Make sure you watch part 2 and part 3.

She's also got a blog where she shares more ridiculous food love. Like dead cobra whiskey. Yum. And she's an artist outside of the LSD-fueled food medium. And wouldn't you know it, that work is great, too. I especially love her intaglio prints. .

Thu Tran may have won me over, but only at the high cost of enforcing my disturbing belief that good things are only coming from Williamsburgians these days. Come on, creative folks in less-fashionable burgs! We shall overcome!

How do I know this?

Because I had the displeasure of reading the interview today, not from an Internet archive, but from an actual copy of the original magazine.

One of my colleagues retired, and in the clearing of his office he had left, outside his door, for whoever might want them, some old magazines. The Esquire one with the Sartre interview caught my eye, and having long considered myself an existentialist sympathizer, I thought I would like to see what was animating the old intellectual icon way back in 1972. 

Unfortunately, I did not like much of what I read at all. It was a truly dismaying experience, perhaps on a par with Barack Obama's dismay with his old pastor, the Reverend Wright.

I thought I would share a few of the quotes from the interview.

First, I was shocked at Sartre's unreconstituted Marxism, and support for communism, both Soviet and Chinese, which, if this interview is any indication, clearly obsessed him above all other concerns. He seems so one dimensional and dated here, that it is simply difficult not to whince. 

Perhaps this should not have surprised me. I knew Sartre was sympathetic to communism, and I've always held this against him without abandoning the other aspects of his existentialist philosophy that I regard as valuable, but in this interview his Marxism struck me as unnuanced and even cartoonish, a kind of parody of itself. Here, for example, is his critique of French conservative Jean Francois Revel's book, Without Marx or Jesus:

I don't know what he means by revolution. . . . [H]e doesn't speak of a cessation of the division of labor, of seizing the means of production for the collectivity, or of a withering away of the State. (282)

Well, shame on a conservative for not accepting Marxist premises! Imagine that.

And asked why he is not a Maoist, Sartre said:

Because at the present time to be a Maoist in France you can't be over thirty. For physical reasons, first of all: if you're trying to get away from guys who are charging you with clubs, and you're sixty-seven and have arthritis, you stop at the end of fifty yards! Furthermore, the true Maoist is capable of entering a factory and working on an assembly line. I am no longer able to do that. I am too old. (280)

In short, he would be a Maoist if he was young, didn't have arthritis, and had the energy for factory work--none of which, conveniently, applies to Sartre. The great exponent, in the 1940s and 50s, of anti-essentialism (the assertion that our nature is not fixed, that we have choices, and that the future is open to us) now appeals to essentialism to explain his not being a Maoist. I've got bad knees! I'm over thirty! Factory work is not for an old man!

You might argue that this is Sartre acknowledging honestly his "existential situation," and making choices from where he is at, but it seems to me that Sartre was then otherwise oblivious to what other people's limits might be. Sartre wanted to see the whole world set into extremity by Marxist revolution, which would have taxed the limits of many people, young and old, far beyond Sartre's own protests against his own degree of commitment (age, arthritis, unsuited to factory work).

Sartre thus seems glibly oblivious to his own bourgeois hypocrisy. He is like a contemporary mega-church minister driving a Mercedez-Benz and talking about selling all you have and giving it to the poor.

Still, Sartre's private excuses for not following through on his highest ideals is somewhat forgivable. We all make excuses, and sometimes even relying on lame ones is good if it stops you from feeling compelled to follow a questionable syllogism to an absurd or self-destructive conclusion (such as becoming a Maoist). Sartre, it appears, still had a healthy instinct for self-preservation and maintaining a bourgeois routine in which he could continue to talk daily, over a pastry, in the sunny Parisian afternoons, with Simone de Beauvoir.

Nevertheless, what is far less understandable is his obnoxious and absurd comments about the Mona Lisa and the jailing of professors in a hypothetical cultural revolution in France. Here's the interviewer's question, and Sartre's full answer:

Interviewer: Imagine a cultural revolution in Paris. Would you try to stop them from burning the Bibliotheque Nationale, the Mona Lisa, etc.?

Sartre: The Mona Lisa, I'd let that burn without giving it a second thought, but I do think I would try to protect some other things. Whether I'd succeed is another question. But I think I would say: let's put this aside, we'll discuss it later.

I wouldn't really see anything wrong with burning professors because some of them are criminals; but actually I would insist that they be left in cellars for a certain time, like paintings and books during the war, and that they be discussed with a clear head once the main action was over.

But when I think of the Mona Lisa! There are some things that really are of no use at all, none at all! For a long time the Mona Lisa's smile has only served as a cliche for bad writers! That smile used to be something, now it is nothing, it is hollow. The best thing that I've seen on the Mona Lisa was a photomonatage: the only original use of the Mona Lisa since I was born! For me, it is absolutely typical of paintings that no longer have anything to say, while other paintings by da Vinci or Tintoretto can still mean something. (284, 286)

In the interview, there is more of Sartre going on in a similar vein. For example, he speaks of literature, after a Marxist revolution, as being thoroughly politicized, and he does so with approval. He thinks, for example, that Madame Bovary might not fare too well in a Marxist future, except as a historical curiousity, and as far as Sartre is concerned, the book could, without regret, be bidden a good riddence.

He also speaks with hope of the day when writing will be a collective product, and not attached to individual authors. In other words, one of the greatest of Western Civilization's cultural products, the assertion of persona onto the stage of existence, is something Sartre wishes to see an end to. How terribly Orwellian. 

For all Sartre's greatness as a philosopher, novelist, and playright, as a public intellectual opining on revolution, art, and literature, such statements are simply unforgivable. Sartre fought totalitarianism in World War II, but in his maturity and old age he seems to have morphed into the crassest of totalitarians himself.

How very, very tragic.

Thankfully, existentialism has a life beyond Sartre, and needn't be chained by his political and aesthetic stupidities. I like reading, for example, the old 1950s books on existentialism by Hazel Barnes, a female academic who was the first translator of Sartre into English, but who, in her own writings, gave existentialism a decidedly American strain, free of anti-capitalist bromides. 

Randy Olson presented fiction as fact in his anti-ID documentary Flock of Dodos. But rather than apologize for his film's repeated bloopers and misrepresentations ...

Repeated bloopers and misrepresentations? I have been scouring the Discovery Institute's blogs to find all their criticisms of "Flock of Dodos." I have only been able to find two realcriticisms: the Haekel drawings in textbooks and the Discovery Institute's budget. You would have thought that in a movie that runs nearly an hour and a half, they could have found more "repeated bloopers and misrepresentations."  The film has quite a few tidbits of information that support evolution and/or discredit intelligent design. I don't see any complaints about the poorly designed digestive system of herbivores or weak heart architecture. There is no talk of the vestigial pelvises of whales that was shown in the film.  I guess the Discovery Institute is too busy focusing on segments of the show that totaled all of maybe 5 mins.  Since the criticisms largely focus on Haekel drawings and the budget issues, I will focus on them.

First, let me say this, I don't think it matters too much to the modern theory of evolution that Haekel faked his drawings. If you look at real micrographs of developing embryos, you see a surprising amount of similarity. Look here and here. The idea is that there is a conserved genetic blueprint that is followed to varying extent in animals, not evolution recurring during embryogenesis as Haekel believed. Not the strongest support for evolution, but it is line with the existing theory. If animals were designed, wouldn't it make sense that they would look as different during development as they do when they are fully grown?

Second, Olson did not say that you would not ever find any references to Haeckel's drawings. He said that they have been largely removed and when they are present is in the context of history. From this  post by John West:

But it turns out that Olson is the one who is promoting a fraud. The diagrams in question were unquestionably used in modern textbooks, and Olson himself knows that fact.

Here is the what Olsen said during the movie:

No, you don't find it, there's no trace other than a mention that once upon a time Haeckel came up with this idea of ontogeny recapitulating phylogeny

So in fact, Olsen did not say that you will never find them. An IDer taking an evolutionist's words out of context, what a huge surprise!  I looked at my own biology textbooks and I did find the drawings in one of the four that I own.  So the textbooks are not perfect, but I don't think this is the first time t have provided inaccurate information. 

Did Olsen exaggerate the budget of the Discovery Institute? Yes, but not by much.  Certainly not as big of a deal as the Discovery Institute believes.  Olsen said "around 5 million" and the Discovery Institute says $4.2 million.  I personally believe that 4.2 is around 5 million.  If someone asked you about how much something that costs $4.20, would you feel that you were lying if you said 5 bucks?  The Discovery Institute goes on to say that they really only spend one million on intelligent design activities, but Olsen only referred to their total budget.  They even produced a nice little graph, which I have altered below to be more accurate to the movie.  For my own peace of mind, I looked up what the Discovery Institute's reported income for 2006 and it was 4,165,847, or about 5 million.

Other criticisms from the Discovery Institute are that Olsen misrepresented the "Wedge document", he exaggerated the Discovery Institute's involvement in the Dover trial, and why he was not ever granted an interview with a Discovery Institute fellow.  My personal opinion is that if they had such a problem with the content of the movie, they would have done something like the Expelled Exposed website.

The cemetary her grave is in is beautiful. It's up on a high hill that looks over the whole town, and its sorrounded by a nice forest on three sides. Looking down you can see a country road with lots of homes stretched out, and the big blue sky seems to stretch out endlessly in front of you. When I first arrived there, I reflected on the cemetary's beauty. Some cemetaries are inherently threatening, you walk in and just feel like the place is haunted (and here I'm not making a comment on whether or not ghosts actually exist.) This one is different. It's a calm memorial place, where you can see the tragedy of every lost person, where you can tell that they are still loved and deeply missed. Perhaps my own loss forms this conception for me. In any case, I found the cemetary aesthetically pleasing.

I reached Ally's grave and found she had no headstone. On top of the six feet of earth that covered her coffin were massive boquets of yellow flowers (yellow was her favorite color.) A humble little stand behind the flowers stated her name. I was dissapointed that there was no headstone. Perhaps her family cannot afford one? I do not know. In any case, there I was, staring down at her grave. Six feet below me, in a big metal box, lay the body of my friend Ally. Ally, the girl I drove to a friend's party not three weeks ago. Ally, the girl who was in my van on the Kentucky Missions Trip last year. Ally, the girl who I got into an embarassing fight with at my girlfriend's house and had to revise my understanding of forgiveness. Ally, so full of life an energy, gone forever, lying six feet below me in that big metal box.

I felt no more sorrow. The sorrow had been purged from me by long hours spent crying with my friends. I did not worry about the theological implications. I know there's a God. I know Ally's with Him now (she was a very devoted born-again Christian.) I know she isn't suffering anymore. I know I'm going to be ok. Standing there, over the body of a friend I had loved and cherished, I was overcome by a feeling of absurdity. This girl had been vivacious, excited, and alive. Now she is dead and cold. Of course I believe in God. Of course I know that one day I'll see her again. But the simple absurdity of this entire situation is overwhelming. It's like she left. She just departed on another fantastic journey, and I have no contact with her, no way to know her except in my memories. She's just gone. I can't even explain how it makes me feel. It isn't painful really. It doesn't hurt me, it doesn't make me mad or angry at God or myself or anybody else. The best way I can describe it is that it's just plain absurd. It just doesn't make any sense, and I know that if I stood in front of that grave, staring down at that patch of earth for a thousand years, it still would make no more sense to me than it does now.

The realization was humbling. I walked away from the grave, reminded that there are certainly things I cannot and will not ever understand, and that there are times when I must just trust, whether I'm trusting God, nature, or myself. However it was a strange realization to come to, to see the limits of my own thoughts. As I walked by other graves, I reflected on how for every person here were many more that had to come to the same realization I did, that had to miss those they loved the way I miss Ally. Now I'm just left to wonder if others reach the same conclusion I do. Do others see the idea of death as simply absurd? Do they try to make sense of it, or do they regard their attempts to be futile as I do? Do they immediately jump to not thinking about it, without even recognizing the whole situations' absurdity? I guess I'll never know. None of my friends wish to discuss it, and no one ever does. I suppose we all reach our own conclusions about this concept. However, seeing a good friend's grave is to me an important reminder of how absurd our very existence in this natural world is, and how we must always be humbled and awed by the natural processes we constantly observe. As for the rest, I guess I just don't know what else to say.

Rest in Peace Ally, rest in Peace.
+

Actually what I really wanted to address today is whether or not Lewis is worse than Inspector Morse. I would have to say that they're about equal. On a character basis Morse himself was more amusing than Lewis but strictly on a show basis Lewis has various advantages going for it. Mostly that it is more recent making it easier to relate to and was planned originally for television. There were quite a few episodes of Morse that were not adapted from a novel but that is not quite the same thing now is it? Although the feeling of Lewis is not as great as that of Morse that isn't something one can quantify. Perhaps if I say that Morse strikes me as a traditional english police procedural whereas Lewis strikes me as "just another procedural" that might as well be from or in any country. So saying, Morse always rubbed me the wrong way. Lewis is a bit more of an everyman I think. Unfortunately his subordinate Hathaway is somewhat in the vein of Morse. Maybe.

To be completely honest it has been years since I have watched any Inspector Morse episodes because I was never much of a fan. And nobody cares about this anyway.

After he had stolen away our mosquito-repellent incense, we no longer had any means left to protect ourselves from the attacks of the sea turtle. We had attempted to send away for more incense from a mail-order company, but, just as we thought, the telephone lines had been cut, and our mail had stopped coming to us a few weeks ago. When you think about it, there’s no way that wily turtle would have allowed such a thing - up until now, we had been able to stave him off solely on account of the incense. Now, however, he must be contentedly napping in preparation for tonight at the bottom of the blue-green sea.

“This is it for us, isn’t it,” she said. “When night comes, we’ll both be eaten.”

“We can’t lose hope,” I said. “We just need to come up with a plan.”

“But the sea turtle stole every last stick of the incense.”

“We’ve got to try to think about this logically. If the turtle hates mosquito-repellent incense that much, then there must be something else he hates just as much.”

“Such as?”

“Julio Iglesias,” I said.

“Why Julio Iglesias?” she asked.

“I don’t know, it just suddenly popped into my head. Like a hunch or something.”

Following my intuition, I set the turntables of the stereo system to Julio Iglesias’s “Begin the Beguine” and waited for nightfall. When darkness fell, the sea turtle would attack, and the final showdown would begin. Will we be eaten, or will the turtle go hungry?

When I heard wet, squishy footfalls close to the door a little after midnight, I lost no time in dropping the needle onto the record. As Julio Iglesias started to croon “Begin the Beguine” in his sugar-water voice, the footsteps came to a dead halt, and we heard the turtle moaning painfully. We had triumphed.

That night, Julio Iglesias sang “Begin the Beguine” one hundred and twenty-six times. I myself rather dislike Julio Iglesias, but fortunately not as much as the sea turtle.

A musical rhythm
Set in time.   ...Pentameter
Or Anti-matter; rather.

It's in your head
You dance, You dance
Round and Round
In bed.

It takes 2ow or One
It takes 4our or more
and lets not forget 3ree.

Don't be absurd though.
Think it through now.
Is it false or Is it true?
Silly, you don't even know:

What is it? it is
Absurd? Absurd.

Hey intelligent ape!

flinging all your poo

this mischief that you create

just like monkeys do.

*

Hey imaginative ape!

stuck inside your zoo

plotting for an escape

from the cage built by you.

*

The world continues to spin

species come and they go

will Primate do himself in?

will your big brain ever know?

*

Hey, ridiculous Ape

look at what you have become

you are so obsessed with your fate.

you’ve forgotten where you came from!

*

The film is also exquisitely structured. Watch, for example, the role that the female foot plays throughout the film, both as erotic attractant and as kung fu lethal weapon. The film begins and ends with the female foot. 

The second half of "Death Proof" is Thelma and Louise for hypomanics. I found the film, for all its absurdity and horror, actually life affirming, and I've watched it now half a dozen times. It's that good.

If you want to partially unclutter your desktop with similar sorts of icons grouped and hidden, consider putting them in a folder.  Personally, every once in a while I just sort of take them out and stamp on them.  The problem with that is it's purely mental, I think.  Kinda scary when you can't put them back right, though.

--Glenn

What, maybe you were expecting Bill Clinton? That is so yesterday.

On his Tuesday radio program, Dobson took time out from his no doubt very busy schedule as a professional Child Psychologist, complete with Ph.D, to address the masses with a blistering attack on Barack Obama. The target of his ire? Obama's Christianity. Unbelievable. Some gems from this diatribe:

Barack Obama "deliberately distorts the Bible..."

Obama is "...dragging biblical understanding through the gutter..."

... in order to "wilfully confuse people..."

and who has a "fruitcake interpretation of the Constitution."

Ladies and Gentlemen, James Dobson, Biblical Scholar, Theologian, Lawyer, and Pontiff of American Evangelicalism!

In all seriousness, I suppose I should be grateful for the fact that I do not know by what authority Dobson believes he can go off like this. Certainly not on his authority as a child psychologist. He rightly claims he has no religious or theological credentials other than whe he himself believes. But the fact is that millions of Christians have listened to him promote his version of Christianity now for over 30 years. Among evangelicals, perhaps only Billy Graham has spent more time and exercised more evangelical influence in Washington than Dobson.

But Dobson is not a politician. Child psychologists, even if they exercise influence over a lot of people (primarily Boomers, from what I can tell... the largest voting bloc), don't belong in partisan politics the way Dobson and so many other evangelicals with a little influence, a healthy dash of media savvy, and a lot of cash have done. Personally I don't care what Dobson thinks politically. One of the great things about the US is exactly the freedom to disagree over politics, policy, religion, and so on, without fear of imperial repercussions. But I find it absolutely reprehensible that Dobson and others of his ilk attack Obama's faith for what can only be interpreted as political dream of evangelical theocracy.

Dobson's diatribe, in fact, says very little about Obama's current campaign. Instead, Dobson and his henchman Tom Minnery go after Obama's 2006 Call to Renewal Speech, which deserves to be in the canon of great American speeches. If Obama is distorting the Bible, as Dobson alleges (being the biblical expert and all that he seems to be), Dobson has distorted Obama's Call to Renewal speech in such a way that strains credibility. (Maybe that will prove to be a good thing.)

And so it is with great disgust that I present the 2008 Just Shut Up! Award to Dr. James Dobson.

A couple of tantalizing tidbits from the news this week, certainly not the most meaningful but definitely interesting.

Quoth Wired:

The recording industry and U.S. radio companies have squared off for decades about whether AM and FM radio broadcasters should pay royalties to singers, musicians and their labels. Broadcasting music without payment is akin to piracy, the industry says.

What?? And here I thought this was satire...Wired continues:

But now the debate is getting meaner; there's more at stake as the recording industry seeks new income avenues in the wake of wanton peer-to-peer piracy and declining CD sales in part due to the iPod and satellite radio. A U.S. House subcommittee could vote as early as Thursday on a royalty measure.

Taking it to the House of Representatives? Yawn. C'mon, guys. Can't you do something more, y'know, creative? Well apparently, yes you can!

On Monday, the recording industry sent the National Association of Broadcasters -- the trade group representing the $16 billion a year AM-FM broadcasting business -- a can of herring to underscore that it believes its arguments against paying royalties are a red herring. The NAB says its members should not pay royalties because AM-FM radio "promotes" the music industry. [Emphases mine]

Red Herring - get it? Well if you don't know what words and colloquialisms mean, their next gift should clarify things for you:

The herring present followed another gift -- a dictionary, a bid by the recording industry to explain what it saw as the difference between fees and taxes. The NAB describes the latest royalty proposal as a tax.

Those cads! A can of herring, and a dictionary? Could they possibly top those?

And two weeks ago, the recording industry, under the umbrella group musicFIRST, sent the NAB four digital downloads: "Take the Money and Run" by the Steve Miller Band; "Pay me My Money Down" by Bruce Springsteen; "Back In the U.S.S.R" by Paul McCartney and "A Change Would Do You Good" by Sheryl Crow.

As Dave Barry would say, I'm not making this up. Kudos to you, recording industry. While I find your argument (as I have most of your technology-restricting arguments since around 1998) draconian and stultifying, at least you're saying it with some real flair and panache. You can read the full article here.

Moving right along, when I read the headline (again from the fine folks at Wired) British Police in High-Speed Chase ... With UFO, my interest was piqued. When I read the opening line,

In a close encounter with the future of transportation, a police helicopter almost hit what its crew insists was an alien spacecraft. And then they chased it. Seriously.

I wanted to say "Heck yeah!" and "Finally!" Something you probably don't know about me: As a teenager I was a huge UFO and conspiracy theory buff. I knew a lot, then, about the state of alien abductions and UFO sightings 'round the world. As one friend in my house church community here likes to say, "You used to be cool, Mike, and into UFOs and stuff. Now you're just into theology."

Oh, how we've fallen.

So this article! The original, from the Telegraph, sez:

A police helicopter crew gave chase to a UFO after it almost collided with their aircraft near a military base. The pilot was forced to bank sharply to avoid being hit by the mystery aircraft as the helicopter was returning to the Ministry of Defence base of St Athan, near Cardiff.

The helicopter crew are said to have crossed the Bristol channel in pursuit of the UFO, but lost sight of it and had to turn back due to a fuel shortage.

I don't often utter phrases like this these days, but those police officers are my heroes. Having the cajones to give chase to a flippin' UFO is amazing. I salute you, Brittian's finest! Full story here and here.

That gets to be the way of it with bloated bureaucracies, apathy sets in eventually. The groups where you'll find average people caring the most about what's going on are the most chaotic and least organized. The best example would probably be a group of friends. If someone actually is your friend you are interested in their life and care about their problems, and likewise they will feel the same way if they view you as a friend. And that's about the way the relationship goes. You aren't forced to fill out paper work, provide 3 forms of ID, and subjected to sanctions in the case of a factual error. On the other hand what people care the least about would have to be the political systems in peaceful democratic countries. Especially ones where everyone (over a certain age, which is bureaucracy right there, why shouldn't a 5 year old get a say in who will be president? at least the votes of legal minors should be provisional) gets to vote. Most people don't bother to vote, and even among those who do vote you will be hard pressed to find people who actually know what's going on or would list politics as the major concern of their life. Maybe people have faith in these systems and that's part of it, I don't know, but it really is a bad joke.

I guess today's moral is to not cave in to bureaucracies even though you're forced to deal with them, and that you should vote and follow political issues.

School locked down after 'ninja' sighted in woods

The Associated Press
BARNEGAT, N.J. - It's the case of the nonexistent ninja. Public schools in Barnegat were locked down briefly after someone reported seeing a ninja running through the woods behind an elementary school.

Turns out the ninja was actually a camp counselor dressed in black karate garb and carrying a plastic sword.

Police tell the Asbury Park Press the man was late to a costume-themed day at a nearby middle school.

The lockdown began shortly after 9 a.m. Wednesday and lasted until 9:30.

1. Don't panic. It's easy to get caught up in the moment and wig out--after all, there's a severed head in your dog's mouth. This is not the time to panic, however. Panicking should be reserved for truly panic-worthy occasions, such as a printer running out of paper or a hangnail. Right now, you need to be level-headed and take the appropriate action.

2. Remove the head from your dog's mouth. This is perhaps the most important and most difficult task in this process. Removing the head can prove tricky, especially if your dog wants to hang onto it like it does with tennis balls and pet toys. You have to remember that removing it is key to your success in this situation, especially once the sound of tearing flesh hits your ears as your beloved dog starts his tug-of-war with you.

3. Do not throw the head. Just as dogs are conditioned through training, you've been conditioned to remove things from your dog's mouth and throw them again for the dog to fetch. Don't do this.

4. Be firm with your dog, but do not lash out. It's important to let your pet know that bringing severed heads home is not appropriate behavior, but do not be too harsh lest your dog stop bringing severed limbs home altogether. Remember how you felt the first time your dog brought home one of the neighbor kid's severed arms, how proud you were. Your dog needs boundaries, and you need to reaffirm that good behavior and discourage the bad.

5. Dispose of the head and forget this ever happened. That head could have come from anywhere. Don't jump to conclusions--your dog could have found it in a dumpster, or at the beach. Just because your dog brought a severed head home doesn't mean your pet is a mindless bloodthirsty beast. He's just inquisitive. He's a good dog, a nice inquisitive dog with blood-soaked fangs.

I guess now's as good a time as any to admit I haven't owned a dog. Still, I hope this advice is useful the next time your dog brings home a severed head.

And he will. «»

A friend of mine once told me that I'm overly think about almost every "things", even the smallest detail. Its too much. Its far beyond my capacities. Dia ada benernya juga seh, tapi bukan berarti aku gak pernah nyoba. I tried, and I failed. Not actually try it but somehow...

Okay I admit it, I never really tried to just let it flow. No matter, I can't just ignore it, I'm not that kind of guy. Maybe, its just my personalities. What a troublesome. *sigh*

Maybe its true that time can not heal, time will only help us to put everything to where it belong, whether its past, present, or future.

Kalo dipikir lagi seh, "waktu" itu sebenernya jahat. Dia tidak akan menunggu kita untuk sembuh. Dia akan tetap berjalan, tidak akan melambat, ataupun mempercepat langkahnya. Blah, and now I blame the "time" for my failure and problem, even thought it was me that lack of time management. It can't be helped, human always look for something to be blamed for its failure. No, maybe its just me. Me and my stupidity.

Apa jadinya ya, kalo manusia punya tombol reset, atau tombol kecil buat dump memory dan menyimpannya di satu logfile terpisah. Jauh dari otak, mungkin dipunggung, dipinggul, difantad, ato mungkin diujung jari kaki. Terkompresi dan terenkripsi dengan sempurna sehingga butuh key tertentu buat mengingatnya kembali. Maybe I would be able to dump all those painful memories from behind.

But then, I'm not a human anymore. Hidup gak bakal ada artinya. Gak bakal ada yang namanya orang belajar dari kesalahan. Seperti kata pepatah, no pain no gain. No women no cry, no money .. oh NO! Damn, I'm getting out of control again. T.T

Yeah, without those painful memories, I won't be here where I am now. I won't be able to understand the feeling of losing someone I love. And maybe, I won't be able to love her like the way I am now. Its not that I didn't love her, I loved her, but now, I love her even more. And ... she forgot about me even more... tragic isn't it, at least on my point of view ^^;

Hmh.. I already got the answer in mind. But somehow, my inner self won't accept it. Some part of me keep refusing the truth.

Oyasumi.

RIP sir.

personally, i think they should release one as soon as possible; a lot of bands just don't make it to a fifth release and/or release at least one album full of duds somewhere after their "brilliant sophomore effort".  

and we all know you want the greatest hits album before the 13 track craptastrophe.     

it is with this (our) imminent failure in mind that I have compiled this post: i want our inspired garbage to be highlighted before we start writing uninspired garbage.....

climbing is overrated

i am cursed

lying is rad

soul versus numbers

problem name-o-rama

garage problems
  

-tissue

Using my title as an example, a rational number is basically a fraction like 1/2. And of course fractions are basically division problems. Sticking with 1/2, if you divide one pie by 2 you get half a pie. That is a rational line of thought and thus 1/2 is a rational number. On the other hand if you think about it, each half of a pie is a distinct thing unto itself, you could almost think of each piece of a pie as a pie or just as a piece rather than say 1/8 of a pie (that's a stingy sized piece for most pies I say). And if I understand correctly that's the way that other animals would look at it. They don't have the ability to rationalize that one piece of pie sitting there is the same thing as the piece of pie sitting over here, all they know is that it's food and they probably want to eat it. Actually they probably know other things about it that we don't like subtler scents that escape the human nostrils.

OK so this has turned into something that doesn't make any sense. But my point is that humans have come up with all kinds of things that aren't necessarily real and that has allowed them to come up with things that are. Other animals appear to lack this ability to imagine, to rationalize, to make expansive plans. If they had it, then they would be able to fully communicate with us, they would be able to write, they would be able to do math.

I suppose there are a lot of people who would just as soon not do math, and there is a case to be made for the way of nature being ideal compared to the perversions of humanity. You don't get necrophiliac serial-killer lions after all. But we humans are what we are and there possibly has never been anything similar that came before us, and when we die out there might not be anything else like us that will follow.

Of course in writing this I'm saying nothing of god but that's because god says nothing about it to me. Perhaps the christians and jews are right and moses was given the 10 commandments by god whenever that was and to god that was supposed to be be good enough for all of us plus or minus the gospels and so on (I don't really know how all that stuff works and couldn't care less). Same with allah and muhammad, to an omnipotent being perhaps 2-4,000 years is the blink of an eye and to one who is omnipresent all thoughts and actions are carefully timed and orchestrated. Or *gasp perhaps god fed people a bunch of bs or the people who heard god didn't understand and made things up. Not to mention other people who just lied to serve their own agendas and perversions. I am reminded of a thought I once had that perhaps humans are made in god's own image in the sense that god is an aberration and so are humans. We're god's mistake and god is the universe's or something like that. It would explain a lot.

Well whatever kids. I guess my point is to appreciate things like math and books because they're what we have that maybe nothing else does. I met someone the other day who didn't think they'd ever read an entire book. People like that are out there, it's just not important to them, they don't make anything of it, they don't have the ability to grasp it. I honestly don't know whether that's a shame or not, whether this person had missed out on anything or not. After all I've read thousands of books but perhaps I missed out on thousands of hours of other activities as a result. Certainly it's hard to imagine that I gained any unique knowledge by reading the likes of Mo Hayder's "Birdman" that either benefits or affords me a special advantage over anyone else. If anything I think it just sparked all kinds of depressive thoughts. So whatever. I guess I don't have a point. It gets hard after you reach a certain... let's call it a "state" to separate things out and be concise. Possibly everything is related after all. Or is that probably? Whichever one works for you.

I am taking a math class at what you could call a "jr. college" in american english. Due to various issues I have I was eligible to receive accommodations which included having extra time to take tests. For the most part the accommodations I receive are of dubious usefulness but considering that the result of my issues is more or less writing very slowly and that test results account for something like 90% of the grade this is pretty nice. However as a result of this rather than taking the test in class I have to take my tests in the school's "testing center" which is used for a variety of things and has absurd security measures.

First of all you tell the administrator your class, teacher, and name which is proven redundant when you are forced to let them examine your ID and enter your student number on a keypad that has no display. Why you have to do both of those things also seems strange, if you have to give them your ID to prove your identity that should be enough. Let me also say that you are not forced to prove your identity at any other time such as class enrollment, advising, payment, or classes so there's nothing to stop you from sending a proxy even if you have to take your own tests. Why you would do that I have no idea but I'm sure that others have at least attempted it.

So while the clowns were juggling these things I was forced to stand around for about 5 minutes while they decided whether or not I was allowed to use my own pencil before taking the test. Which I did at a glass topped "desk" that has a computer monitor underneath it where your legs should go at an angle which makes it impossible to be seen by anyone other than the person sitting at the desk, and which also makes it impossible for the person sitting there to get comfortable as they can't get close enough to the desk to do use it as a normal desk. In spite of that I took the test, and I was very confident because I checked my answers and they were right (the good thing about math is being able to do that), and then I had to hand it in. Including my spare work paper, even the page I didn't mark at all which they also dispose of because heaven forbid you copy the test onto that somehow (dipping your pencil into diluted lemon water that you have in a bottle?) so that the next person can make use of it. Anyway that was fine but then here was the problem, after handing in the test they made me put my student number in again on the keypad. They did not say a single thing to me, took my test, and wished me good day.

I have now found out that I hit the 3 key along with the 2 key without realizing it because I have issues with my hands, thus giving a totally wrong number which somehow invalidates the whole thing. This would not have happened if they had let me confirm my number or if the number was displayed to me somehow before confirming it but they do not do that and you are forced to trust that your hands were sure.

I plan to appeal this gross injustice and will probably be successful in either validating the test I took or being allowed to take a makeup of some sort. If not then I will file suit against them, probably win, and drain the public coffers exponentially not only by my settlement but because such a settlement would force firings, hirings and trainings, and reviews of procedure. For those not familiar with such things a variety of questionable and tragically overpaid independent special consultants will be called in to give opinions, which will be totally ignored by the bureaucrats that couldn't tell you something as simple as the difference between the formulas for area and volume of a parallelogram (l*w=a squared; l*w*h=v cubed) who get to make the final decision on things. And some even worse new system will be implemented (finger print scanning maybe) instead of simply finding a way to improve the present system that will cost obscene amounts of money to implement. And of course the public will pick up the bill.

Well let us just hope it does not come to that. I would really prefer to just be able to finish my math class with the grade I deserve rather than get a worthless pile of money. But that's just me eh?

It is the space between the end of a sentence and an exclamation point !

The single space used before an exclamation point is so clear in its purpose, yet it is an implied meaning, evolved from broadsides, as far as I know. Without a space, the exclamation is sincere and demands attention! But when you put a space before the punctuation, it becomes a somewhat ironic announcement ! The sincerity is waived in favor of faux-enthusiasm. Por ejemplo,

See the amazing death-defying acrobats!

See the amazing death-defying acrobats !

Or perhaps another will help:

I can't believe this !

I can't believe this!

Hopefully I'm not the only one who sees this implied informal usage of language and punctuation. Long live the exclamatory empty space ! «»

i was wrong. nouns and verbs really aren't that tricky. and the proof - as they say - is in the queries:

Q: "If this is a climbing blog...uh.... why isn't there any pictures of climbing or any climbing" - Anonymous

A: dude. we don't climb. we just TALK about climbing. this is the internet, not boulder. if you want photos and trip stories then hit up one of the colorado sites. they climb AND talk about it. plus, when you have more than two people at a session you get what i like to call: photos.

Q: "I have a great idea for a post: "It Came From the Garage: Cancelled" - Adam P.

A: huh. great plan. poor execution. i give it a c-. i woulda given an a+ for: -- this blog sucks. it's more like "It Came From the Garbage"-- see what i did there?

i added a b.

Q: "Why don't you clip bolts? Who boulders in Kentucky? Wanker. " - Anonymous

A: this is a good one. during my most recent trip out west, i was often asked the very same question. desert people stuck with painful granite crimps seemed appalled that i eschewed kentucky's amazing corbin sandstone cliffs for its often sandy rockfall boulders. a few years ago i would have offered them an elaborate explanation about the social connectivity of bouldering, the minutia involved in problem solving, and my ability to head out into the kentucky jungle in the solo. this year, however, i'm training power endurance so as to rid myself of 'wankerdom' once and for all.

by fall, i too plan to make fun of boulderers. silly pebble wrastlers the lot of them.

that's it. if you have any (more) questions feel free to drop us a line.

-tissue

This seems like a waste of an entry but my life recently has been math to the exclusion of everything but Mo Hayder novels (after finishing "the devil of nanking" I started in on "birdman") while on break or in transit. There was a small misadventure with a service technician who came out to fix my "connection" but I'll leave that one to your imagination. I was thinking to myself for a moment that the last sentence wasn't a bad premise for an existential story but then I realized that is because it has already been done. In everything from treasured script to obscure pornography, whether it is a service technician or the pizza delivery boy. Alas just never mind it.