanting more.

My scriptwriting classes pointed out that in sitcoms for TV, you try not to have lasting changes to the major characters for syndication reasons. The re-runs wouldn't make sense if played out of sequence. Hence an easier sale to the local affiliates who don't feel forced to buy an entire series.

Comics have a similar constraint. Characters never really age and if they do, it's very slowly, over such a long time as to e hardly noticeable. The X-Men are a great example, as are the Avengers. Both of those titles are such soap operas, focusing at times on the character's interaction with each other almost to the exclusion of any real action.

Another consideration is that the writing is only one element in comics. Most people tend to notice the art first, and maybe then the story. The quality of comic book stories are almost a stereotype. That has changed a bit recently, especially with the successful adaptations of comics to other media. Writers are finally getting recognition, both good and bad.

There have been comics I've bought where the story was negligible, but the art was terrific. Most often it's the Bam! Pow! variety. There's also been as many if not more that I've bought where the story was great, but the art was mediocre at best. So, when I come across a storyline where the art and story are both entertaining, it's a real treat.

The Ultimates is a good example. The art is realistic, the colors lend the story gravitas, and the treatment of well-known iconic characters with so much baggage, (or, "equity" as they say these days) is refreshing. Captain America acts and sounds like someone from the Forties, for example.

Unfortunately, it feels like very little is really happening. You need to read several in a row to feel the story moving. This is a title I collect the trade paperback version. It would translate well onto the screen, either live action or animated. Big or small screen- preferably big. It's just very dialog heavy.

That was my dilemma; do I buy the individual issues or just wait? There was a collection of the first three of the new volume, and the one issue I've wanted since I'd heard of it (issue 6 check it out here), but did I want to make the investment? It was only about twelve dollars, but I'm not really flush with cash right now, and even when I am, that's a steep price for something I was brought up paying 25 cents an issue.


In this issue, Hank Pym, the outcast visits a startup group calling htemselves "The Defenders", and it's a good story, realistic as a comic can be, the gimmicks, like height, etc, are a smaller part of the story.




Even worse, he finds out that they've not only replaced him with serveral men who are better trained military types to take the name "Giant Man", they've made a breakthrough where they're three times bigger than his initial height of sixty feet . Wow, talk about size issues.

I can't wait for the next issue to come out, here's the cover.



Images courtesy of Marvel comics, inc.

I couldn't help but overhearing a conversation taking place behind me. Two women were talking. One voice saying that "He hates women." The other, essentially lobbing the conversation back to her friend, letting her do the talking.

"He's forcing Devon out. Soon, there'll be no women at all working there."

I'm paraphrasing, I had more important things on my mind, but I was curious.

"I can't do anything about it. But you can write to them and complain. Start a letter campaign."

Now I was interested. Any excuse to cause hell with hate-mail is alright by me. So I intruded on the conversation as politely as I could, offering to help. Turning, I saw them. One worked there, the other I'd never seen before.

The woman I didn't know, turns out, is a writer, and had worked for DC comics. I told her I'd never heard of her, and kind of regretted saying that. I don't like to crush people's ego unintentionally. Here I was, standing where her work was for sale and telling her I'd never heard of her.

Quickly I followed up with the caveat that I don't read DC titles, except for an issue of Catwoman I bought for my daughter last year. Almost immediately after she told me her name, I'd forgotten it; I was still thinking of my laundry and the comics in hand.

According to her, htere are oonly three women writers in the mainstream comic companies, i.e. Marvel and DC and some guy at DC was systematically getting rid of the women there.

I suggested she write about it in her blog. To, y'know, "Rouse the Rabble" as it were.

"I don't have one," she said, "I'm a Luddite."

"Oh come on, " I said "You're a writer, even that one guy has one." I couldn't remember his name. "You've heard about diepunyhuman.com haven't you?" It's Warren Ellis, but I always forget his name too

Shirking her shoulder"I'm a Luddite. I just bought a domain name last year."

"Even that one old writer. What's his name? "

- Blank stare -

"You know, wrote The Martian Chronicles?"

Her friend brightened up, he said "Ray Bradbury!"

They passed the cool test. Worthy of my help, I pressed on.

"He has written every day all his adult life. Nowadays, he dictates most of his stuff, but all the same. Even he has a web site."

"I'm a Luddite," a disarming smile flashed, or winced - I'm not sure which. I have that effect on people sometimes.

"Then I don't know how to help you."

As I paid for my comics, I said to the guy in the mohawk, "I hope I wasn't rude to that writer back there. I didn't mean to be."

"Ah don't worry about it." was the reply.

I'll never know for sure.

So, here's my contribution to the fight against sexism in the comic industry.

A woman I've never heard of got fired from a company who's comics I don't buy , because a man there whose name I don't know is trying to allegedly get rid of women in the comics industry.

I think that's wrong, and I urge all of you who read this and agrees with me, to think of something to do.

There's enough mediocrity in comics these days. I'm sure there's room for more women in the mainstream companies. Sequential art can be a noble art just like other forms of literature and entertainment. It can inspire educate and uplift, and we need them to give us heroes, because they are in very short supply in the real world right now.

I got this idea

I spent a good deal of time last night re-Learning Flash; one of the things I’ve always loved was that it’s vector based, so you do scaling with no loss of resolution. Everything is done with points and lines, not pixels. I’ve had a long-running idea of what I’d like to do if I had the time talent and cash.

I want to make a game.

I know, games are already made all the time in Flash, and it’s forefather, Director. I even made a couple myself in school. I know enough to be dangerous.

I want to do something along the lines of a superhero fighting game, and I want to have the ability to scale characters up and down in height. I’m not sure if I want to make it side-scrolling or Isometric with a 'board', or some way of running amok

Pretty articulate, eh? Well, I’ve played the Street Fighter series and all it’s incarnations, and I always wondered how characters would face off against someone with a vastly different size. In the Street fighter series, there’s a game of Street fighter versus Marvel characters and one of the playable characters is a Sentinel, a giant mutant-hunting robot. The big difference is that in the comics, these robots are 50-60 feet high, and in the game they’re about 12-15 feet. Still big, but not giant. They’re slightly bigger than characters like the Hulk and Juggernaut

I’ve also been introduced to games like City of Heroes and Freedom Force. Massively multiplayer online Games where you can do some serious copyright infringement and be a hero of your creation and go and fight evil. But again, no giants or tiny folk.

I have seen one game where there is a character who can change height and the two sizes offer different abilities. It’s called Godzilla: Save The Earth. THe web page is here. In this game it uses characters from the Godzilla franchise, one of whom is Jet Jaguar, an Ultraman ‘inspired’ character that starts out smaller and grows to giant height. When he’s smaller, he’s faster, and harder to hit with breath weapons and in hand-to-hand, but he does little damage. There’s an intro trailer - for fast connections just right-click here and save the link

It looks like a fun game, a kind of modern version of Rampage, only you can move around in a cityscape in 3d.

I was also inspired by a website that is now defunct; THE UNCANNY X-SPRITES. The creator of the site took sprites from the old Mega Man game, and modified them to look like X-men characters. I loved the humor, because he would always parody whatever story arc was going on in the comics. It hasn’t been updated in over a year, and I haven’t come across anything saying why. The URL is for sale now.

I would place a limit on height change, like a factor of 5 or 10, something that would keep out the kaiju. Even Godzilla, at his smallest was 50 meters, that’s over 200 feet. 60 feet is the original limit for the original Ultimate Giant MAn; there’s a team of them now in The Ultimates who are 180 feet, but the tactical advantage is unclear to me. That and

Sean McGuinness, aka Shin Goji, runs Twisted Kaiju Theater had a Q & A comic that covered this topic. The link is here.

This is all just a thought, I’m in no hurry to do this. I have a few ideas that sort of float around, waiting for the right time to germinate. William Carlos Williams had a poem about dreams being like seeds. I’m not sure much else about it, I read it in the 4th grade, and that’s all I remember is that dreams don’t have to die; they just need the right conditions to blossom.

Then again, in Doonesbury, Boopsie told Zonker, “Some old dreams need to die in order to make room for new ones.”

And on the Third Day

Third day of unemployment and I'm climbing the walls. figuratively and literally. I'm a dyed in the wool generalist, so writing is an easy subject, yet when I browse through the cragislist ads, I feel a little lost.


So I did what any good mediavore would do. I looked up some of the terms, downloaded examples and Got Smart Fast on certain conventions.

Take Flash for example. I haven't used Flash professionally since about 2002 or 2003. It was right before they released ActionScrtipt, a more robust version of the scripting language used. I had been working with Lingo, Director's scripting language, so learning it wasn't too much of a problem.

Over time, I forgot both. So tonight I re-learn. Much as if I were dropped down in the streets of Europe. I would need a drink, and a few moments, but I'd find my way around soon enough. I wouldn't be as sharp as when I was a decade ago, but I'm a bit more wise.

Tonight I learn Flash. I received an email about someone needing banner ads. I can animate. It's like riding a bike. You never forget. It just sucks when you're rusty.

I'll post my work and provide a link when I have something.

Good thing I don't need sleep

Well,

Day two and I'm still unempolyed.

I've checked severalonline jobsites and nothing. I even posted finished versions of my school projects here.

I had decided to bill myself as a copywriter based on a few things. First, I'm good at it. I'm also a bit of a know-it-all. and finally I'm a better writer than designer. I conceptualize well, so it should be no problem. Accoording to one of my teachers, Art Directors ar a dime-a-dozen, but I see so few posts for Copywriters either.

Tomorrow, I post my resume on craigslist, maybe that will help.

Thek dirklings come down at the end of June, so I need to make some money quickly.

I'll try to be more entertaining & informative tomorrow.

I'm beginning to think I'm cursed.

the New York Times had an article today about how the advertising industry is facing a serious shakeout.

Good thing I'm about a year away from graduating.

The article explains that companies are focusing on the bottom line now more than ever, and the old ways of advertising just aren't reaching people anymore. The bigger ad agencies aren't making the profits they are used to, and there's new competitors on the scene ready to pounce on business opportunities.

In an unrelated article, Mad Dogs is closing it's doors the ned of the month. Truly sad, they were a great agency.

Well, if we as consumers weren't flooded with information every second of every day, we might not have developed the filters we have.

Technology also helps. TiVo and Satellite radio and iPods are allowing people to get their entertainment free of commercials.

So, how do you sell stuff?

I'd say the first way is to not suck at what you do. For the past three years, my wife's company, Scathing Harpy Enterprises relied heavily on ads on www.craigslist.org and referrals from happy clients.

Another way would be to not saturate the world with more clutter. I am sick to death of the nike logo. After my first pair of Air Jordans, I swore not to wear another Nike Shoe again. That is, until I came across nikeid (www.nikeid.com/) Where you can design your own shoe. Mass customization is what online shopping was supposed to be about.

I already have an associate's in multimedia, so I'm familiar with some of the technology that the Times article talks about where the ad industry is headed, like GE's latest viral campaign where you send a virtual seed to a friend so it can grow. A sort of tomagotchi, I guess. Or even "Subservient Chicken" .

I'd like to see banner ads disappear. Or at least evolve into something beyond the animated quasi-game things currently en vogue.

Things like print ads and radio spots aren't going anywhere. The TV ad might evolve into something different, but will be around somehow.

There's always work for those who can adapt.

The circle is now complete.

I went to see the allegedly final installment of the Star Wars films, The Revenge of the Sith. I say allegedly, because there's always rumors of the next three movies, and of course there's the TV thing and et cetera.

This one delivered as promised. This one helped me remember why the movies are magic events. Tales told with broad brush strokes and lots of sparkles and sounds and fury. Of all the prequels, this was the most action packed and dramatic. Definitely a Faustian Space Opera. I don't want to ruin anything but the scene where Anakin becomes Darth Vader was cool by the sheer banality of the choice and the giving of his Sith name. When Vader is put in the suit it's chilling. The first several words spoken were in Anakin's manner, but with the old voice of James Earl.

We all know this is the fall of the Republic, and the rise of the Empire. The details as it played out are still exciting, and lots of suspense. I will be taking the dirklings to see this, but I know there are a few scenes that the Girl Cub will have problems with, she doesn't do well with impending doom, the suspense is what gets her, but she has no problems with senseless violence. She is her father's daughter. The Boy Child will do fine. He's my age when I saw the first Star Wars.


I was 10 years old when I saw the original Star Wars. I paid 2 dollars to see it and went at least 4 times. I liked the action figures, collected the comics. I wasn't a diehard fan boy or otaku by any stretch of the imagination, but I was hooked. I've owned a lightsabre whenever a movie's come out ever since. And they've always broken inside six months.

The Empire Strikes Back was a good movie, but it had a lot to live up to. Luke was such a pansy. Yoda was a cool muppet, but the big AT-AT tanks on Hoth were the bomb. The Tie Bombers were cool and Vader demonstrated why he was such a cool bad guy.

The Return of the Jedi was cool, except for those damn Ewoks. The best part of the movies were the little details, like how the main characters seemed genuine friends on a big adventure. The speeder bikes rock, and Luke whooped ass in Tattooine. I still don't get the Leia slave-girl fetish thing, I mean, yeah it was neat, but long chains around a princess' neck are always fashionable. At least here in the Bay Area. "I am a Jedi, like my father before me." was about the only time Luke was cool. His cloak rocked.

The Prequels

When The Phantom Menace came out, I was going through a divorce and the kids spent the weekends with me. I lived about two blocks from a theater that had it running so it was a Sunday Afternoon routine for awhile. That movie gave me plenty of opportunities to relay family values to my kids, like "Never gloat over an enemy until after you've killed him." and of course my favorite, "focus on your opponent, not his lightsaber".

I had to learn these things on my own.

It was on these Sunday Afternoons that I also learned of the Girl Cub's affinity for speed. She loved the Pod Race scenes and would sit on my lap and pretend to race the whole time it happened. The Boy Child loved the robots and that Anakin was a gadget freak, like he is.

"This party's over"

The Clone wars was cool too, but it was more political detective stuff. Christopher Lee is a total badass with the lightning and the cool one-handed sword. Watching Mr. Samuel L. Jackson lay the beat down was worth the price of admission.

Yoda as the whirling CGI dervish was cool. Once. After I'd seen it the first time in a room full of drunken rowdy Ren Faire types, it was a bit hackneyed. A badass has an economy of movement, and no need to be flashy. Also he's going against Christopher Lee, who has been a force of Evil since shortly after World War Two. He was a good guy in that war, a British Commando, even, so a muppet? no way. Watching Obi Wan hold his own against Jango Fett, mostly without the use of his llightsaber helped reinforce some of those old family values, "Use the Force, but follow up with a kick to the midsection"

Damn damn damn

I missed another deadline. So to speak.

When I was at my first base in Omaha, since I kept showing up late to work, they moved my start time by about 15 minutes. It got to the point I was showing up to work an hour and a half before everyone else.

Tonight, one of the local radio stations held their annual listener appreciation night, replete with fireworks. They always do such a good job.

The difference about tonight was we didn't imbibe too much, so we wandered around downtown San Francisco. I love that city so much. Ended up buying a couple CDs, Ray Charles, Ray's Greatest hits and Astral Weeks and Aretha Sings the Blues.

What a night.

I'd like to thank the academy

Thank you. To all my teachers, to my fellow students, to the Academy, my lovely wife, who stood beside me this whole time. To my kids who had no clue that I had struggled the way I did with class, but had a fun time here during their spring break with me, even though I was still in class.

I sent out about a dozen thank you emails in the past 24 hours. To pretty much everyone I worked with these past few months in school.

I was always taught that it's just what you do. I'm not being dishonest or obsequious in any way. People need to know that their work was appreciated, whether or not at the time I felt that way. I know I'm not the easiest person to live with, I've had to put up with me for years now.

I was reminded of some of the challenges I faced this term by going through my notes and my day planner. Thing that was important for me to remember when the times had become hard was that people were depending on me. Neither failure nor defeat is an option, I have a wife & kids who need me.

In interviews, most people who had committed great acts of bravery or heroism usually respond along the lines of 'well, I had to do something.'

Edgar Rice Burroughs summed it up in his 1st Warlord of Mars books, The Princess of Mars

"I do not believe that I am made of the stuff which constitutes heroes, because, in all of the hundreds of instances that my voluntary acts have placed me face to face with death, I cannot recall a single one where any alternative step to that I took occurred to me until many hours later. My mind is evidently so constituted that I am subconsciously forced into the path of duty without recourse to tiresome mental processes."

I've also heard the adage "A hero is a coward who got cornered"

I've also heard of this as a state of Zen, where the mind and action become one. the followers of the Way (Do) of the Warrior (Bushi) trained all their lives for that type of state, so that they could meet death as an honored guest.

Which is truly a beautiful thing until you realize that when the samurai and Bushido really flowered in the 15th century or so onwards, after the Tokugawa Shogunate (warlords) unified Japan and made it a peaceful country and cut off all trade with the outside world. essentially turning in upon itself. A sort of spiritual and cultural incest took place. What does a warrior do when there is no warfare?

Make no mistake. I do not consider anything I did these past several months extraordinary in any way. No, I know someone who deserves that distinction.

My father made a comment to my cousin while he was alive in LA. He said his children had been raised, and that he was done. His health had been deteriorating and he'd had a crippling case of arthritis for over twenty years. When I last visited him, he was in the hospital, his body wracked with pneumonia, and shutting down, but for some reason he held on.

I told him I'd miss him, but he had nothing to fear. He could let go. I thanked him for being a good father, and for showing me how to be one. I also thanked him for letting my kids know their daddy was once a kid too.

My brother flew in from Ohio and paid him a similar visit.

It's what you do.

After he appeared to get better, the apparatus of modern medicine was pulled away, he could eat without a tube, no more respirator, etc.. One night he had dinner with his youngest daughter, said goodbye, and that he loved her.

He died in his sleep that night. It's just the way he did things, no drama, no fanfare, just a quick and quiet exit.

I don't believe in any gods or higher powers. I also don't believe in any eternal reward, but I'm also comforted by the fact that there is no eternal punishment either.

You are born, you live, and eventually you die. Everything that happens in between is up to you.

It's just what you do that's important.

Welcome home Mr. Oxenreider.

Jeff Oxenreider left Taji, Iraq on the 16th of May, is currently in Texas, and will be home in Columbus Ohio with his wife and two daughters shortly. He was in Iraq for the past year as a civilian contractor, in support of the US Forces’ unlawful invasion and subsequent occupation. And I am so glad that his time there is over.

Jeff Oxenreider is one of my oldest friends; we grew up together in Columbus Ohio, Well at least from puberty on. We first met in Middle school; I think it was the 7th grade. Who knows & who cares? During high school we’d hang out, and our Junior and senior year we were a force to be reckoned with.

My parents had this philosophy that when you were eighteen, since you could vote, be tried in a court of law as an adult, could joined any of the armed forces and kill/die for your country, could marry, and many other things, you should be allowed to have beer in your own damn house.

“Would it be okay if I had a few friends over?” was my first question when they stated their beliefs and I was old enough to see the potential havoc

To say things got out of hand would be wrong. We’d have several dozen of our close, personal friends over most weekends for a “few beers and watch some TV.” Of course, all my friends were over eighteen; even the sixteen year olds.

To be fair, no one got hurt and it was only beer, and compared to some of the things I’ve done later in life it was all quite innocent.

In May of 1987, I joined the Air Force, I had joined to be a crypto-linguist, and they had sent me to the Defense Language Institute in Monterey, CA. I thought the rest of the Air Force was as lax as DLI; and had talked Jeff into joining as well.

Being Air Force on an Army Post is something you have to see to believe. It’s similar to the sense of entitlement Americans get when they’re abroad; most local customs don’t apply to them, and they break any rules that don’t fit their agenda because they think they’re immune.

Jeff didn’t do as well on the Defense Language Aptitude Battery, the test you take to see if you have an ability to pick up languages, and he joined without picking a specialty first, so when he went through basic training, he was only given a limited set of choices in schools he could go to.

Around the same time I washed out of DLI; Jeff was going to school in Mississippi to learn about radios. The Air Force sent me to Denver to be a Target Intelligence Specialist. There I learned how to read maps and aeronautical charts, how to interpret photography, what bombs were good for what kinds of targets.

Afterwards, I was sent to Omaha, and he to Frankfurt Am Main, Germany, the place where forty years earlier, my father paved the runway when he was in the Army, rebuilding Germany and parts of France after World War Two.

After a year in Omaha, I went to a little airbase in Southwestern Germany, a Tactical Reconnaissance Wing, no bombs, just cameras. It was like being invited to someone else’s birthday party. It was fun, planning missions and all, but there was no ordnance. And that's the fun stuff, really.

I loved my job.

I also came to terms with the fact that as a targeteer, the better I did my job, the fewer people actually had to die. I n a conventional war, you take out a command post, the front lines don’t have any direction. You blow up the supplies and munitions, they can’t fight, the war’s over, fewer dead grunts overall.

It was while I was at this sleepy little base that the first Gulf War happened. I went down for a few days to help my unit out with a few technical issues, and they sent me right back to close the base I was at. I think it was because I pointed out why there was a need for Tactical Reconnaissance, even though the Cold War was over; three of my five examples had happened.

But this isn’t my story.

The second time I went to Turkey, it was in support of Operation Provide Comfort. President George H.W. Bush hinted at supporting an overthrow of the Baathist regime, and when the Kurds in the Northern part of Iraq tried and were squashed, Mr. Bush left them out in the cold. Operation Provide Comfort was created on-the-fly to deliver food and humanitarian aid to the Kurds.

Every time I deployed, I flew into and out of Turkey via Rhein Main, hanging out with Jeff before and afterwards.

After our time in the military, I traveled and Jeff went back to Ohio. I know he never felt trapped like I did, so it made sense. He was always into computers and became a Systems Administrator of one sort or another.

We lost track of each other, and one day a few years back we started emailing each other, keeping in touch when time would allow.


Then came September 11th.


If you know any veterans, their first thought was “How can I help,” and their first response was to see if they were needed, especially if they were still young enough to possibly go back into the military.

I couldn’t go back, even though I could probably get my clearance back, and I have several skill sets that come in handy in this kind of war on terror. If that war was fought the right way. It isn’t so I’m not helping anybody do anything, except to vote the Fundamentalists out of every level of government I can.

After the initial shock, the current Regime, who already had their sights fixed on Iraq, looked for ways to make scapegoats out of that country.

Was Saddam an evil beast? Yep. Did he deserve to be removed form office? You betcha. Should we have gone in? No way in hell should we have invaded another country. We had our chance to topple them a decade ago, but didn’t. It was the only time we had the right to do so. Hussein invaded a country and for that he should’ve been taken out of power. But we didn’t.


But this isn’t that story. This is about Mr. Oxenreider.




It all started in the beginning of February of last year. Jeff had gotten a gig with a company with a government contract to support the troops in Iraq.


When I found out he did it, I knew why he had, so the only thing I could do was to offer advice. Stuff he already knew, but I felt I had to remind him about.


Simple stuff really; be nice to the locals, keep a pack of cigarettes to share even if you don’t smoke, check your shoes before putting them on, carry candy and stuff for kids, crap like that. It’s the little kindnesses can be the difference between life & death.


I used to check his blog daily. Then after awhile, every couple of days, then once a week or so. When he wouldn’t post, I’d get to worrying, but it would be because he was too busy.


In the end, he’s glad he went. More importantly, I’m glad he’s back.


This occupation is wrong, and history will remember it as such, but the men and women there swore to follow orders of their Commander In Chief, even if he’s G.W. Bush.

The Last Art Direction Class

I try to keep this space free from the whole "Dear Diary" thing. Even when I describe parts of my life, I try to inform entertain and educate.

Yes, I ripped that off of PBS. It works

Tonight was the last class for Art Direction. I have an o.k. eye, according to my teacher, but it's time to face facts; I'm a better writer than artist, so it's time to start admitting it as my trade.

So, tonight was an eye-opener for that, because I've never wanted to admit to not being an artist, or artistic in nature. THis is mainly because, when I was younger, I went to a vocational school for fine art, and was pretty good at it too.

Sort of.

I didn't think too highly of my work, even though others did.

That was a long time ago, and it's time to focus on doing what I'm good at for a living. I have a friend who lives in New York, and is a very good graphic designer, and has really good illustration work too. He's been wanting to make comics for awhile. I also have a friend in Oregon who's no slouch, either.

I can see it now...

There's a saying

That all hatred stems from self-hatred.

In light of the actions of all these allegedly Christian conservative office holders. Most recently the Mayor of Spokane Washington, Jim West. Not only has he been caught cruising internet chat rooms looking for 18 year olds. If you want to read the chat transcripts between a secretly gay Republican mayor and the guy hired by the newspaper to pose as an 18-year-old gay man,click here

I call West and his ilk allegedly Christian, because from my dealings with most real Christians, I have found most to be open honest people who believe they have a relationship with their savior and try to model their lives based on the teachings of Jesus and His disciples. Jesus, by all accounts went where He was needed, when He was in the dens of iniquity, not to cruise for a piece of the action, but to heal and to ease suffering.

In the scriptures, the only time He ever showed anger was when he came into the temple and saw all the money changers. I wonder What Would Jesus Do at an event like last Sunday, all sound and fury about opposition to fundamentalist judicial nominees, complete with Senator Bill Frist making a televised appearance.

I'm betting he'd be pissed, but I never gamble on anything I can't affect the outcome.

My topic, though is on the hatred these extremists have towards non-heterosexuals, when there are so many in charge that are closeted gay.Mayor west, for example, is also being charged with allegedly molesting Boy Scouts when he was a troop leader in the 70's. Mark Morford was a memgber of the Scouts in Spokane at the time and is quite articulate about the events here in his column.
He says

"Just to be perfectly clear, I recall no personal run-ins with West of any kind when I was a kid, save for the positive and the pleasant and the paternal. My memories of that time are admittedly vague and for all I know I was drunk a lot, sneaking rum into my Honeycombs, strung out on Twizzlers and Pop-Tarts and Totino's microwavable frozen pizzas, but I can tell you with all honesty, I have no deeply buried memories. I have no horrific sexual episodes that would only emerge through insidious regression therapy. I had, in fact, a perfectly lovely childhood, despite Boy Scout camp. And I am kidding about the rum."

I agree with him on this bit, because there is some causality.

"And someone should really do a national, once-and-for-all study to back up what everyone already knows -- which is, of course, that the more repressed and sanctimonious and uptight you are about sex and love and gender and religion, the more likely you are to be involved in secret kink, in deep perversion, illegal perversion, perversion that crosses the line from healthy and slippery and delicious to degrading and morally reprehensible and Karl Rove. Just ask -- did I say this already? -- the Catholic Church."

But the thing he points out, which is what I mean by today's title

"Here's what does it. Here's what makes West and people like him rife with potential for, well, some of the nastiest and most dishonest and dangerous abuses humans are capable of.

It's the ability to ignore the incredible hypocrisy of your own life, the staggering amount of self-loathing, the pathetic insincerity. It's the ability to join a political party that not only openly loathes, but actually violently condemns, your choice in sexual partners, a sexually ignorant platform that claims to have some sort of direct line to a gay-hating war-loving God, and then, in the middle of who knows how many gay affairs, to feel no shame as you step right up and endorse that exact same hateful agenda as public policy.

It's the fact that, in West's case, you can still sleep at night after you've voted against gay love and railed against healthy teen sex and bashed women's rights and criticized adult/youth sex when you are, in fact, so confused and lost and deeply engaged in much of it yourself that it's very likely your mangled, hypocritical mind has lost the ability to distinguish between informed, consensual, happily kinky adult relationships and, say, abusing the honest trust of a pre-teen boy. Or, for that matter, many boys.

"Join that party and toe that line and swallow that nasty doctrine and spit it out into the world like oozing red-meat dogma while you secretly use your power to lure in teenagers and men for sex, and I don't put anything past you, Jim. To my mind, you're capable of anything. Anything at all

And for that, my old troop leader Jim, I can never forgive you. "

I know, for example, that many of the elite of the Nazi party were gay. They were of the variety that worshipped the hypermasculine and who hated the effeminate, "degenerates" of Berlin and Paris, yet they used the Bathhouses of Munich to plan their own rebellion. The original leader of the Nazi Youth used his position to pick and choose his own young boys. The "night of the long knives" cut his career short. I just can't remember his name right now.

I have finals looming, else I'd be more thorough.

So, in the New York times, columnist Frank Rich writes "Just How Gay Is the Right?" (here)where he highlights a 1962 movie "Advise and Consent" about how a senator has a secret - he's gay. In the 50's and early 60-'s, in most states, that was illegal, and in others it was considered a mental illness.

He also points out in his article:

"What adds a peculiar dynamic to this anti-gay juggernaut is the continued emergence of gay people within its ranks. Allen Drury would have been incredulous if gay-baiters hounding his Utah senator had turned out to be gay themselves, but this has been a consistent pattern throughout the 30-year war. Terry Dolan, a closeted gay man, ran the National Conservative Political Action Committee, which as far back as 1980 was putting out fund-raising letters that said, "Our nation's moral fiber is being weakened by the growing homosexual movement and the fanatical E.R.A. pushers (many of whom publicly brag they are lesbians)." (Dolan recanted and endorsed gay rights before he died of AIDS in 1986.) The latest boldface name to marry his same-sex partner in Massachusetts is Arthur Finkelstein, the political operative behind the electoral success of Jesse Helms, a senator so homophobic he voted in the minority of the 97-to-3 reauthorization of the Ryan White act for AIDS funding and treatment in 1995."

Why does this happen, and why is there no outrage in either the conservative movement or the liberal camps when these outings occur. The conservatives pretend nothing happens, and the liberals don't seem to know what to do.

I think Frank Herbert summed it up quite nicely when he said

"All governments suffer a recurring problem: Power attracts pathological personalities. It is not that power corrupts, but rather power is a magnet that draws the corruptible."

This little Piggie

I was waiting for the BART the other day with a fellow student who is from Egypt. It was a long the day, and I was tired, but had nothing els to talk about, so the tale of ships and sails and sealing wax.

For some reason, we came across the topic of pork. My friend being Egyptian, and of course, a good Muslim, described the pig as a filthy animal.

I had to take the other side of the conversation.
You see, for the longest time, I didn't eat pork.
it's a long story, and I'm not in the mood to elucidate.

Recently though, I've come to respect why pork is in European's diet and culture the way it is.

The pig, or boar, as it is commonly known, is used in heraldry because of its ferocious nature. It is also one fertile critter, squeezing out a dozen or more piglets at a time.

In the Mediterranean, they are a bit of a problem, because, they eat the same things humans do, and unlike goats, they don't make milk that’s fit for human consumption, nor hair to use. Because of the heat they wallow in mud to keep cool. Hence, the

But in northern Europe, they eat nuts and roots, and stuff humans don't, so there's no competition. They are pretty intelligent; supposedly smarter than dogs. Which is one of the reasons settlers in America would take them. They'd set them loose every day, slop them twice a day, and they'd take care of the rest. Maintenance free critters they are. Plus they'd breed so well, as opposed to a cow, which would take a great deal of investment,s and would only rear one young at a time.

Simple economics, really.

I like my bacon, but it has to be fried hard. I don't cook swiner at home, but I'll occaisionally eat it when I'm out.l

I always wanted to go hunting for them. With a spear, and maybe some hounds. The old school way, like they did in Medieval Europe.

I know that since they breed so quickly, they’re a nuisance in Hawaii and here in California, so they can be hunted all year round.


Some day, maybe, Who knows?

I can see it now

Launch
http://www.launch.com

I just saw a video from Avril Lavigne, "He Wasn't" Uh, yeah. That's prepackaged pop-rebellion at it's uh, most sanitary.

I want to introduce her to someone with a little more darkness, like Glen Danzig.

It would probably go something like this:

Glenn, I'd like you to meet someone. Her Name's Avril, and she's Canadian. No, she's jailbait, so I don't care if she is your height, so hands off.

Avril, this is Glenn, he's been into evil longer than you've been Canadian. No, he's not a Republican, but close.

You know that skull shirt that your handlers bought for you awhile back? That was from a band called The Misfits. Glenn here (stop that Glenn), was the singer for that band back in the Eighties. Since then he's become more evil and runs a comic book company as well as making albums that scare people in the heartland. You know what comics are, right? Hey, just checking.

Now Glenn, I want you to behave yourself until I can distract her handlers long enough. You have 72 hours. Thank me by showing her the true power of the Dark Side.

Curses!

I missed my own self imposed deadline, yet again.

argh!

I did however write an editorial commenting on how Intelligent Design isn't, and ten billboard ads for the Ford Exploiter, ahem, Explorer, and a Camaign for a company that may or may not still exist.

Other than that, not much has happened today. Going out to a friends' house in a little bit to see how her birthday party is going.

Plus ca Change, Plus c'est la meme Change.

It’s just your tyical case of Art Imitating Life that wishes it was more artful.

My friend in the City So Nice They Named It Twice, Gotham, The Big Apple, NYC, called me up again. The last we had spoken, I was wandering the streets of Seattle looking for an appropriate gift for the Girl Cub. I had gotten an idea based on an old tradition of ours when we both lived in the same city at the same time. We would take long walks and I wouldn’t say we had conversations. We would exchange monologs.

We talked of martial arts, design; everything under the sun and no topic was too taboo or too sacred. The people we encountered on these walks we full of character, you couldn’t make these things up.

A longstanding comment was that we should make a play of our talks. We would of course stage this with multiple treadmills, so that we could walk with a scrolling background to give the impression of us walking. During intervals of the acts, various other performers would encounter us, by scrolling in on another treadmill, which would slide them across the stage if they were standing still, or at a different rare of speed or direction for the way we were headed.

We never did this play, for many reasons; mostly because we never had the time, money or real inclination to work that hard at something that wouldn’t yield that much profit.

Recently, I came across an article on Podcasting. here, and here, It was good to walk & talk with my friend even though we’re on opposite sides of the continent. Perhaps we’ll create podcasts of our adventures and make radio shows of it.

I’d like to do some radio spots and broadcast them on the web. I listened to a few of the old time dramas from the golden age of radio recently and that got me thinking about it.

In time, perhaps I will. For now, I have school to finish this coming week.

Tonight I finished my Account Planning class, and as is usually the case, my thoughts turn to failure. I am reminded of something I wrote about after our nation’s last Great Mistake; the last presidential election.

Slate had a series of essays about why the democrats lost, and this one struck a chord, thought I'd share it with my friends and family

http://slate.com/id/2109218/
Why Americans Hate Democrats-A Dialogue
The unteachable ignorance of the red states.

By Jane Smiley

She starts with a great line;

"I say forget introspection. It's time to be honest about our antagonists."

...

"Ignorance and bloodlust have a long tradition in the United States, especially in the red states. There used to be a kind of hand-to-hand fight on the frontier called a "knock-down-drag-out," where any kind of gouging, biting, or maiming was considered fair. The ancestors of today's red-state voters used to stand around cheering and betting on these fights."

I personally love watching things like the UFC (the Ultimate Fighting Championship), at least in the first couple tournaments, because it was a way to really see Darwinism at it’s purest. There are still Mixed Martial Arts tournaments, but it’s a bit too homoerotic for my tastes.

The Article goes on to say;

"The error that progressives have consistently committed over the years is to underestimate the vitality of ignorance in America. Listen to what the red state citizens say about themselves, the songs they write, and the sermons they flock to. They know who they are-they are full of original sin and they have a taste for violence. The blue state citizens make the Rousseauvian mistake of thinking humans are essentially good, and so they never realize when they are about to be slugged from behind."

I must agree. It’s good to have principals, but “Good” doesn’t have to equal “Stupid”. Funny thing is, I remember reading an article about that very thing in Dragon magazine back when I was a quasi-gamer.

She goes on to conclude what's been said elsewhere.

"Progressives have only one course of action now: React quickly to every outrage-red state types love to cheat and intimidate, so we have to assume the worst and call them on it every time. We have to give them more to think about than they can handle-to always appeal to reason and common sense, and the law, even when they can't understand it and don't respond. They cannot be allowed to keep any secrets."

It’s still good advice, and one that should be applied at the lowest form of government as well as the highest offices. Our Founding Fathers believed in Checks and Balances because they understood the evil nature of mankind.

I remember reading somewhere about how the Moral Majority had guides on how to infiltrate local political offices, like Board of Supervisors and the like, if I find it, I’ll post a link. Very subversive stuff.

Dr. Thompson summed it up best: “All politics is local politics” .

Yesterday's Post, or lack thereof

I apologize for not posting, but when I got home from class, I was too tired. I've been sweating these last final projects and it's to the point where I can't see straight.

Tonight's class is Account Planning. Today, my group and I are going to make a presentation out of thin air. I know some of us had done some research, and then nothing for a couple weeks.

4 students, 4 different approaches, 4 different answers.

I hate group projects. Especially when it's something no one wants to do.

I'll post again tonight.

The Grid

Over the weekend I bought for the Girl Cub an expensive pen and some grid pare notebooks. I love grid paper. I first came into common use of the stuff in Germany. I’d go to the Bahnhoff and get directions, sometimes, just to get the notes written by the station agents. I bought a few sketchbooks with grid paper for myself over the years, but I am a bit of a miser when it comes to buying supplies for drawing. The sketchbook I carry these days is decidedly low tech and cost effective.

I wish I had more to say on the matter, but in the next 48 hours everything will be due in my two in person classes.

No time to be more witty or observant today.

Sorry.

Every day's an adventure

The weekend was an adventure, as usual when I go to Seattle.

It was the Girl Cub's birthday. My lovely wife knitted her a scarf, and I promptly forgot it in Oakland. Saturday While they visited their Great-grandmother, I ran around downtown trying to find The Right Gift. In the Park Place Market, I found a boothie who sold me my graduation gift to myself.

In 1998 I graduated from the Art Institute of Seattle, for my hard work, and since I was going through the early stages of a divorce, I bought myself something nice; a fountain pen.

The pen was made by a local artist, and I wanted something special to sign special papers, like contracts. I saw an illustration once of several people around a table, and one was drawing on the tablecloth using a fountain pen. It just seemed classy.

So, I bought an 8 year-old little girl a $30 dollar pen. A little while later I bought her a set of moleskine gridded notebook. I spent the rest of the day telling her I bought her a roll of paper towels as a present.

Sunday was the day of her party. As the Sacrificial Parent, I played with the kids in the pool, tossing them about, and somehow ending up with far more kids than when I started. That always weirds me out a bit, because I kinda wonder where their grownups are, and more than a little flattered that they think I'm safe.

During the opening of the presents, She got cool games from her guests, that could be either solo or group play. Very cool.

When She opened mine, I told her the story behind why she got the pen and who else has used notebooks like that.

I scored big.

She took both the sketchbook and pen with her everywhere.

Last night I read too long to the dirklings at their mother's house. Big mistake. I wanted them to get as much quality time with me while I was there. While boy-cub bathed, Girl-cub watched Astro Boy, and when the Girl Cub bathed, I read to my son from a book I bought him a few years back.



"D'Aulaires Book of Greek Myths" was something I read religiously in the 3rd grade. I spent a lot of time reading the stories in the library, I think for awhile, I was the only one who checked it out that year.

On the inside cover I wrote a dedication;

Dec 2003
"Owning a good book is like having a good friend. You can visit often and at any time. I first read this book when I was in the 3rd grade. So, in a way, I'm introducing you to an old friend of mine.

Read this often and you will be richly rewarded.

Love, your father,

Dirk "

So, they stayed up a bit too late, there was of course much drama, and the kids got up without a problem.

Monkey Traps

In todays's tarot reading, I came across a card titled The Devil. The Devil is used not as the Judeo Christian character who commands the forces of evil, but more of being enslaved to earthly passions. In its description, it mentions the monkey trap.

I remember hearing about the monkey trap as a young boy. I asked my father what it was, and he told me this;

"The monkey trap is a jar with a narrow opening and some kind of a prize in it, like a piece of fruit. The monkey can put its hand in with it open, but when it holds the prize, it cannot pull it out. You can then just walk up to the monkey and capture him, because it's so intent on getting the prize, and won't let go. "

I remember asking him, "Why doesn't the monkey turn the jar over and spill it out, or break the jar?"

"That's part of the trap. The monkey only thinks of one way to get the prize. You see them howling and struggling, and it still wont' let go, even though it sees the human coming."

It's always a nice surprise when I remember things like this. As an American, I am rootless by nature, constantly looking forward, focusing my energies on the future and what it will bring.

ON the Bus

I spoke German conversationally for the first time in quite awhile today. I was on the bus and two older ladies got on in mid conversation, and the topic led to food which led to the similarities of Russian and German cuisine. One lady mentioned a possibility that because it was that they were so close together.

I had to interrupt.

I told her that Peter the Great invited Germans to Russia to help modernize his country. I later asked the remaining lady if she was German, in German. I used most of my "bahnhoff deutsch" and it was nice to understand a non-english language going on. I feel so stupid that I speak no Spanish.

I just have to learn.

Deja vu in Kansas again?

What, really, is wrong with Americans these days?

Is fear and ignorance really that pervasive, or is it something else? Something perpetrated by a vocal, fanatical minority is making claims that on the surface appear moderate or at least cogent, that with a little more than a sideways glance reveals that these are coordinated efforts to consolidate positions of authority at every level of society.

From complaints to the FCC about "objectionable" material that focuses on sex, but not violence to this garbage coming out of Kansas and Ohio about challenging the Theory of Evoltution, this time pointing at it obliquely, using hte term Darwinism, and now avoiing the term "Intellignet Design", which is just a euphemism for "Creationism" which is in turn another term for "Religous fundamentalist". Now, they are not trying to get Evolution removed entirely, they just want it questioned in the classroom. Once that happens, it's just a matter of time before the changes start.

From the New York Times:
"In Kansas, Darwinism Goes on Trial Once More"
here

TOPEKA, Kan., May 5 - Six years after Kansas ignited a national debate over the teaching of evolution, the state is poised to push through new science standards this summer requiring that Darwin's theory be challenged in the classroom.

In the first of three daylong hearings being referred to here as a direct descendant of the 1925 Scopes Monkey Trial in Tennessee, a parade of Ph.D.'s testified Thursday about the flaws they saw in mainstream science's explanation of the origins of life. It was one part biology lesson, one part political theater, and the biggest stage yet for the emerging movement known as intelligent design, which posits that life's complexity cannot be explained without a supernatural creator.

Darwin's defenders are refusing to testify at the hearings, which were called by the State Board of Education's conservative majority. But their lawyer forcefully cross-examined the other side's experts, pushing them to acknowledge that nothing in the current standards prevented discussion of challenges to evolution, and peppering them with queries both profound and personal.

"Do the standards state anywhere that science, evolution, is in any way in conflict with belief in God?" the lawyer, Pedro Irigonegaray, asked William S. Harris, a chemist who helped write the proposed changes.

When a later witness, Jonathan Wells, said he enjoyed being in the minority on such a controversial topic, Mr. Irigonegaray retorted, "More than being right?"

The problem with that is the Forces of Ignorance are using real scientists' refusal to participate in the farce for their own purposes.

But Linda Holloway, a member of the 1999 state board that dumped evolution, said the mainstream scientists' failure to participate in the hearings signaled that "they're afraid to be cross-examined, they're afraid to defend their theory."

The worst part is that Kansas isn't alone in this foolishness.

If the board adopts the new standards, as expected, in June, Kansas would join Ohio, which took a similar step in 2002, in mandating students be taught that there is controversy over evolution. Legislators in Alabama and Georgia have introduced bills this season to allow teachers to challenge Darwin in class, and the battle over evolution is simmering on the local level in 20 states.

The article also states;

"While the proposed standards for Kansas do not specifically mention intelligent design - and many of its supporters prefer to avoid any discussion of it - critics contend they would open the door not just for those teachings, but to creationism, which holds to the Genesis account of God as the architect of the universe."

Then what? Dress codes to prevent "indecent" clothes like pants for girls? Mandatory drug tests for high school atheletes? Mandatory school prayer? Schools are already forbidden to teach reproductive health issues with kids aside from abstinence only. And we wonder why unwed pregnancy is an issue. That and childhood obesity. NAd school shootings are becoming more and more prevelant.

An animal knows when it is trapped, and acts out accordingly.

Sloth... Continued

Today's post is a little earlier than usual because I have my account planning class tonight, The Burning Man ARTery crew is meeting tonight, and my wife is going there while I'm at school and then we're going to go home together. I'm going up to Seattle for the weekend. While doing research for another class, I did a quick browse for "Giant Ground Sloth", and pulled up the BBC site, the discovery site and a couple others of note. The proper name is Megatherium

The BBC page ) has a cool little quicktime animation of how the megatherium walked, and links to other information of the world in which it lived.

The most interesting page I came across was from a man who lives in Tabriz in Northwestern Iran. His page holds a theory that the gravitational pull on earth was not as strong during prehistoric times and that is why dinosaurs could grow to such sizes. Interesting theory, but I have to disagree. Since the Earth's mass hasn't changed any, why would gravity behave any different?

Now it is true that the earth's magnetic poles have changed throughout its history, but I don't know all that much about it. I have finals due and I can't go down that rabbit hole just yet.

Finally, yes, you practice going slow in tai chi so your body learns the movements correctly and can do them quicker when needed, because the muscle memory is there. It's also akin to the Japanese Tea Ceremony and all things Zen. You spend you time in contemplation of the moment.

Or so I was taught.