Fashionably late comes my post about things past, and those yet to come, but what did you expect? My last update was in June!

It’s not for lack of trying though. I’ve sat down in front of my computer several times and I honestly meant to write something — not because I feel like I have to, but because I like to. Unfortunately, I didn’t feel like I had anything worthy to write about. Then a few months went by and I thought about writing a few lines and realized that now there was way too much to write. This happens to me quite often with old friends in far-away places.

Hey buddy how have you been? Good? Me too. Well, let me just recap the last ten and a half years …

It just doesn’t work, and I’ll tell you why. I’m an information junkie and one thing that’s always been hard for me to do is to condense information down to the necessary. Well, what most people would consider necessary. I’m sometimes reminded of a story (true story, by the way) about Stanley Kubrick, who gave his daughter a fifteen-page set of instructions on caring for his cats. While I’ve never written a fifteen-page manual for anything, I have no doubt my girlfriend has been annoyed by my commentary and suggestions on how to chop the onions when we’re making dinner, for example.

My quirks aside, there’s also the constant struggle of objectivity and subjectivity. At a recent communications training seminar, three people were asked to participate in an exercise. The first guy was told a story, then the second guy came in and the first guy had to tell him the story. He gave him his version which had changed somewhat. Then the third guy came in and … I’m sure you know where this goes. Just three guys later and a story has half of the original facts with a fair amount of new, made-up and/or assumed information. I suppose I just don’t like the idea of being part of the misinformation cycle. On a side note: I was able to re-tell the story almost verbatim, after hearing it from the course leader once. I actually still could.

Still, as fun as it is to recall year old conversations line by line, I sometimes end up with information-paralysis. Take this blog for example. One week there’s nothing important to write about. A few weeks go by and now there’s too much to write about. Next thing you know, it’s six months later and no updates.

Maybe I should work on that this year starting now.

To briefly recap last year:

Laura and I spent much of the 2008 spring and summer looking for a house. That is, of course, until the economy shot itself in the face while jumping from a high-rise window holding a stick of dynamite in each hand

With house prices plummeting worse than AIG stock, Laura and I moved into an apartment on the U-City Loop and it’s been great. Driving to work costs me a fraction of what it did before, and I look forward to riding my bike to work once it warms up

I did another MS bike ride and I want to give a special thanks to everyone who supported me. This would have not been possible without you. I’m proud of two accomplishments in particular:
1. over $3,500 raised for the National MS Society — which landed me in the 74th top fundraiser spot
2.  completed the first day’s century with a personal best average of 19.5 miles per hour.  If you’re not a biker, that’s pretty fast. In fact, it  far exceeded what I thought I was capable of.

I was promoted to captain of my company’s MS biking team

I redpointed (climbing term for climbing a route without falls or resting on the rope/gear) the second pitch of Fancy Lads at Draper’s Bluff. Depending on who you ask this route is rated 5.11d – 5.12b. Either way, that’s pretty hard and I was thrilled when I clipped the anchors.

I work for the Italians now (in a somewhat roundabout way)

Laura and I have not bought a single loaf of bread, save for one during our move in October. We make about two or three loafs per week, and frankly, I couldn’t imagine eating the store-bought stuff anymore.

This year’s Halloween party was crazy and bigger than before (see for yourself here)

Things I’m looking forward to in the new year:

Stay on top of this blog and write at least one post every month.

Redpoint some of my 5.12 projects. It’s time to step up the game and I really hope the spring plays along with good dry weather — I can’t take another 2008-like spring

Biking to work — now that I live much closer to work I’m looking forward to riding my bike there as much as possible.

I’ll leave it at that before the list gets too long. It’s kind of late to still be talking about the new year, but I hope you all have a great 2009!

Chances are you have heard Weezer’s new song Pork and Beans on the radio or maybe you even got their CD. When I first heard the song i thought it was catchy and a little like Weezer’s old days. I was totally unprepared for the awesomeness of the actual video. You can watch it here:

If you’re not a geek like me and don’t pay any attention to the viral videos that sometimes take the internet by storm, this video may disappoint you, though it’s still fun to watch.

Right off the bat we have a reference to funtwo, who became a sensation by playing Canon in D extremely fast on an electric guitar, back-lit by a large window behind him. Next you get a cut of Gary Brolsama, the Numa Numa kid, and then there is the dramatic gopher, followed by afroninja. Other stars and references include the diet coke experiment guys, the GI Joe PSAs with a reference to the guy who catches glasses with his face, Matt McAllister who put on 155 t-shirts, Chris Crocker, the “leave Brittney alone” guy, CATS from the badly translated game Zero Wing which gave us the “all your base are belong to us” phenomenon. The list continues with Caitlin Upton, the Miss Teen USA chick who so tragically fumbled a simple question on geography on live TV, the whiteboys doing the Soulja Boy dance, Judson Liapply from the “Evolution of Dance” video, Tay Zonday from Chocolate Rain, the Daft Hands dude, the chicks from daft bodies, Kicesie from her youtube “sex ed” videos and several references to the infamous Star Wards kid as well as Ryan vs dorkman from their Star Wars fan clip, the dancing banana aka Peanut Butter Jelly Time, and the “will it blend” blender. The list goes on and on and on. I thought it was pretty appropriate too, given that the song’s message is to be happy about who you are.

Aside from being pure awesomeness, this video is testament to what a huge nerd i am.

Click the image for a larger resolution file.

Took this picture after a day of climbing in southern Illinois. We were just finishing up as a light rain fell and then we saw this. Can’t quite remember the last time I saw a full rainbow stretching across the sky. There’s even a hint of a second rainbow just to the right of it.

Enjoy.

I had heard about this book (and obviously the movie) from a few friends and wanted to see it for a while now. Last Sunday night, after returning from a three-day camping trip — during which the first night’s dinner was canceled due to uncooperative weather — it seemed sort of fitting to watch this before bed.

First I’ll give you my thoughts on the movie. It’s a damn good movie. Just trust me on that. I was in my bed, dead-tired after three days of rock climbing & camping, and I didn’t even consider falling asleep for a single second while watching it. The cinematography, the music and Emile Hirsch (The Girl Next Door, Alpha Dog) as Christopher McCandless, aka Alexander Supertramp, were amazing. The movie has a good flow, cutting between his “current” situation in Alaska and his various experiences prior to venturing into the Alaskan wilderness, starting out quite playful, almost innocent, and turning more serious towards the end. While making his way north, he encounters, and in some cases deeply affects the lives of many characters that come across as genuine. Too many times there’s an array of distractions rather that supporting charters.

As for my commentary about the actual story, be warned that the following paragraph(s) will most likely contain spoilers.

If you know me, you know that I am no fan of marriage. I don’t despise it — though it may appear so at times — but I feel the need for a proactive indifference, similar to coping with a bully on the playground … except that marriage won’t go away, no matter how long you ignore it. I feel this way mostly because of how much the concept is abused on a daily basis. This is more or less where the movie starts for me philosophically. The happy McCandless family is a complete sham. You have two people who don’t love each other — possibly don’t even know what love really is — that got a piece of paper that proclaimed them married. Soon after, they started making babies and played out all the little plays, that in their mind looked like things a family would do. It was all a farce. It was all empty. No one made any attempt to understand and actually care about each other. Christopher was undoubtedly a very driven, intelligent guy who lived his life by a code, and the realization of what emptiness he was borne from pushed him on this quest to find himself and define who and what he really is. His great enemies were all the things his parents were so preoccupied with. A great big house, a nice new car. This, I think, is why: Had the foundation upon which any young person builds their life — one’s family — had it not been as materialistic as it was described to be, he most likely would have not grown up with such contempt for everything material that society places a value on. Had his family life been more about relationships, he would have accepted money as a tool, not a false object of desire.

While his quest to find himself, was on occasion a bit dangerous, the end was not so much tragic as it was just plain stupid. What he did, and the way he chose to do it was an atrocity on his own life and everyone who did love him him. If he’d just had a real map he could have easily walked out his situation, as a hand-operated tram crossed the river only a quarter mile from where he was. And that’s only the beginning of the travesty he committed. He was completely unprepared, in every way imaginable, to cope with the situation he was about to put himself into. There’s courage, and then there is just plain ignorant stupidity, and it’s particularly upsetting when it’s committed by someone who is neither ignorant nor stupid. Sure in the beginning he did alright – but a drunk driver is a pretty safe driver until he has to react quickly to some unforeseen event. What’s ironic, in a very sad way, is his transformation into what he quite possibly despised the most: his father. Throughout the movie he met people and affected all of their lives in some positive way; he was loved, admired and cared for. Yet he chose to throw it all away, ignore those who opened their hearts to him, and do something incredibly selfish, which perceptibly hurt all those who cared about him. His lack of concern for the relationships he formed resembled his father more than any of the men he idolized.

I think it is often the case, that if we blindly try to escape something, without understanding the root of it and its effect on us, we are likely to end up where we started.

In the spirit of the movie, I leave you with this quote:

“What we need for our happiness is often close at hand,
if we knew but how to seek for it.”

— Nathaniel Hawthorne

A few weeks ago I finished what may be the most amazing and thought-inspiring book I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading. Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand; the Bible of Selfishness as they call it. The book is considered Rand’s magnum opus, and its 1,200 pages, particularly Galt’s speech (which is 60 pages long) lay the foundation for her philosophy of Objectivism (yes, it’s that kind of reading).

The book is set in the 50s and the mood in America is changing. A prosperous country, with a thriving industry is slowly turning to the ideas of Communism, embracing brotherlove and the Common Good. Meanwhile high-profile members of society — inventors, company owners, musicians — are disappearing without a trace. Quickly it becomes evident that most of these people are prime movers — men and women who make the society move forward. All of them highly motivated, smart and creative were the ones who came up with the solutions to society’s problems. What they got in return was hatred and contempt very similar to what companies like Walmart are experiencing today.

Rand’s book is the capitalist’s Bible and it lays some straight forward rules. To get paid you must produce. Your worth has to come from somewhere. Your “need” is not a valid claim to anything. If you want something you must take by the power of you own mind — you must earn it. I agree with her rules and her philosophy, but mostly just within the scope of her book. I think her idea of a utopia where everyone works hard and money is root of all good is just as absurd — in the real world and with real people — as the idea of prosperity for everyone in a Communist society. But the more likely scenario is that her book was not meant as the Capitalist’s Manifesto, and its intentions are not to incite a riot and overthrow the government (which in her book could be best described as a filthy swamp full of slithering bottom-feeders and purposeless creatures, always concealed and waiting to inject their poison into whatever comes within their reach) but to perhaps to look at one’s own actions, thoughts and accomplishments. To establish a code for how to live one’s own life, and a be productive, think critically, and most importantly, to never depart from that code.

What has intrigued me since I started reading the book, is how much I agree with Rand on her social and political views, from an individual standpoint, of course. At the same time, an acquaintance of mine, who also seems to share her views, would drive me insane and into the most absurdly harsh arguments I’ve ever had with anyone. I could never understand him until I had read the book. I suppose I now understand what drives him as a person, but I still believe that this individual is a bit misguided, because he 1. takes her word as literal gospel, and 2. neglects one fact that separates the novel from reality: the unyielding integrity of character and the moral law — which you will not find in most people. In Rand’s world the world is separated into two kinds of basic people the movers who make it all happen (by producing and/or inventing new things) who conduct themselves by a strict code of ethics in business and pleasure, and the looters (mostly the government and industrialists with close ties to the government) who get what they feel is owed to them by bending the rules in their favor. What my acquaintance constantly seems to forget, is that we don’t live in a society where the industrial tycoon is truly and always a man of his word. Where prosperity is created through ideas and hard work of the individual rather than the exploitation of workers. I have no issue with the prosperity of the selfish — I have no claim to anything they own. When, however, the prosperity of the selfish becomes the a tyranny of such men, that is when we all begin to have a problem. We’re most certainly not a communist society, but the aristocracy of money has largely been replaced by the aristocracy of pull, as she puts it — just look at our current administration and how its conducted itself and its relationships to some of the industry giants.

One of the main characters, Francisco d’Anconia delivers a mini-speech (mini as in only 5 pages long) to some guests at a party, who are revolted by his ideas and his lack of selflessness. How many times have we heard, “Money is the root of all evil?” This should be a nice change of pace:

“So you think that money is the root of all evil?” said Francisco d’Anconia. “Have you ever asked what is the root of money? Money is a tool of exchange, which can’t exist unless there are goods produced and men able to produce them. Money is the material shape of the principle that men who wish to deal with one another must deal by trade and give value for value. Money is not the tool of the moochers, who claim your product by tears, or of the looters, who take it from you by force. Money is made possible only by the men who produce. Is this what you consider evil?

“When you accept money in payment for your effort, you do so only on the conviction that you will exchange it for the product of the effort of others. It is not the moochers or the looters who give value to money. Not an ocean of tears nor all the guns in the world can transform those pieces of paper in your wallet into the bread you will need to survive tomorrow. Those pieces of paper, which should have been gold, are a token of honor — your claim upon the energy of the men who produce. Your wallet is your statement of hope that somewhere in the world around there are men who will not default on that moral principle which is the root of money. Is this what you consider evil?

“Have you ever looked for the root of production? Take a look at an electric generator and dare tell yourself that it was created by the muscular effort of unthinking brutes. Try to grow a seed of wheat without the knowledge left to you by men who had to discover it for the first time. Try to obtain your food by means of nothing but physical motions — and you’ll learn that man’s mind is the root of all the goods produced and of all the wealth that has ever existed on earth.

“But you say that mony is made by the strong at the expense of the weak? What strength do you mean? It is not the strength of the guns or muscles. Wealth is the product of man’s capacity to think. Then is money made by the man who invents a motor at the expense of those who did not invent it? Is money made by the intelligent at the expense of the fools? By the able at the expense of the incompetent? By the ambitious at the expense of the lazy? Money is made — before it can be looted or mooched — made by the effort of every honest man, each to the extent of his ability. An honest man is one who knows that he can’t consume more than he has produced.

The speech goes on for a few more pages, but it outlines some basic problems that are in some ways terrifyingly similar to those that have beset our economy recently, and where the experts predict it will go. One reoccurring theme that identifies the moochers, is their indifference to everything. Why do I have to worry about that? It’s not my responsibility! I see this a lot when it comes to politics and social issues, and no one can argue that the average American citizen is pretty ignorant when it comes to world events. Most people I’ve asked can’t even remember when September 11 happened. Yes, it’s far easier to tune out the reality of it all and tune into a manufactured reality available to you at the push of a button on your comfortable little couch. This happens in Rand’s book. I read today in the WSJ, that serious food-shortages are being predicted or at least soaring prices that will further batter our economy with very little chance for recovery. Price of wheat has tripled over the last three years. This happens in Rand’s book. I read yesterday that Europe is turning back to coal, for its power plants partially due to soaring oil prices. This also happens in Rand’s book. I know, I know, every generation whines how bad they have it. I can’t speak for the generations of the past, so I’ll speak for what I see today. I see people who are content. I am content. A co-worker says, “My God, gas will be four dollars a gallon pretty soon.” On the way home I see them in their gas-guzzling SUV. I say “Good. I hope it soars to 10 dollars a gallon by this summer!” Shock. “You’re crazy,” they say. It is too bad, but until it happens everyone will just complain without doing a damn thing about. When it happens I will ride my bike to work and everywhere else. Until then, I am content and find the situation bearable. Just like everyone else.

Many are inclined to say, and in fact have said so to me, that there are no more “prime movers” in society. That one man can no longer make a giant step for mankind. Where this perversion of indvidualist thought comes from is quite intriguing, especially in a country that is known for its unlimited freedom of opportunity, but is not something I would have thought about prior to reading this book.

I read somewhere that a majoirty of readers said this was the second most influental book in their lives, only to be surpassed by the Bibble. I would have to agree.

Earlier today I stopped by the University of Missouri – Saint Louis, to attend the Motion Titles presentation of the current junior graphic design class. My class, as did many classes before us, had to go through this same rite-of-passage presentation, the first we as students had to do. The audience is usually made up of the faculty, some family, other students and alumni. This all part of the Advanced Problems in Graphic Design II class, where we had to choose a movie, create a new poster and DVD package that incorporated more symbolism and relevance to the movie than the average off-the-shelf Hollywood garbage (generally a big budget/big name movie poster/DVD cover will consist of the actors faces with some irrelevant background imagery). The last part of the project were the motion titles, which is just a fancy word for the intro. Not many people pay attention to the motion title, unaware of how much they say about the movie. I think the best motion title I’ve seen was for the movie U-Turn (starring Sean Penn and Jennifer Lopez). So much is revealed about … well everything. Anyway, this tends to be the most challenging part of the assignment, because all of a sudden you’re dealing with an entirely new element. The first thing I noticed today was how many people used a completely different software to do it then my classmates and myself did only two short years ago. Two things here: 1. time flies and 2. boy is technology eager to leave you behind. That said the little ones did quite all right. I was very impressed with two of the students and quite satisfied with the vast majority.

On a more negative note, I’m more convinced than ever than universities need to make public speaking classes absolutely mandatory. I’m no Demosthenes, but I’ve always striven for some measure of eloquence, and I’m rarely left speechless. While I was in school I found some of my classmates lacking good communication skills, but I guess being away for almost a year now makes it a bit more of a shock. For a second I imagine them talking to my VP, nervously muttering about something, sounding entirely unprepared for all of 10 seconds before being looked with the strangest of looks and told to get to a point … soon. Not a single person talked about their work, instead they all just read things off a piece of paper some with a voice so monotonous it was hard to take. Some would lose their spot on the page and restart at the beginning of the current sentence, the way novice telemarketers do when they are startled by an unexpected question. While no particular part about this irked me, the apparent (not actual) lack of knowledge on the subject of their own work was nothing short of disappointing. I have been there and I know all of them spent enough time with their projects to know them inside and out, yet they all spoke (read, actually) with the shaky uncertainty of an 8th grader reading Nietzsche. Of course it’s not the end of the world but communication is damn important, in my opinion, and if we’re out there education a new generation, shouldn’t we teach them how to speak rather than just talk?

As everyone knows, one of my secret (not anymore, eh) life-goals has been, and still is, to reach the end of the internet. I’ve been working very hard to reach this goal, and as a byproduct of my travels through the ether, I’ve encountered some incredible things. Some I’d like to forget, like 2girls1cup (if you don’t know what that means, be thankful).

Inspired by Stacey’s recent blog entry, and in the spirit of sharing, here are some of my favorite unconventional covers of music I have come across:

• A folk version of Outkast’s Hey Ya by Mat Weddle
  Maybe not super unconventional, but definitely a favorite.
• A Capella Nintendo
  If you were born after 1990, you may not get it
• Daft Hands
  Incredible, just incredible. Gets really good about half way through
• Halo theme
  With rock band instruments
  
• Mario Flute Beatbox
  Seriously, where would this generation be without Nintendo
• Two guys one guitar
  No, nothing like that other website

Enjoy.

I honestly cannot remember the last time I went to a club. One could say that clubs are not my kind of thing. At all, really. This Saturday, however, I got to go to Winter Warpdrive 3 at the Roberts Orpheum Theater in downtown St. Louis, the year’s biggest local rave. A co-worker of mine, who in those circles is known as DJ Ken Evil, provided me a ticket and a VIP pass. I’m not gonna lie to you, the party kicked ass. The place is cool, the DJs were all outstanding, and despite much the scantly clad crowd looking extremely jail-bait-ish (the event was 18 and up), there was energy in that place. I’ve often wondered, how a particular friend of ours could always stay up till dawn at age 39 when I’m often ready to hit the sack minutes after midnight. I’m sure for a lot of people it’s drugs. I saw more than just one person stumbling/dancing around with an eerily vacant expression on their face. Full tank of gas, but no one at the steering wheel. Drugs or not, though, there was a certain energy and even fully sober (minus a few beers) I was up and moving until the lights came on.

At one point during the night a young girl came up to me and my friend, Rae, and said something to her. Then she sort of liquid-danced her way over to me and said (verbatim) “Are you a handsome stranger with a jolly rancher?” I, having no candy in my pockets said “No, sorry.” She made an “awww” face at me and kept on dancing. Aside from really not having any candy on me, I had almost reflexively started saying “no” to almost any question or statement that night. One guy asked me if I wanted something I had never even heard of and kept talking to my shoulder and my back for about 5 minutes, after I declined. After the girl had moved on in her quest for a jolly rancher, I started thinking about what had just happened, and ultimately found myself wishing, that I had asked her to clarify what she meant (Uh, what do you mean by jolly rancher, because I only have starburst). Best I could figure and my friend Rae confirmed it, it was a euphemism (or a rather blatant offer) for oral sex. A quick fact check over at urbandictionary.com only partially confirms my assumption though. Apparently a jolly rancher means either a guy who can stay hard for a very long time, in rap music often used in direct relationship with oral sex, or a cough-suppressant that’s taken in pill form (for the DXM which causes hallucinations much the way an overdose on cough syrup will do). I guess I will never know what she was really after that night.

Jolly Rancher saga update:
I have been informed that it is quite possible that the girl was in fact asking about an actual real sugar-and-artificial-coloring kind of Jolly Rancher. It tuns out that when one is experiencing the effects of the drug Ecstasy, the texture or flavor or whatever of a Jolly Rancher is stimulating in some way.

Picture update due to popular demand:
Judging by my search hits, “Winter Warpdrive 3 pictures” is quite popular at the moment so here you go …

http://www.flickr.com/photos/pshannon/
best pictures of the stage

http://www.flickr.com/photos/unitovone/

http://s128.photobucket.com/albums/p165/allrightname/Winter%20Warpdrive%2016%20FEB%202008/

http://s251.photobucket.com/albums/gg309/bshamalian/

It is almost embarrassing how late this post is but I suppose it is better late than never, right? Now that I’m finally writing this I’m starting to realize why. It was such an awesome party, I want to write something that does it justice.

If you live in the St. Louis area you have undoubtedly heard of this Halloween party. Ok, so it’s possible that I’m exaggerating a little bit, but it does capture the gist of it: kick ass party. Huge. Tons of fun. If you missed it, that is too bad, but the good news is there will be another one next year.

Halloween Hero
Halloween was a special time for almost all of us when we were kids. We got to dress up as our favorite hero and pretend to have superpowers for a night. Somewhere there was a princess waiting to be rescued by her knight. Superman was flying around the neighborhood faster than a bullet, swooping down on every doorstep, to fill his bag with candy. It was the night we got to go out into the world and show off the (current) hero that was hiding inside of us — or if you were unfortunate enough to have been dressed by your parents, you ultimately got to show off your parents’ other self — to family, friends, and neighbors. Not only did we get to go out and show off, we got rewarded for it. Your experiences may have been slightly different, but I would imagine most kids have very fond memories of that day (unless your parents did indeed dress you, and were particularly cruel with costumes).

Sadly, as people grow up many leave the fun of Halloween behind, and some even scoff at the idea of dressing up in a costume. Personally, I think the scoffing is just their insecurity talking and that is a damn shame because Halloween, as an event, only gets better with age. Fortunately for me there are many people out there who still enjoy Halloween thoroughly and I seem to be meeting more and more of them all the time. In the end though, my girlfriend Laura takes the (chocolate) cake as the Halloween Hero, for being so relentless at making every Halloween better than the last.

Victorian Steampunk Masquerade Ball
First, this is not your mom’s “throw a white sheet over your head and pretend to be a ghost for a night” party. Laura, Rachel, Deech (a co-host) and I started working a few months before the party on props and decorations for the party.

As you can see in the picture above we were partying like it was 1899. Quite a few people from the Saint Louis Costume Makers Guild were in attendance and most of the costumes were amazing. Of course, not all of the costumes were Victorian or steampunk — that wasn’t a requirement. Masks, however, were.

All floors were open for the party, from the basement to the upstairs bedroom, and most were decorated in some way shape or form. Some of the decorations were quite elaborate, like the pipe organ and the old school telephone (pictured on the right). Laura built the pipe organ using a really old plastic keyboard and a variety of other materials. Lots of cutting, masking and painting and gluing later the fully functional pipe organ was finished. The telephone — unfortunately not functional — was built using pieces of an old trashed rotary phone, wood, and metal ornaments. Both were a huge hit. On the kitchen counter, we had a rather unusual punch fountain built by Deech for this party. Before we move to the rest of the house, the amazing gargoyles need to be mentioned. Most people couldn’t believe that Laura had built them essentially from scratch using aluminum foil to form the shapes and papier-mâché to cover them with a skin which, when painted, looked remarkably like stone. They also had red glowing eyes through two LEDs that were inserted and wired into their heads during production. Before the party started we placed the four gargoyles on the four posts of the front staircase. I thought the effect was fantastic.

Moving on to the rest of the house. In the upstairs bedroom we placed my little masterpiece, which was a fully functional gramophone unit that was also a huge hit (people were dancing until about 4 a.m. to some records I got from the 99-cent bin at Vintage Vinyl). Laura and I built a large canopy to cover the bed with the intent to make it part of the theme and overall atmosphere. I was hoping the bed would provide more intimate space for people to sit on, similar to the way a couch in the living room would. To discourage anyone from actually getting into the bed, two lovable corpses were placed there and did the trick. There were of course other, less elaborate decorations through the house, such as old faded photographs in vintage frames, articles from 1800’s magazines on the cabinets in the kitchen and Christmas lights to provide a good level of moody lighting — yes I know, not exactly Victorian, but lanterns and candles didn’t appeal to us due to certain safety concerns. Dracula’s coffin from last year’s party — another one of Laura’s remarkable creations — served as a very stylish cooling chest for all types of beverages. The basement became a dimly lit dungeon featuring many of Deech’s props and monsters.

A lot of hard work, but ultimately it all paid off. Best estimate is that around a hundred people showed up to enjoy the festivities. We were all uncertain, though a little curious, to see how well that many people would fit into the house. To our surprise, it never really got too packed, and the entire house, including the back porch and backyard got fully utilized.

The most amazing thing about this party was the level of interaction between … well … everyone. For most of the night, everyone wore masks, which I believe created a much looser atmosphere and put the focus on communication rather than just than sex appeal, which often governs the dynamics of interaction at a party. Yes, I do realize how pretentious that previous sentence sounds, but I just can’t think of a better way of putting it.

Stephen and Stacey, pictured just above, won the contest as a couple. Previously, I incorrectly stated that Stephen won, which would only be half-true. Stephen’s flamethrower man costume was pretty sweet, and Stacey as his “smoke & mirrors” completed the effect. It’s too bad I didn’t get more pictures of them both, particularly the big rusted canister he was wearing on his back. I’m not sure where it came from, but it was a steampumk classic. Combined, the two of them most definitely deserved the first prize. The fact that his home-made flamethrower was actually working was super cool to some and a little scary to others. Since the night ended without any propane explosions, I’d say it was a success.

Here you can watch a video of Stephen and his flamethrower helping blow up some pumpkins in the back yard. I’m sorry about the quality but it’s the best my phone can do at night. Should be enjoyable nonetheless.

For a full gallery of pictures from the party, you can go here. I picked and pulled what I felt were the best pics from my set and all the ones I received from other people at the party.

Thank you all who came to have a fantastic time with us, and see you next year.

Characters
Laura, bum, man getting coffee

Location
Coffee shop across the street from a hotel in San Francisco

Scene
A bum follows Laura from the street into the coffee shop and starts asking her for money.

Bum
Excuse me, Miss, you got any money?

Laura
No, somebody stole my wallet.

Bum
Who stole your wallet?

Laura
I don’t know I didn’t see who stole it.

Bum (pointing out the man getting coffee)
He’s got money. Did he take your wallet?

Laura
No, I don’t think so.

Bum (to man getting coffee)
Hey man, why you stole her wallet?

Man getting coffee
Uh sorry, I don’t have any personal muggings scheduled until tomorrow.

Of course, unlike the other scripts, this one was not experienced by me personally, but the first time I heard about the ordeal I knew it deserved a better fate than withering away in memory.

I discovered this guy ages ago, so you may have already seen these videos. If you have not, sit back and enjoy:

Johan Lippowitz doing “Torn”

“Don’t Look Back in Anger”

“That’s My Home”

Johan Lippowitz and Natalie Imbruglia doing “Torn” together

If I just killed your work productivity, I am sorry =)

I’ve often debated the meaning of irony with friends, most notably with Stephen, who dismisses pretty much every case presented to him, calling it either bad luck or coincidence. Maybe this is irony, or maybe it isn’t, but I can’t think of a better intro so you’re stuck with it.

I received an e-mail today that made me literally laugh out loud. It was a reply from a new guy who works at a sister company. He didn’t quite hit on me but did use the word “lovely” to describe my name. If you’re a guy would you say, “what a lovely name you have” to another guy? No, you wouldn’t. Cool, unique, interesting, different … but not lovely. He wouldn’t either, unless he figured I was missing the man-machinery down there. This not an assumption on my part either. A lot of people, I’d guess about 19 out of 20, who have only seen my name on paper are in for a surprise when they meet me and discover I’m a dude.

So aside from sharing this funny little bit from my daily life, I’d like to point out what I consider irony. I am named after very famous medieval Polish Knight, which in my opinion is as far opposite from feminine as you can get, second only to being a ninja or a pirate.

That my friends is irony (… I think).

I also put up sort of a wish list.

Characters
Zavi, Laura, Erica, random grad student

Location
Washington University, Earth and Planetary Sciences Christmas party

Scene
Erica is drinking hot cider, while the grad student next to her is drinking eggnog. I more or less randomly enter their conversation.

Erica
He is saying that because my drink is warm and his is cold, mine is evaporating faster.

Laura (who is actually TA-ing the thermodynamics class random grad student is taking)
Well … yeah.

Erica
Really? How much?

Zavi
I think the difference is negligible … if you can actually hold that cup in your hand.

Aside from this being probably the dorkiest party conversation I’ve ever been witness to, it was made so much more amusing by the fact that I was the only non-scientist there, yet I presentation my opinion so matter of fact that it ended the debate.

Find out more about scripts
or see all of them here.

On Saturday I got to see the new Coen brothers movie, No Country For Old Men, and I have to say I was so glad to not have read or heard a single thing about the movie prior to watching it. Why? Because it would been a tremendous letdown … as opposed to just a letdown, which is what it was.

Usually after watching a movie I think about it for a little while, digesting all its finer points, and then move on. Every once in a while, if the movie was either really great or terrible or both at the same time, I’ll go online to see what other people are saying. So here is what gets to me about this movie: I had to go through about of 20 or 30 two-thumbs-up reviews that all seemed to have their heads up the Coen’s collective rectum, before I found something I agreed with. Here are two reviews that sum up exactly how I felt about this movie:

“I appreciate No Country for Old Men for the skill in the film craft. I understand No Country for Old Men for its penetrating disquisition on narrative conventions and its heroic will in subverting them. I admire No Country for Old Men for the way it tightens its grip as it progresses, taking us deeper and deeper into a hellish world. I just don’t like it very much.”

— Stephen Hunter, Washington Post

and this essentially sums up why I did not like it:

“The Coen brothers have never really accepted the idea that a movie has to have a plot. Offbeat characters, sure. Oblique dialogue that sounds meaningful and occasionally is so, absolutely. Eye-catching cinematography and a subtle, mood-reinforcing soundtrack, no question. Irony layered on thickly as cheese in good lasagna, yes. But a narrative that makes sense from end to end? Well, one doesn’t have room for everything.”

— Lawrence Toppman, Charlotte Observer

The characters are great. The cinematography is awesome. A lot about this movie is just plain fantastic, but when put together it simply doesn’t work. It’s not that the movie lacks a plot entirely, but there are such big letdowns throughout, and particularly at the end, I felt as if I had slept through some vital part. In fact, when the movie was supposed to climax … you know … the part where the cat and mouse game between the main characters culminates in a grand finale that leaves you feeling either elated with triumph or devastated with sorrow … well I felt absolutely nothing. It would be hard to say more without a potential spoiler, so I’ll leave you with this. See it on DVD if you’re looking for something off-beat.

I came across this great website a few days ago and decided it needed to be shared.

The website is a vocabulary match game where you have to match words against their synonyms. For every word you get correct, they donate 20 grains of rice to the UN World Food Program. Since their start on October 7 of this year, they have donated roughly 4,180,025,950 grains of rice. That’s about 104 tonnes of rice. The obvious benefit to you, if you keep playing regularly, is an improvement of your vocabulary. The unfortunate side effect: work productivity is way down again.

Check out the rest of their website — you’ll find some interesting stats, among them what countries around the world are doing to end hunger. We’re way down near the bottom, as usual.

Few weeks ago, Stephen and Stacey held their second annual “Bring your own drinking container” party which was, as before, a ton of fun. If you are not familiar with the party here is the short version:

They provide the booze (two kegs this year) and all you have to do is show up with a drinking container. The word “container” is used rather loosely here because the big twist is: it has to be something you wouldn’t normally drink out of (like the mannequin Stephen butchered and than groped throughout the night).

The high point of the night is always the container contest which breaks down into four categories: biggest, smallest, grossest and most creative. The contest is judged by the audience and decided by their cheers.

Laura won in the biggest category, because size DOES matter (Stephen’s actual words). Keith won for the grossest. Nate gave him a pretty good run for his money but in the end the dirty old tighty-whities persevered. This guy beat me by the slimmest margin since the 2000 Presidential election, and got the most creative award. Now that I think about it, I have no idea who won for the smallest (someone please let me know). Update: Per Keith’s comment below, Sarah won for smallest with a 10 microliter (1.0 x 10^-5 liters or 0.003 ounces) measuring cup. Small indeed.

You can also view all of the images I took here.

As a bonus I’m posting a pic of the inside of my Deus Ex Machina drinking container, which required you to pour in water in order to be able to drink vodka and cranberry juice out of it. As you can see when poured water into the funnel, it filled the white container. The weight of the container would cause it to descend and the scooper at the other end of the see-saw lever to be pulled up. With each scoop from the main (second) container a portion of the drink would be poured into a third container not shown here. It was located right in front of the scooper. Once the top was mounted a tube ran into the third container so that drinking was possible. Two wires also ran into it and whenever liquid was present, an LED would glow as a result of the closed circuit. The container that received the water initially had holes in the bottom which let the water out slowly. Once its weight returned to normal, it would be pulled up by the now heavier scooper. Pour water. Repeat process. There were many other interesting back-ups and safety systems but I don’t feel like going into detail I’m sure you’ve already fallen asleep twice.

I need to …

put up/send out pictures from our Halloween party — a Victorian themed Masquerade Ball — which was just plain awesome. Best estimate is that around a hundred people in fantastic costumes showed up for a good time (some reluctantly leaving around 4:30 in the morning)

put up pictures from Stephen & Stacey’s drinking container party as well as pictures & design sketches of my Deux Ex Machina drinking container that as many have assured me, should have won for most creative. Despite its awesomeness — such awesomeness it would make Chuck Norris nod in approval — it didn’t win for a number of reasons that can be best summed up as: people didn’t get what it did. I’ll explain when/if I ever get around to putting up the pics. That was also a great party and I’m already looking forward to next year.

process all the pictures from my last photo shoot with Carrie, a new acquaintance I’ve made, who has been willing to spend time modeling for me.

come up with more ideas for photo shoots

get packed for our annual Thanksgiving climbing trip

go through a few thousand images, and judge them for the everyman photo contest. two sections down 4 more to go.

On a completely different note, since my last real update I have …

celebrated mine and Laura’s one year anniversary (night of our Halloween party)

completed all possible 200 miles of the two-day MS150 bike tour and raised a little over a thousand dollars, thereby accomplishing both of my goals. next years goal: ride 300 miles in three days by riding the hundred miles from St. Charles to Columbia, then follow up with the 200 miles at the MS bike tour.

read the entire Harry Potter series and thought they were all great.

read Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials series. I enjoyed that one as well though I felt he fumbled it a bit at the very end. The first book, The Golden Compass, should hit the big screen sometime in December 2007.

read almost all books, all the ones I cared to read, by Neil Gaiman (American Gods a while back, then Good Omens, Stardust, Neverwhere, Anansi Boys)

seen the Stardust movie earlier this year as well. Didn’t live up to the book, of course, but was throughly enjoyable.

seen the live action Transformers movie and nearly peed on myself out of sheer joy.

been to a Renaissance Festival (in Kansas City) which was an awesome experience

entered two mountain bike races and won neither of them.

broken my wrist during a dirt-jump crash landing about eight weeks before the aforementioned MS bike tour. spent six weeks in a brace.

done the moonlight ramble.

traveled to Puerto Rico and made friends with some locals

discovered some cool new bands/artists like Beirut, the Decemberists, the Pipettes, Grizzly Bear, Amy Milan, Andew Bird, etc.

I’m sure there is a thing or two I forgot, but as it is 12:30am, I am out.

If you have been watching TV lately, you undoubtedly noticed the commercials for the upcoming movie Hitman. My personal opinion is that we really don’t need another computer game-to-big screen movie, even if it’s one my favorite games. I’m not sure what the story is but I think anything of importance was already resolved in the game. So while technically I’m not really joining in on the hype, I woul’d like to share these paintings and sketches I did of Mr. 47. I did these paintings and sketches a few years ago — I can’t remember exactly — when the game Hitman: Condename 47 first came out.

Last year I was introduced to a band called Beirut, a seemingly random collection of experimental instrumentalists from Brooklyn, led by young mastermind Zach Condon, through a song so memorable it lodged itself in my brain and refused to depart. Mount Wroclai (Idle Days), as the song is nonsensically titled, makes just as little sense lyrically. This, however, doesn’t mater at all, as Condon’s voice simply adds another layer — another crooning instrument, if you will — to what starts out as an eastern European / Balkan gypsy-ish accordion piece. Perhaps that is the reason why I find this song, and everything else by Beirut, so appealing. I find myself transported to a different yet familiar and comfortable place. Zach Condon’s music manages to be strangely uplifting while being melancholic — probably a result of mixing loopy accordion riffs, lazy trumpets and chiming glockenspiels with a waltz-like tempo and beat, that makes you want to get up and move to its mesmerizing rhythm.

What brought me out of blog-hiding was another Zach Condon masterpiece upon which I stumbled just a few days ago. Nantes, can be found on the recently released CD, The Flying Club Cup, which is, from what I understand, phenomenal. While I have not had a chance to listen to The Flying Club Cup, I have listened to Nantes over and over again. As one reviewer wrote, “That enigmatic, unclassifiable quality continues on Nantes [...]. The haunted-house organ riff that opens the song sounds like a setup for a variation on modern garage rock. But when the tango beat enters soon after, Nantes transforms into something else altogether: a new genre that could be called poignant ballroom cabaret pop, with Condon’s drowsy voice intoning over it.” Indeed Condon seems to have managed to transcend musical genre’s once again, which is one of those small victories for anyone who doesn’t like neat little well-labeled packages. The only question that remains now, is weather Beirut will be making a stop in St. Louis anytime soon.

Mount Wroclai (Idle Days) on youtube. The video was made by a random fan, there is no official music video for this song.

Nantes on youtube

Nantes performed live in the streets (of New York I think Paris I am told)

Enjoy.

I think we all know who I’m talking about here. We’ve all seen the wannabe baller in a 1980’s Cadillac held together by duct tape and chewing gum, rolling along on 20-inch high-polish wheels that probably cost more than the car. We’ve all heard (and felt, deep down in our diaphragm) the audiophile who spent more than four months of his salary on an array of 15- and 12-inch subs, in attempt impress us by stubbornly refusing to bleed out of his facial orifices despite having ruptured his ear drums and rattled his brain as loose as the screws that once held his car together. We’ve all hastily rolled up our windows and turned the vent to “re-circ” as we dove into the plumes of black smoke that were being emitted generously by that one dude who refuses to accept the fact that his car is burning oil and gasoline at a 1:1 rato. Yet through the billowing clouds of carbon monoxide, and various carcinogenic pollutants, we can dimly make out the flickering screen of a sizable lcd tv.

So here’s to you, Mr. misguided car enthusiast. You may occasionally annoy us by actively shedding pieces of your car on the freeway, or by causing our ears to buzz for hours after getting stuck next to you at that fateful stoplight, but you do do one thing. Your make our drive infinitely more interesting than the radio ever could.

If I were to get rid of my hatchback though, this how my rig would look. For serious …

Earlier today I stumbled upon this article written by Kevin Tillman and I absolutely had to share it with anyone who may come across my blog. Kevin Tillman as you may or may not know is the brother of Pat Tillman, the Arizona Cardinals safety who was shot and killed in Afghanistan in April of 2004. Pat turned down a 3.6 million dollar three-year contract with the Cardinals and chose to enlist in the Army instead. His brother Kevin also enlisted, and passed up a career in professional baseball.

This letter is written in anticipation of the November 7th elections, and I hope it will move people to consider what we have allowed go on in this country.

After Pat’s Birthday

It is Pat’s birthday on November 6, and elections are the day after. It gets me thinking about a conversation I had with Pat before we joined the military. He spoke about the risks with signing the papers. How once we committed, we were at the mercy of the American leadership and the American people. How we could be thrown in a direction not of our volition. How fighting as a soldier would leave us without a voice… until we get out.

Much has happened since we handed over our voice:

Somehow we were sent to invade a nation because it was a direct threat to the American people, or to the world, or harbored terrorists, or was involved in the September 11 attacks, or received weapons-grade uranium from Niger, or had mobile weapons labs, or WMD, or had a need to be liberated, or we needed to establish a democracy, or stop an insurgency, or stop a civil war we created that can’t be called a civil war even though it is. Something like that.

Somehow our elected leaders were subverting international law and humanity by setting up secret prisons around the world, secretly kidnapping people, secretly holding them indefinitely, secretly not charging them with anything, secretly torturing them. Somehow that overt policy of torture became the fault of a few “bad apples” in the military.

Somehow back at home, support for the soldiers meant having a five-year-old kindergartener scribble a picture with crayons and send it overseas, or slapping stickers on cars, or lobbying Congress for an extra pad in a helmet. It’s interesting that a soldier on his third or fourth tour should care about a drawing from a five-year-old; or a faded sticker on a car as his friends die around him; or an extra pad in a helmet, as if it will protect him when an IED throws his vehicle 50 feet into the air as his body comes apart and his skin melts to the seat.

Somehow the more soldiers that die, the more legitimate the illegal invasion becomes.

Somehow American leadership, whose only credit is lying to its people and illegally invading a nation, has been allowed to steal the courage, virtue and honor of its soldiers on the ground.

Somehow those afraid to fight an illegal invasion decades ago are allowed to send soldiers to die for an illegal invasion they started.

Somehow faking character, virtue and strength is tolerated.

Somehow profiting from tragedy and horror is tolerated.

Somehow the death of tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of people is tolerated.

Somehow subversion of the Bill of Rights and The Constitution is tolerated.

Somehow suspension of Habeas Corpus is supposed to keep this country safe.

Somehow torture is tolerated.

Somehow lying is tolerated.

Somehow reason is being discarded for faith, dogma, and nonsense.

Somehow American leadership managed to create a more dangerous world.

Somehow a narrative is more important than reality.

Somehow America has become a country that projects everything that it is not and condemns everything that it is.

Somehow the most reasonable, trusted and respected country in the world has become one of the most irrational, belligerent, feared, and distrusted countries in the world.

Somehow being politically informed, diligent, and skeptical has been replaced by apathy through active ignorance.

Somehow the same incompetent, narcissistic, virtueless, vacuous, malicious criminals are still in charge of this country.

Somehow this is tolerated.

Somehow nobody is accountable for this.

In a democracy, the policy of the leaders is the policy of the people. So don’t be shocked when our grandkids bury much of this generation as traitors to the nation, to the world and to humanity. Most likely, they will come to know that “somehow” was nurtured by fear, insecurity and indifference, leaving the country vulnerable to unchecked, unchallenged parasites.

Luckily this country is still a democracy. People still have a voice. People still can take action. It can start after Pat’s birthday.

Brother and Friend of Pat Tillman,
Kevin Tillman

Link to original article:
http://www.truthdig.com/report/item/200601019_after_pats_birthday/

Characters
Zavi, Girl and some other people sitting around

Location
Classroom

Scene
I’m sitting in the classroom after the class listening to a conversation between two girls sitting next to me. The conversation started out when the girl was looking at the picture of a pregnancy test on the web.

Zavi (with sarcasm)
I never understood why you need two lines on there. Why not just have yes or no?

Girl
Well one is just a test strip.

Zavi
So are you pregnant?

Girl
No, but this other b**** is, but I don’t think it’s my boyfriend’s.

Zavi
Wait, your boyfriend got another girl pregnant?

[I can't remember exactly what was said after that, she said a lot but it basically continues something like this]

Girl
Well he just got out of jail, so he got with the first chick he could.

Zavi
I see. What was he in jail for?

Girl
Here, I’ll show you.

[She pulls up a myspace page of some chick that's obviously too young]

Girl
Don’t look too hard, she’s 15.

Zavi
No worries, my age cut-off is quite a bit over the legal age.

[She clicks a few links and gets to another picture of a bunch of guys standing around]

Girl
Here’s my boyfriend at his sex-offender class.

[She said this in an almost cheerful way — I really couldn't think of anything else to say]

Zavi
Wow, you must be proud?

Honestly, what the hell do you say after a bit of conversation like that. Never understood how women can expect anything but the worst for guys likee that. And for the record, the guy is in his late 20s.

Find out more about scripts.

Why hiring high-school kids is bad for business

When I moved to the states in 1998, the most notable difference was the employment of high school students throughout various establishments. Work was nothing new to me — I had also been working with my next door neighbor in the summers (as a plumber) since I turned 15, but that was over once school started and my level of responsibility was always minimal. I would watch, learn, and help out when an extra hand was needed. Here, however, these kids were full-fledged employees with responsibilities and customers. I think giving young adults responsibilities is a good thing but the whole business model of paying high school teens next to nothing to fill various positions is flawed. In comparison, being a sales associate at a department store in Germany was not a teenager’s job and people would attend the equivalent of a junior college to become a bank teller or a factory worker. Perhaps the concept of hiring kids to do some jobs isn’t that flawed, however the resulting application and cases where these kids are being underpaid for doing jobs that are a little over their head, are tremendously flawed.

We’ve often discussed the implications of having a hormone-crazed teenage working force and my friend coined an interesting phrase in response to questionable service we’ve received in the past. “For $5.50 an hour you’re only paying my body to be there – don’t expect me do anything besides showing up.” His interpretation of a teenagers’ point of view is fairly obvious at places like movie theaters where I still get carded, even when I’m sporting a full beard and my receding hairline. If I get carded for alcohol, it’s one thing, but when some 16 year old implies that I might not be 17, that’s seriously hysterical. I’ve sort of made a sport of this, although I don’t go to the movies as often as I used to. I would pretend that I did not have my ID while purchasing a ticket, and then proceed argue with the teen-on-a-power-trip about why it’s silly to insist there’s any chance I’m 16. I would also throw in some big words to really illustrate that I’m not a high school sophomore (Is this issue really that inexplicable?) Sometimes I would win and other times it would come down to speaking to a manager. Every time a manager showed up he or she would nod and say “that’s fine,” immediately after shooting the little punk a mildly contemptuous look for wasting his or her time with such idiocy. Soon another thing became obvious. All the words that a look of contempt is supposed say would usually fall on deaf ears because the kid working the counter either didn’t get it, or simply didn’t care. Sometime, I would also simply walk into the movie without having my ticket checked so I suppose my friend is right, they’re paying their physical presence and not much beyond that.

While the example of poor service you receive at a movie theater isn’t truly significant, there are occasions when this is a problem. I wrote about one incident close to a year ago involving a sales associate at a outdoors oriented store. I’m not going to discuss the details, but let’s just say he made a huge mistake by suggesting a certain product to a buyer. I stopped him and explained why it was a terrible idea and then I explained to the customer the proper way to go about resolving the issue. (This probably wasn’t to smart on my part because I could probably get sued if something went wrong, but I did also tell him to ask for a in-depth explanation at the other store I sent him to.) The customer thanked me and contrary to the bitterness I was expecting from the sales associate, I received nothing but a semi-polite but distinct attitude of indifference. He didn’t care about the fact that he was wrong regarding an issue that could result in injury, he didn’t seem to care that I made him look like a moron in front of a customer and he didn’t seem to care that I probably could have gotten him fired, had I requested to see a manager about this. As a result of this incident, I avoid that store at all costs. So while they saved on paying their employees they lost money by ensuring that a customer will not return to that store, or any other that bears its name, ever again.

hope that more people will understand that they as consumers have the power (in fact only they have that power) to control the level of service they will get. Too many people just take it and go on their marry way. I’m not saying go out there and picket-fence the store in question, but talk to a manager and tell them what went wrong. You don’t even need to single out an employee since this problem transcends far beyond one teenager who doesn’t have much beyond next Friday’s party on his mind.

If you’ve been paying attention you might say, “Follow your own advice, dude.” I would say: “I’m glad you’ve been paying attention and while I have ignored this in the past, I assure I would make it known these days.”

I hope you will too.

This blog title should actually say: What I just read (after waiting 6 months to get the book)

It’s true. I went to my local library some time ago to get the sequel to my beloved Ender’s Game novel, only to find out I’m 12th in the queue. Somehow 12 people took well over 6 months to read a 270-some page novel. I got the book on Monday and was finished with it by Thursday and that’s with class from 9 am till 9:30 pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays and work in between.

WTF, people? If you want to hang onto the book for weeks at a time then go buy a copy. Seriously, they should have literacy exams before you’re allowed to get books from the library. If you have to sound out the big words you’re card is gone like that. Zap! I’m all for pushing literacy in this country, because God knows it’s bad enough — I think we rank somewhere between Kazakhstan and Bangladesh, but I don’t have any sources to back that up so don’t quote me — but who ever has reading and/or comprehension issues should be reading whatever books fix reading and/or comprehension issues, not Ender’s Game sequels.

The way I see it, these cats read Ender’s Game, right, and they loved it. Genius children in a military school training in zero gravity and always trying to stay a step ahead of each other. Andrew Wiggin who calls himself Ender, of course, emerges as the guy who simply walks ahead of everyone without even trying. What’s not to love there, right?

If you don’t want any spoilers about Ender’s game, as obvious as they may be, continue by reading the next paragraph. Well after the formics are destroyed (oops, spoiler warning) Ender has a nervous breakdown because was makes him so great is his ability to empathize with other people and as it turns out other beings. Another one of Ender’s life philosophies — You must love your enemy to understand them, and beat them — surely plays a role in his breakdown after he discovers that he is responsible for wiping out an entire species.

Ender’s Game was quite action packed and from what I hear they are making it into a movie due out in 2008 sometime. Speaker for the Dead, however, is not nearly as action-packed and is a lot more … philosophical.

Speaker for the Dead is mainly about Ender’s redemption (to me anyway). Since the ending of the first book I could almost feel how guilt stricken Ender was, and a promise needed to be upheld. SFTD occurs many thousand years after the original novel, for Ender and his sister Valentine have been traveling from planet to planet at relativistic speeds (and not getting much older). Ender is a “Speaker for the Dead” which is now an official title as his first books The Hive Queen and the Hegemon — the first telling explains the conflict between humans and formics and the second tells the story of his brother Peter, Hegemon of the Earth — have spawned an entire religion and many speakers who travel and tell the life of the deceased in a very different manner. I’ll let you read the book to figure out what I mean. Ender’s name now used as a curse word, it has far surpassed the infamy of Hitler and Stalin and is almost synonymous with Xenocide which refers to genocide of an alien species. No one knows that Speaker Andrew Wiggin is actually the original speaker for the dead as well as Ender the Xenocide, since that would make him some 3000 years old.

I really don’t know where I was going with this other than to illustrate the burden that’s not just hanging above Ender each day, but is being constantly flung in his face.

So you can see there is a lot more depth to this story as well as the one involving the “piggies” which are another intelligent life form living on a far away planet. So my thought here is, all these cats liked the first book with its action packed chapters, but they struggled to finish the much more important second book because there really weren’t any explosions – only mysteries and questions and Ender’s quest for redemption.

Well next time you want to challenge yourself, please don’t do so at my expense. I suppose I could have just bought the book but that is not really the point now, is it ?

Anyway, the book was awesome and I went to get Xenocide (part III) and they don’t have it at all in the library system. I hope they can order it from somewhere.

What a weekend.

It all started on Friday, when I took off early from work and got home to pack up everything I would need. A few items of clothing, tent, sleeping bag, pads, bike, helmet, shoes … oh and I almost forgot (indeed I did have to turn around for this) my water bottles.

Once everything was stowed in the back of my hatchback, I hit the road to Columbia, Missouri. Having left work early I had plenty of time to make the seven pm team dinner. Or so I thought. Just as I hit the first major highway I hit traffic so bad, it would give downtown Los Angeles traffic-penis-envy, if such a thing existed. It took me over an hour to make it out of Saint Louis and my ride was no longer leisurely.

I arrived to the dinner only a little late, and luckily for me the waitresses were slacking worse than pot-smoking college freshmen. I had plenty of time to get introduced, take pictures before they even came to take our orders.

After the dinner I followed my team-captain’s vague directions to where the event would be held, it was time to set up a roof over my head. After setting up the tent I was not ready to go to bed yet, and I could hear the sounds of a band coming from the lower area where all the team tents were located. The band sound pretty bad and they were playing for a handful of people still left in front of the stage. After a few minutes I decided I had enough of that so I returned to my tent.

I went to sleep despite the heat which was generously provided my arctic sleeping bag — I did briefly consider sleeping on top of the sleeping bag but I knew from experience that I would wake up freezing cold at some point during the night so I decided against it. I woke up around five-thirty am, chuckling at the fact that the alarm was set for six. I quickly changed into my jersey and jumped out of the tent ready to tackle the day.

The grass outside my tent was dewy and I could feel the humidity mixed in the cold morning air. I did not mind it, it was a good morning. The pale orange sun was casting a few rays through the morning haze and onto our field of tents though it was still fairly dark. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of voices could be heard as people were starting to shuffle around. We were all dark figures moving about, everyone with a clear sense of purpose.

Now it was time for breakfast. The pasta dinner from the night before provided some good carb-loading, but everyone knows you can’t start the day without a good breakfast. I got in line at the food tent and got myself a burrito, hash browns, sausage and orange juice — the same thing everyone else got. I filled one bottle with water and the other with Gatorade — which as I soon found out was so thick, you could almost chew it — but it would do. It was now quarter to seven and I made my way up the hill to where we were supposed to meet for the team picture. This year there were thirty-three riders on the team. The most there’s ever been. I was among the new additions to the team.

After the photo I ran back to the car to lock up my camera (I wanted pictures of my own, to document this event — or as much of it as I could) and then back again to grab my bike and get to the start line. We hit the pedals at sven-fourty am and slowly made our way up the first few hills. There were riders of all skill levels, and many of them, on the first stretch of the road so the pace was pretty slow. I was just relaxing but some anxiety would creep in every so often — I had never done anything like this before. As we hit the fourty mile route cut-off, quite a few turned off and more experienced riders continued on. I tried to keep myself from looking at my odometer because I knew I still had very far to go. In fact, we were just getting started and I was nowhere yet.

We came by the first rest stop but we did not stop. There appears to be some unwritten rule that if you’re riding hard, you don’t stop at the first rest stop. We passed it and pressed on. Then, the moment of truth came. The green arrow was pointing to the left, the seventy-five mile route cut-off and the blue arrow was pointing straight. Straight ahead lay the century route. One hundred miles of road full of hills, valleys and pain. After only four actual weeks of riding, many said this wasn’t a good idea. I think that settled the decision long before I had to actually make it — I was doing the century today and nothing would stop me.

The cut-off was at the twenty-third mile and so far I had not taken a single rest. After a couple more miles I saw the next rest area and pulled in. I was greeted with cheers by volunteers and as I rode by a guy stretched out his hand to give me something. I grabbed it still moving on the bike and held it tightly in my hand until I stopped. It was the century patch. Again, it sank in some more – I’m going to ride one hundred miles today. Then I spotted my team captain and some team mates who were not as far ahead as I thought they would be. We took pictures holding up our century-patches and I was glad to see that it wasn’t just a big deal to me. It was a big deal to everyone.

I filled up my water bottles and ate some bananas (a damn good source of potassium). A few words of advice stuck with me from the night before. “Eat before you get hungry, drink before you get thirsty and rest before you start feeling really tired, and you should be okay.” I got back on the road and tried to keep a solid pace but one that would not exhaust me. I had no competition here today except the road that was between me and the finish line. I was feeling pretty good so far but who could know what would happen at mile seventy or mile eighty? I pressed on and kept my own pace, though occasionally I would draft people for a little while. Approaching the fifty mile mark I could definitely feel my neck. The muscles were tense and stiff from trying to hold my head up in this unnatural position so I would twist it left and right and move it around every few minutes. The rest stop at mile fifty was a real let-down. They were out of food and Gatorade. In fact, all they had left were tootsie rolls. Then one of the volunteers went in the back and brought out some sandwiches that were actually meant as lunch for the volunteers – but they figured we needed it more than they did. Hats off to them.

It would be hard for me to describe most of the ride but it was definitely a time of reflection, as I got to spend most of it by myself. The countryside we passed through was beautiful and it never got dull. Occasionally I would find myself riding alongside someone and we would exchange a joke or two, sometimes even talk a little if the stretch was not too tough. Man is definitely a pack-animal. As much as solitude and time for reflection are enjoyable so can be the company of a complete stranger. Sometimes, a team of riders would pass me and I was latch on the back and draft them not because I needed to rest but simply because I liked riding behind someone, and riding at someone else’s pace for a while.

I’m not entirely sure when it happende — I didn’t track all this by mileage, it just so happens that I remember much of it that way — but I noticed that my right foot was feeling loose as I pulled up on the upstroke. I tried to ignore this the best I could and decided to investigate it at the next rest stop. As it turned out, my right shoe was coming apart. The sole was three-qurters of the way off and flapping around. I asked around for some duct tape and luckily they had it. I duct taped my foot and shoe and cut holes for the clips. Only a few miles into it a realized I had put the tape on way too tight, but there was no way I would stop now. This wasn’t such a good idea because by the time I got the next rest area I couldn’t even feel my right foot. I jumped off the bike and removed the tape. I let my foot recover and then put the duct tape back on — much more carefully this time.

The hundred-mile route was basically an extension added to the seventy-five mile route, so at one point they merged back together. There I came up on some of my team mates who did the seventy-five mile route. I rode with them and at the next rest stop we hung out for a bit. I found out that it was easier for me if I didn’t make long stops, so while they still sat around chatting I got on my bike and started counting down. I only had about twelve more miles to go though much of it was hilly.

Shortly after this stop I hit a few hills that made me want cry out in pain but I would be damned before I got off that bike. There was no way I would walk a single mile, or even ten feet.

I pushed on and then I came to a stretch of road I recognized. The marker wasn’t pretty — a big dead possum on the side of the road — but I knew now that I only had few more miles to go. A long but not too steep hill lay ahead and out of nowhere a burst of energy came. I picked up speed and kept it at about eighteen miles an hour the entire way up the hill and then kicked it up twenty-two to twenty-four once I hit the downhill part. I was cruising, I was there!

When I got to the finish line I realized I was just shy of exactly one hundred miles (since the routes don’t add up perfectly). I rode straight past the finish line and right up the next hill. There I turned onto the road that goes up a very large hill and back up to the tent area. This additional little loop got me my hundred miles and then I was happy. After eight hours and fourty minutes, I was off that bike and sprawled out on the ground.

I was definitely hurting, and the sight of the bud light truck made my heart jump. I ate and then I drank. I drank a lot, probably a lot more than I should have considering I had to do another fifty miles tomorrow, but it made those aching legs feel not so achy, so the simple old formula (more is better) was applied and thoroughly followed.

I am not going to state what time I finally made it to bed, but it was late. Very late for someone who had just done a hundred miles on a bike and had to do fifty more in the morning.

I crawled inside my sleeping bag and before I knew, it was lights out.

I haven’t updated my blog in a little while mostly because I’ve been too busy enjoying real life (take that you web-addicts) and by real life I mean rock climbing. Wanna call me an addict, whatever, get in line.

So recently a good friend of mine was telling me about a book that deals with a very different aspect of rock climbing (Most books usually deal with training and technique). The book is called The Rock Warrior’s Way by Arno Ilgner, and its focus is mental training.The obvious reaction to the title is probably: well yeah, it’s pretty damn scary to be up that high. Maybe that is the problem some people have but the book deals with so much more. I have never been the kind of person who freaks out or loses their composure, but there was an entire universe of things I was missing that the book pretty much highlighted for me with a big fat marker. I’m not going to go into detail because chances are you won’t understand it or care about it either way.

Arno was in St. Louis last night and after doing a slideshow presentation at our gym him, some climbers who came down from Kansas City, my friend Callie (who knows Arno and actually suggested to him to come to St. louis) and I went to dinner. Being the youngest climber among them it was pretty awesome to hear the stories and learn from their comparably infinite ammount of experience.

Happy 4th everyone …

Characters
Zavi, Guy, Guy’s girlfriend

Location
A gas station, down town St. Louis

Scene
I’m filling up my car with gas as this guy, who’s been just standing around, walks up to me …

Guy
Hey man!

Zavi
What’s up?

Guy
Listen man my wife’s pregnant and …

[I interrupt him]

Zavi
Is it mine?

Guy
What?

Zavi
Is — it —MINE? … The kid??

[guy looks at me surprised]

Guy
What’cha tryin’ to say man?

Zavi
I’m trying to say … was it me who knocked up your girl?

[The guy is getting somewhat pissed but obviously trying to keep his composure]

Guy
No man, she’s my baby-mamma. All I wanna ask you, is you got a dollar?

Zavi
Wait, so is it mine?

Guy (gets snappy)
No man!

Zavi
Well then why the f*** am I supposed to pay for it?

Guy’s girlfriend
Come on babe, quit botherin’ the man. He ain’t gonna give us nothing.

With that they walked off toward the gas station. It should be mentioned that I filled up at that gas station a week or so back and it was the same guy and his g/f asking people for money. I gave him a dollar back then, just because I thought his bit was pretty original. That day, however, I was having a bad day … and the bit was no longer original or funny.

Find out more about scripts.

Characters
Nathan, Shaun, Jen, Zavi

Location
Cabin Inn, a small bar behind the St Louis City Museum

Scene
We’re discussing relationships in respect to dominance and control of some partners.

Nathan
I dated one girl that was cool but I could only take so much. She was so dumb!

Shaun
I’m sure someone felt about me that way at one point.

Zavi
I don’t know man, I don’t really believe it would be justified for anyone to think of me or any of us as dumb. I may not have a Ph.D. in astrophysics, but I’m not dumb by any means.

Shaun
Well, you do have all kinds of crazy stories.

[everyone nods their head in agreement yes, I have had an interesting life]

Shaun
I think the pig story was the craziest thing I’ve ever heard!

Nathan
Pig story?

Shaun
But you might want to wait till the third date to tell that one.

Zavi
Yeah the pig story is pretty messed up, but then there’s also the friend’s uncle who got shot in front of our building four times and drove him self to the hospital, and another friend’s uncle who got stabbed 30 times or so (he also lived).

Shaun
I still think the pig story is the craziest one!

Nathan
What’s the pig story?

Zavi
Ok, who hasn’t heard the pig story yet?

Find out more about scripts.

Quit entry to post a few pictures from our first multi-annual(?) beach party. This is not nearly as fancy as it sounds since we have no oceans here. My friend Stephen found this cool spot on the Mississippi that’s sort of across from downtown (which technically puts our beach into the infamous East Saint Louis area). A nice secluded sandy beach with a great view of the downtown lights. Perfect place to have a little fire and hang out with friends.

What can I say? I got this book on Tuesday and was done by Wednesday night, despite school, homework and my job. The book is friggin’ awesome. I would like to go on and tell you more but I don’t want to ruin any little bit of it, so just go and get it yourself. Unlike the tile may suggest, Ender’s Shadow isn’t a sequel to Ender’s Game, the original book that started it all. Ender’s Shadow happens in the same time and place as Ender’s Game, except this time we see the events through Bean so it is more like a parallel story than a sequel. There are several sequels and they are broken down into two parts. The “Ender” saga, which are the books that came directly after Ender’s Game, and follow up on the events there are Speaker for the Dead, Xenocide, Children of the Mind, and First Meetings (a collection of short stories). Since my budget for books has recently been annihilated by the Purchase of a very sweet and shiny new Canon 350D digital camera, I have been forced to get my books from the library, where (I actually laughed out loud when the librarian told me this) I am 14th on the waiting list for Speaker for the Dead.

As I said though, there are two parts to this series. The “Bean” saga follows up on the events that come after Ender’s Shadow and while they involve share some of the same characters from the other books, I assume they all follow their own course rather than focusing on the same events. That is all speculation though since I have not gotten my hands on it yet. The books in the Bean saga are, Shadow of the Hegemon, Shadow Puppets and Shadow of the Giant. I should be getting Shadow of the Hegemon pretty soon, since that book was available at another branch and, as always, I will keep you posted.

I had borrowed a copy of the Da Vinci Code from a friend and I loved it. Perhaps this is my own inside joke but throughout the book, imagined Robert Langdon in his adventures and then replaced him with a professor I’ve ever had in the past. Now that is a constant source of amusement. Especially when I think of the faculty who deal with Art and Art History.

So now I finally got around to reading Angels and Demons and let me tell you, it’s quite a page turner. It’s not quite as good as the Da Vinci Code , but the action is consistent through out the book. Perhaps it’s my background in Art and Art History that makes the books so appealing and fun to read and see all the famous works and places appear throughout the book.

I went and got this book a few days ago at the recommendation of a friend and before I knew it I was hooked. I seriously couldn’t put the book down. Today at work, I put down my lunch and used my entire lunch break to read instead … minus the interruptions.

I’d like to go off on a tangent here for a moment, if I may. Why do people never have any problem disturbing someone who is reading a book? I mean if you’re at a movie people don’t come up to you and start talking to you, but people constantly come up to me and try to strike up conversation while I’m reading — which of course forces me to look up from my book and be polite — as if reading a book was not a worthwhile activity. Please don’t do that.

As I was saying about the book, it’s absolutely amazing. It is a sci-fi book and it may not be your cup of tea but it brought out so many emotions in me. Perhaps it touched me because I was a mere 11 years old when I had to deal with a war . I really don’t know. I’ve never had the luxury of looking at life through the eyes of someone who hasn’t lived through a war so perhaps I just think everything relates to it some way.

I don’t want to give too much away but the book digs deep into human psyche, manipulation and control, but most of all it’s about what happens when there is a lack of communication.

If you like books, go get this one. You won’t be disappointed.

Ever heard of Distributed Computing? Well, I had looked into it a while ago but I just wasn’t sure if I wanted to do it. Recently I thought about how much downtime my computer has (when I’m sleeping, at school, at work, out climbing, out camping, etc.) and it turns out it’s a lot – most of the time in fact. I still don’t feel like shutting it off ever, so it ends up not doing anything while it’s on except wait for me to return. I finally decided get involved with distributed computing and it’s actually pretty cool. I feel like I’m doing something good.
My computer is part of Stanford’s Folding at Home project which simulates the folding of proteins, RNA and nanoscale synthetic polymers in an attempt to discover more about Alzheimer’s Disease, Huntington’s Disease, Cancer, Osteogenesis Imperfecta, Parkinson’s Disease and the Ribosome. A worthy cause indeed!

If you get the graphical client for Windows, this is what it will look like when it’s running:

You can, of course, turn this off and just let the client run in peace. You can change a ton of settings and run the client as you like it. You can, for example, set it to run all the time at the lowest priority – that way if any other program needs more cpu time, FAH automatically backs down. You can set how much processor you want to allow FAH to use at most, I keep mine usually at about 90 percent. You can also set FAH to run only when it’s in screensaver mode. This means you set the screensaver to turn on after x amount of time and the FAH client does not use any of your resources unless the computer has been idle for that time.

When you open up the client you see the protein or fold currently being worked on. You can set it to display as the ball and stick model or the space-fill model. The information on the left shows your your name, your team number (446 is the google team), the number of WU (work units) you’ve finished, protein that’s being worked on, how many frames have being simulated out of the total and average time it takes to process one frame. Below that it shows when the next frame will be done and below that it shows how long it will take, approximately, to finish the entire work unit. This will change depending on how much free processor time the FAH client can get.

If you’re interested in distributed computing, visit http://folding.stanford.edu/ for more information.

I swiped this book off my friends desk recently and so far I have to say American Gods by Neil Gaiman is one of the more interesting stories I have ever read. The writing isn’t necesserily the best – and I would say the same of Stephen King whose Dark Tower series I enjoyed thoroghly – but the story certainly makes up for what it lacks elsewhere. The book stars out with a crown jewel of irony (the fatal kind) for our main character, Shadow, which aside from ruining all his plans removes all and restrains that would stop him from getting involved with a mysterious character who tells him his name is Wednesday, becuase the day was … well Wednesday. With every page Shadow sinks deeper into this intriguing new world he never knew existed, and you will anxiously turn the pages to follow him.

About a year ago I had the good fortune of coming across Tim O’Brien’s The Things They carried in my American History class. A work of fiction, by O’Brien’s own admission, that often appears a true story of O’Brien’s own time in Vietnam. It depicts war better than any other book I’ve read, and having survived it myself I can vouch for the picture it paints. You will lose yourself in the truths and untruths of the soldiers’ storytelling, and soon you’ll realize that you are unable to distinguish.

The Things They Carried was beyond excellent so when I saw this book sitting on my friend’s desk I swiped it immediately (with his knowledge of course). In The Lake of The Woods is quite a bit different from The Things They Carried, but it still draws much of its underlying story from events in Vietnam. The story has no ending from what I understand. I have not finished it yet, so I can’t say with certainty, but it appears that we are left to draw our own conclusions. We follow the story of John Wade through the events that surround the vanishing of his wife Kathy, occasionally interrupted with a court-style summary of evidence and testimony. The story takes us to John Wade’s traumatic childhood event of losing his father and as we move on to his time in Vietnam and beyond, we understand the presence of his childhood trauma that was never dealt with.

“At bottom, this is a tale about the moral effects of suppressing a true story, about the abuse of history, and what happens to you when you pretend there is no history.”
- The New York Times Book Review

Yes, it’s finally here!

After 2 long years, 8 painfully slow months and 5 never-ending days, it is finally here. If you don’t know what I’m talking about stop reading RIGHT NOW! Serioulsy! Get the f——— off your computer; Get your sorry ass out to your car and drive to the nearest book store where you will pick up a copy of George R.R. Martin’s Game Of Thrones, book one of the EPIC series, Song of Ice and Fire.

Serioulsy people, I cannot even begin to explain to you just how kick-ass his books are and how happy I am to finally have the fourth book, A Feast For Crows. Even if I tried to explain, I don’t think I could. It’s like the matrix (except part II and III really sucked) because you can’t simply be told what awaits you behind the covers, you just have to read it for yourself.

Now, because I have a huge project due tomorrow, which incidentally also happens to be a book, and I am trying to finish three other less important projets, I will take some time and give you a brief summary of what this is all about.

No wait a second, that’s a really stupid idea. I think I will use this time — time I do not have — and spend it with the characters that were still alive in the last pages of book three. The coolest of them being of course Arya Stark of Winterfell and her half brother Jon Snow, now hopefully Commander of the Night’s Watch. As despicable as the Lannisters are, Tyrion Lannister of Casterly Rock, an ugly and deformed dwarf is undoubtedly one of the greatest characters in any book out there. Daenerys Targaryen, the ruthless 14 year old “Mother of Dragons” and now commander of the Unsullied — a truly scary army of fearless, emotionless, unflinching eunuchs that have been trained as infantry soldiers since their childhood — will probably not be making much of an appearance in this book but I’m sure will be moving closer and closer to her goal of re-capturing her family’s lost Kingdom.

If you can read — and how could have ever gotten this far otherwise — go pick up book one. RIGHT NOW!