This quote, from the movie preview (not sure if this line actually made the cut) for Cold Mountain, has always made me laugh. I don't really know why; perhaps it's just her hilarious southern drawl. Or maybe it brings to mind a very stereotypical Scarlett O'hara romance novel cover, complete with me in an overly aerated pirate shirt and a background 3 mph southwest wind. An excerpt from said fictitious novel, tentatively entitled "Wanton Wastrels of the ADA":
~
Andrea appeared from over the gentle slope, riding a chestnut mare with a pleasant temper. The brilliant oranges and yellows of the sunset framed her perfect form, the oncoming dusk reminding me of her eyes. Her red peasant dress was open, hinting at her gentle curves. Also, she apparently never wears shoes or socks when horseback riding.
~
At any rate, this applies to my blog, as I have ignored it for some time. I offer no excuses or even promises for the future. Simply feel content I feel like writing. Maybe it'll grow on me and I'll keep it up.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
On General Stupidity
I am so sick of people.
Earlier this week, a fellow by the name of Osama Bin Laden met his end by the hands of a U.S. operative. While this end was definitely well earned, I took no joy in it and said as much on my facebook page. And so the great stupidity storm began.
Initially there was good, healthy debate. Was he or wasn't he responsible for the deaths of soldiers, were we in Afghanistan to get that guy or was it just resources, etc. The healthy debate didn't last long though. Very soon, the fecal fling fest started. I got compared to Nazis, accused of supporting terrorism and insulted in general BECAUSE I took no joy in the death of this man. It's funny how the less information people have, the stronger their opinion is.
If we could shift our focus away from killing each other and focus long-term, we as a species would be much more likely to survive the next 500 years. What if all the money poured into weapons development went into space programs and the sciences instead? Could you imagine the amount of progress we could make if we decided to work together instead of scrapping over dwindling resources? If we started thinking of ourselves as a species rather than little warring factions we could truly show some of our staggering potential. As things stand though, I'm betting we all kill each other off or make our planet simply uninhabitable in the next 150.
I know this post doesn't really fit the theme of this blog, but I'm just so damn sick of stupidity holding us back. I'm by no means immune or better than anyone else, and the amount of idealism here is borderline absurd. But wouldn't it be nice?
The great teacher Carl Sagan put it best:
Earlier this week, a fellow by the name of Osama Bin Laden met his end by the hands of a U.S. operative. While this end was definitely well earned, I took no joy in it and said as much on my facebook page. And so the great stupidity storm began.
Initially there was good, healthy debate. Was he or wasn't he responsible for the deaths of soldiers, were we in Afghanistan to get that guy or was it just resources, etc. The healthy debate didn't last long though. Very soon, the fecal fling fest started. I got compared to Nazis, accused of supporting terrorism and insulted in general BECAUSE I took no joy in the death of this man. It's funny how the less information people have, the stronger their opinion is.
If we could shift our focus away from killing each other and focus long-term, we as a species would be much more likely to survive the next 500 years. What if all the money poured into weapons development went into space programs and the sciences instead? Could you imagine the amount of progress we could make if we decided to work together instead of scrapping over dwindling resources? If we started thinking of ourselves as a species rather than little warring factions we could truly show some of our staggering potential. As things stand though, I'm betting we all kill each other off or make our planet simply uninhabitable in the next 150.
I know this post doesn't really fit the theme of this blog, but I'm just so damn sick of stupidity holding us back. I'm by no means immune or better than anyone else, and the amount of idealism here is borderline absurd. But wouldn't it be nice?
The great teacher Carl Sagan put it best:
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
An Excercise in Character Acting
It has been a while. So a few weeks ago I saw this post (WELL before Mackenna, I might add) and thought it would be fun to try. I've always been told I have an extremely expressive face and even used to entertain myself with that face as a child, so I thought I'd give it a go.
I knew I'd need some situations and so I drew upon the endless creativity of my lovely wife. The following are the situations and corresponding faces in order:
1. You're about to give a speech to the PTA when someone's cell phone goes off.
2. You're a child meeting a real live superhero.
3. Your blind date is going well until you realize that you're actually second cousins.
It seems to have turned out rather well, if I say so myself.
I knew I'd need some situations and so I drew upon the endless creativity of my lovely wife. The following are the situations and corresponding faces in order:
1. You're about to give a speech to the PTA when someone's cell phone goes off.
2. You're a child meeting a real live superhero.
3. Your blind date is going well until you realize that you're actually second cousins.
It seems to have turned out rather well, if I say so myself.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Forthcoming....
As per the vote on Andrea's blog, I am in the midst of creating something which will be impossible to top. Stay tuned.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Does reality actually matter anyway?
How Fidel and I interact in my mind:
-------------------------------------
The rain had stopped.
The armored cat, his braided black mane swaying in the earthy scented breeze, nuzzled his beloved master. The man examining the fresh tracks in the oozing dark mud grinned with the anticipation he felt eminating from his panther-like companion. This hunt would be good.
"Yes, Fidel. It's close."
The worg pack had left much of its spoor for them to find. A bit of sinew there, some pressed grass where they had lain and the constant reminder from his feline friend of their omnipresent feral scent was nearly overwhelming. He tightened his grip on the spear and double checked his sword and stood. A growl, almost like laughter, emanated from the hunting cat's throat.
"Lead on, boy."
Fidel needed no further encouragement and made for the forest, melting into the shadows within an eye's blink. Even fully armored, the great cat made no sound. His hunting partner felt the same growling laughter rise from his own throat and just as stealthily entered the woods.
To be continued.....
-------------------------------------
The rain had stopped.
The armored cat, his braided black mane swaying in the earthy scented breeze, nuzzled his beloved master. The man examining the fresh tracks in the oozing dark mud grinned with the anticipation he felt eminating from his panther-like companion. This hunt would be good.
"Yes, Fidel. It's close."
The worg pack had left much of its spoor for them to find. A bit of sinew there, some pressed grass where they had lain and the constant reminder from his feline friend of their omnipresent feral scent was nearly overwhelming. He tightened his grip on the spear and double checked his sword and stood. A growl, almost like laughter, emanated from the hunting cat's throat.
"Lead on, boy."
Fidel needed no further encouragement and made for the forest, melting into the shadows within an eye's blink. Even fully armored, the great cat made no sound. His hunting partner felt the same growling laughter rise from his own throat and just as stealthily entered the woods.
To be continued.....
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Gobama!
I have officially cast my vote and now I can only hope for the best. If McCain wins, my wife and I are moving to Australia. That is all.
Monday, May 5, 2008
My Eternal Nemesis
For many, the long search for a worthy opponent is a greatly rewarding thing. Most super heroes learn a great deal about themselves when confronting their most feared adversary. As fate would have it, my arch-nemesis is a weatherman. Grant Weyman.
As the name crosses my lips, a bitter taste fills my tongue. Many angry, unheard (but certainly NOT unspoken) rants jump to mind. There were days when I didn't have my hopes dashed every morning at approximately 7:30 am. There were times when all the world was at peace because we knew what the weather would be like the next day. Partly cloudy, 72 degrees Fahrenheit.
My age old foe has brought with him a new weather forecasting style, however. The tyranny is as follows:
"Going to be a bit chilly the next few days, so keep those warm winter coats out! (as an aside, I simply refuse to quote the improper grammar. It's a miracle how low the standards for being "Literate" are these days.) Warmer, more seasonal temps by the weekend."
A few days pass.
It is now the weekend. 7:30 am rolls around and I'm on the computer, hoping against hope Grant Weyman hasn't betrayed the trust I so unwillingly give him. The forecast:
"Going to be a bit chilly the next few days, so keep those warm winter coats out! Warmer, more seasonal temps by the mid-week."
And my heart falls.
It isn't so bad now, after almost a year of unending, blatant disregard for the science known as 'meteorology'. My mind has learned to dull the pain by ritualistically adopting the same small hope each day knowing it will be blasted to pieces. Life is hard under The Weyman. All us peasant folk knows it too.
I fully realize this has gone beyond sane and normal levels of dislike. But if I were to have any wish granted me, it would be a sabre duel with the man on a bridge. I could then die happy, having truly lived.
In the words of immortal William Wallace "Every man dies. Not every man really lives."
Carpe diem.
As the name crosses my lips, a bitter taste fills my tongue. Many angry, unheard (but certainly NOT unspoken) rants jump to mind. There were days when I didn't have my hopes dashed every morning at approximately 7:30 am. There were times when all the world was at peace because we knew what the weather would be like the next day. Partly cloudy, 72 degrees Fahrenheit.
My age old foe has brought with him a new weather forecasting style, however. The tyranny is as follows:
"Going to be a bit chilly the next few days, so keep those warm winter coats out! (as an aside, I simply refuse to quote the improper grammar. It's a miracle how low the standards for being "Literate" are these days.) Warmer, more seasonal temps by the weekend."
A few days pass.
It is now the weekend. 7:30 am rolls around and I'm on the computer, hoping against hope Grant Weyman hasn't betrayed the trust I so unwillingly give him. The forecast:
"Going to be a bit chilly the next few days, so keep those warm winter coats out! Warmer, more seasonal temps by the mid-week."
And my heart falls.
It isn't so bad now, after almost a year of unending, blatant disregard for the science known as 'meteorology'. My mind has learned to dull the pain by ritualistically adopting the same small hope each day knowing it will be blasted to pieces. Life is hard under The Weyman. All us peasant folk knows it too.
I fully realize this has gone beyond sane and normal levels of dislike. But if I were to have any wish granted me, it would be a sabre duel with the man on a bridge. I could then die happy, having truly lived.
In the words of immortal William Wallace "Every man dies. Not every man really lives."
Carpe diem.
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