Confronting Murtha

internet's out

Rather than run the coax along the eave of my house with the other wires, the cable company ran it around the perimeter of the roof of my covered patio. Well, it was tucked away so neatly that I had not forseen the ensuing havoc it would wreak on my internet connection when I tore the patio down last weekend. I didn't care too much, for I don't need internet access at home for much other than to check emails, manage my fantasy football team, and play the occasional online game with friends; however, the damage is such that I was unable to repair it (despite a labored attempt after the rain had passed last night), so I am forced to pay the cable company (who, in my opinion, are truly at fault) to make a visit and fix the problem.

Sometimes I wish Al Gore would've just made the entire internet wireless.

And free.

And green.

And accessible through the use of nothing but the human brain.

Like Bill like Hill

It looks like Norman Hsu, a wealthy New Yorker, has possibly been funneling donations to Hillary Clinton's campaign through a middle-class Californian family - the Paws. (Read the article here.) Remembering some of Bill's unethical fund-raising, I can't say I'm surprised.

project 1

In the near future, I'll hopefully be chronicling a few projects that I'd like to do. This is the first: a hollowed out book. I started with this Physician's Desk Reference that I picked up for a couple of bucks at the Goodwill:

I measured a half-inch from the edge of the pages and started going to work with an exacto knife.

It took a few minutes here and there in the evenings, but I eventually got it finished. As you can tell from the following picture, my edges are a little rough. I think this was due to a combination of my technique and my quickly dulling blades.

After all the cutting was done, I glued the back cover on, mixed some Elmer's glue with water (1:1), and soaked the inside of the pages. That allows for the book to solidify, but when it's closed, the pages can still be minimally thumbed so as to appear normal. Now all I have to do is find something worth hiding in here.

my near-death experience

When I was 20, I worked for a painting company in Phoenix. We basically were contracted by apartment buildings to white-wash the walls of their units when tenants left. It was a small outfit owned by an ex-girlfriend’s older brother. I think he was about 26 at the time. There were only 5 or 6 of us, all in our twenties, and I was the new guy. I’d been working there about a week when, unbeknownst to me, they decided that I needed an initiation.

Winter mornings are cold in the desert, and this morning was no exception. I showed up at my first appointment for the day – a second floor, 2 bedroom in downtown Phoenix. I walked into the apartment with my equipment and was about to survey the place when I heard a sudden commotion behind me. I spun around in time to see my colleagues rushing toward me from the nearby bedroom. They tackled me face first on the carpet and pinned me down. I fought as hard as I could, but there were four guys, all bigger and older than me, intent on submitting me. All my struggling merely earned rug burns on my face, arms, and knees. My wrists and arms were soon rope-burned as they hastily tied my hands behind my back. My ankles were then tightly wrapped with the same nylon cord, and I was hoisted up on their shoulders like a spitted pig. They headed out into the cold morning air, and started down the stairs. I struggled a little, but soon realized that if they dropped me here, on the cement stairs, I’d probably break something.

Once we were down on the grass, I resumed my struggling. I managed to kick my shoes off, as well as most of the rope that bound my ankles together. It was then that I spotted our destination: the dormant swimming pool near the center of the property. I struggled harder and managed to get dropped on the grass a time or two, but they were resolute in their intentions, and plucked me back up each time. The opened the metal gate and I knew that my resistance was futile. Two seconds later I was face down in the icy water. It was colder than I’d imagined it would be, and I was still for a moment as the initial shock wore off. I tried to stand, but quickly realized that I couldn’t move very efficiently under the water…especially with my hands tied behind my back. I never realized how essential your arms are to righting yourself underwater. I tried rolling to get my head up, but I was still under the surface. Now I was getting scared. I kicked my legs repeatedly trying to get my body upright, but I couldn’t quite touch the bottom of the pool and my body kept leveling back out. I kept kicking, and just as I began to think that I was going to drown in an income-restricted, moderately-priced apartment complex’s pool in downtown Phoenix, I finally got a toe-hold on the bottom. I quickly righted myself, pushed myself upward, and gulped the fresh air as I broke the surface of the water. I worked my way to the shallow end as the guys rushed over to help me. The grins and smirks were gone and they all looked genuinely scared as they cut my hands free. I lay down on the cold cement for awhile catching my breath. The group’s trepidation was soon displaced by nervous laughter and concerned sentiments:

“I guess that wasn’t too smart, huh, Phil?”
“It was Jeremiah’s idea.”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t drown, because I really didn’t want to jump into that cold water after you!”
“Well, this was better than the other ideas we had for you!”

I picked up my shoes as we headed back toward the apartment. Once inside, I stripped down to my underwear and threw all my clothes into the dryer. The one good thing about this “initiation” was the fact that Jeremiah (my boss) had brought Krispy Kreme donuts and orange juice. As we ate, I learned of two other brilliant ideas that they’d had in case this one didn’t work. They had thought about tying me up in a similar fashion, tossing me into the back of a pickup, and then racing around an empty parking lot somewhere. Their other idea also had me tied up in said fashion, only with an extra length of rope wrapped around my chest and under my arms. This rope they would tie to a third floor apartment railing, and then dump me over the side leaving me to hang for a while. Of the three plans, I thought this to be the worst by far, with the pool toss coming as a close second.

I finished eating and checked on my clothes. Still wet. Everyone left to start their days as I broke out the paint and started working. By the time I finished, my clothes had dried, so I got dressed, packed up my things, and headed to the next apartment.

from the mouths of...microbiologists

Here’s a gem from one of my coworkers:
“Hey, you know that show Simpsons?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s Marge’s last name? You know the blue-haired lady?”
Are you kidding me? “Umm…I believe it’s…Simpson.”
“Wha…OH! Haha!”

This nugget was from the same person (bear in mind, (s)he is a scientist):
“You know that natural gas stuff?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it comes from the ground, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, when we use it, does it...like...grow...itself...more?”
Yes, that’s exactly what it does. It grows itself more.

iGoogle

I’ve talked before about how I love Google. Well, I’ve just discovered a new application. It’s called iGoogle. I know what you’re thinking: another “i-thing” is just what we need. But this one is actually pretty helpful (and not owned by Apple, which has to count for something, right?). iGoogle is basically a one-stop quick reference website that you design yourself. To satisfy your curiosity, here is a screenshot of what mine looks like:


Basically, you select from hundreds of available widgets, and then you can arrange them on your page however you like. I opted for a clock, calendar, weather report, Bible search tool, Fox News updates, Dilbert comics, Word of the Days, and Einstein Quotes of the Day.
You can also add multiple tabs for different material. I, for example, have a “Maps” tab with links to Mapquest, Google Maps, etc.
It definitely saves time. With one click I can see my local weather, look up a verse I’ve been trying to remember all day, Google search for a scientific paper I’m looking for, or get driving directions to a restaurant I’m taking Beth to later.
Now all I need is a Google dog-walker and I’m all set.

you gotta see this

This is the funniest Skittles commercial I've ever seen!

black's the new white

If you haven't heard, Google has gone green. Or, more precisely, black. In order to combat rampant global energy usage, Google has introduced a black-screened counter-part that they've aptly named Blackle. Last time I was there, they'd claimed to have saved nearly 150,000 kwh already. Do your part and go Blackle.

this one's for the geeks

Michael Feld and associates at MIT have developed a new three-dimensional microscopy method by which they can view live cells/organisms at extremely high resolutions with no preparation and without having to alter or hurt the subject. (Pictured above is C. elegans, one of the least harmful of the parasitic nematodes, imaged using their new method.)

Here is the article if you’re interested in reading it, which I’m sure you all will be!

Why Men are Happier

Our last name stays put.
The garage belongs to us.
Wedding plans take care of themselves.
Chocolate is just another snack.
We can never get pregnant.
We can wear a white T-shirt to a water park. Heck, we can wear NO shirt to the water park.
Car mechanics tell us the truth.
We never have to drive to the next gas station restroom because the one we’re at is too icky.
We don’t have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt.
Same work, more pay.
Wrinkles add character.
Wedding dress: $2000. Tuxedo: $100 rental.
People don’t stare at our chest when they talk to us.
The occasional well-rendered belch is not only appreciated by our friends, but practically expected.
New shoes don’t cut, blister, or mangle our feet.
One hormone system for all stages of our life.
Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat.
We know stuff about tanks and guns.
A five day vacation requires only one suitcase.
We can open our own jars.
We get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.
If someone forgets to invite us, he or she can still be our friend.
Our underwear is only $8.95 for a three-pack.
We almost never have strap problems in public.
We are unable to see wrinkles in our clothes.
The same hairstyle lasts for years, even decades.
We only have to shave our face.
We can play with toys all our life.
One wallet and one pair of shoes one color for all seasons.
We can wear shorts no matter how our legs look.
We can fix our nails with a pocket knife.
We have freedom of choice concerning growing a mustache.
We can do all of our Christmas shopping on December 24th in 25 minutes flat.

Hat tip Fundamental Forums.

Prevailing.

As darkness fades, he wakes at dawn
The dusty air inhaling.
He drops his head to say a prayer
For what the day’s entailing.
No dew nor drop of water near
His thirst is yet unfailing.
He sees his fallen comrades near
And knows we’re unavailing.
They cannot win the conflict here
With those back home derailing
Their every victory and advance
And every plan detailing.

It saddens me that here at home
Some insist “We’re failing!
But I’m the answer, vote for me”
Their true intentions veiling.
And others still fight for the rights
Of those we should be jailing,
And some don’t like it when we watch
The ones that we’re surveilling
“For they’ve got rights as much as we.”
Our laws are not availing
The capture of these wretched men
While they’re all out regaling.

And still our boys are far from home
The enemy assailing
Risking life and spilling blood
While Congress calls for bailing.
The only way we’ll win abroad
Is if we stop the railing
Support the troops, and in the war
We’ll finally be prevailing.

-P. Ellis

could you repeat that?

We enter the Thai restaurant.

Matt heard:
Thai waitress: “Blah blah blah?”
Matt: “Excuse me?”
Thai waitress: “Blah blah blah?”
Matt (a little embarrassed): “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
Thai waitress: “Are you right or left handed?”
Matt (nervously): “I’m…right-handed…”
Thai waitress: “Umm…”
Matt (whispers): “Phil, help.”
Phil (laughing): “No, we don’t have reservations.”

I heard:
Thai waitress: “Do you have reservations?”
Matt: “Excuse me?”
Thai waitress: “Do you have reservations?”
Matt (a little embarrassed): “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
Thai waitress: “Do you have reservations?”
Matt (nervously): “I’m…right-handed…”

Priceless.

Pavlov's beep

I used to work for a medical laser company based out of Stuart, FL. We would bring our lasers to the ORs of local hospitals and assist the surgeons during operations. I live in Melbourne, but the area I covered stretched from Cape Canaveral to Ft. Lauderdale. I drove at least as far as Port St. Lucie three times a week.

We used 4 types of lasers, each for different applications: YAG, Holmium, KTP, and CO2. Oftentimes at the end of a work day, I’d have to drive down to Stuart to swap whatever lasers I had in my van for the ones I’d need the next day. Taking into consideration the volatility of operating schedules, you can imagine surgeries were constantly being cancelled, rescheduled, and postponed. There were many times that I would drive the 1.5 hours down south, switch out lasers, and then drive back home, only to have the schedules change. I’d have to turn around and drive back down to get a different laser…sometimes the one that I had just dropped off. Other days I’d get home from a long day, only to be called and told I need to be in Okeechobee or Port St. John within a couple of hours for an “emergency” surgery.

During the 11 months that I worked for the laser company, I was on-call every night, every weekend, and every holiday. I remember one Saturday morning in particular, my friends and I had planned an off-shore fishing trip, but I got a call early Saturday morning that I needed to be in surgery at 8am. My friends left for the boat drop without me. I waited at the hospital for almost an hour before the surgery was cancelled. I jumped in my van and started speeding toward the drop to see if I could catch my friends before they shoved off. I was still in my scrubs, but I didn’t care, I just wanted to fish. I called all of their cell phones, but I had missed them by about 20 minutes. Serenity now.

Through it all…the long drives and short weekends, the on-call nights and the paranoia that I’d missed a call for a surgery…through all of it, the medium through which I was tethered to this life of unpredictability was my stupid Nextel phone and its insidious push-to-talk *beep beep.* I would cringe every time I heard that sound, because I just that it meant that I was about to drive a few more hours, or I’d be missing a fun weekend get-together. I began to really loathe that sound and my heart would skip a beat every time I’d hear it.

It’s been nearly 3.5 years since I’ve worked for that company or had a Nextel phone, but I heard the beeping the other day, and for a fleeting moment all those old feelings of anxiety and annoyance whelmed within me. I knew it wasn’t my phone and I wasn’t going to have to drive to Miami, but I guess I still have some pretty strong emotions tied to that sound that have yet to subside.

If only I could get the neighbor kid to mow my lawn when he hears a phone ring…

do it for the children!

Automobiles are abused. There are actually people on the road right now that are driving drunk and/or under the influence of some illegal drug. There are also people driving around with either no license or a revoked/suspended license. People steal cars and use them in crimes; others use vehicles to try and kill other people (e.g. the UNC incident).

According to the CDC, 45,113 people died in automobile accidents in the U.S. in 2004. Aside from disease and natural causes, car accidents are the leading cause of death in America. Shouldn’t we ban all cars, trucks, suv’s, and motorcycles? Look at all the abuses and deaths! If not for ourselves, we should do it for the children!

This argument is obviously ridiculous. Just because there are a few crazies out there who abuse automobiles, it doesn’t mean that the law-abiding citizens should have to buy a horse and buggy like Jedediah and Zechariah. There should be strict punishment for those who break the law, but the responsible people who follow the laws should be left alone.

Now, let’s look at gun control. The vast majority of gun owners in this country are licensed, responsible, and follow the laws relating to gun ownership. Granted, there are some retards who use guns illegally (e.g. carry without a license/permit, steal them to commit crimes, kill people with them, etc.), but that doesn’t mean we should ban them from everyone. Punish the criminals, but don’t disarm the populace in the name of a safer environment. (We've got to protect the children!) We all know that gun control cannot work. It’s been proven over and over in cities all over the world.

-Just for comparison’s sake, 29,569 people died in 2004 in a firearm related incident, including police shootings, accidents, and suicides. (Suicides alone account for over half of all firearm related deaths.) Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr. Brady!

Put on some headphones...

...and enjoy holophonic sound!

Best way to catch an illegal? A Bullet.

My friend, Ben, works for the Border Patrol in Ajo, Arizona. His unit recently confiscated some horses from drug runners in the area, and the animals have now been transformed into agents of our federal government. Instead of roaming the desert in his 4x4, Ben now mounts his faithful steed, Bullet, to run his patrols in search of illegals; and apparently, Bullet is just as excited about catching the bad guys as Ben is.

Ben loves his job, but he does, occasionally, become dispirited with the handling of our border security. He’s told me that for every truck seized, 4 more cross the border unhindered. The agents know it, but there’s not much they can do to stop it. There simply is not enough manpower or resources to catch them all. The drug lords have scouts on every mountain top fully outfitted with nightvision and radio communications. They watch every move our boys make, and counter by relaying to runners the best routes to avoid being caught.

According to the DEA, here are the official statistics of the amounts of confiscated drugs in Arizona for 2006 alone:

12.5 lbs of Hashish
188.5 lbs of Heroine
1,472.5 lbs of Methamphetamine
6,655.9 lbs of Cocaine
777,499.8 lbs of Marijuana

If the CBP are only catching 20% of those crossing the border, imagine how many drugs are actually making it to the streets to be sold to our kids.

I’ve got several theories that would explain why our government is so sedentary in their attitude toward our borders, but I think I’ll save those for another day. Besides, you might think I’m nutsier than I already know you think I am.

Check this out

Nothing like violent Frenchmen.

Thanks to Joe Healy for the link.

YouDebate 2008

Did you catch any of the Youtube Democratic Presidential Debate Monday night? I don’t have any television stations at home, but I did see about 10 minutes of it while I waited for my sandwich at Firehouse Subs (their Club-on-a-Sub is divine!). The 2 questions I heard were:

“Hello, America. Hello, presidential candidates. This is Will from Boston, Massachusetts. And I hope, you know, they put this question on. It's a question in the back of everybody's head. You know, in some people, it's further back than others, collecting cobwebs.
But is African-Americans ever going to get reparations for slavery?
I know you all are going to run around this question, dipping and dodging, so let's see how far you all can get.”

and:

“Do you believe the response in the wake of Hurricane Katrina would have been different if the storm hit an affluent, predominantly white city? What roles do you believe race and class played in the storm's aftermath? And if you acknowledge that race and class affected the response efforts, what can you do to ensure that this won't happen in the future? And what can you do to ensure this nation's most needy people, in times of crisis and always, something will be done to help them too?”

Gimme a break! CNN did a great job choosing which questions to air, don't you think? (It’s no wonder that I no longer watch television!)

CNN has cheapened these debates to the point that I simply cannot take them seriously. I’ve got no love for any of the democratic nominees (not much more for any in the GOP either, for that matter) but this "modernized" format is not fair to the candidates and it's not fair to us. I'd say it's comical at best. There’s a reason that professional reporters moderate and ask the questions in these debates. I don’t care what Dimwit from Podunk, TN has to say about Bush hating black people. I want to hear real questions about real issues facing us today. Immigration, the War, bipartisan pandering to special interest groups, etc. (Not that the reporters always ask the most pertinent questions, but it's better than a snowman asking questions about how his children will survive with the rise in global warming!)

Am I alone? Does anyone find this new format “groundbreaking,” “relative,” “engaging,” or “refreshing?” Or am I right in declaring that it's completely asinine?

guess the irrational fear

“Ever since before I can remember I've been absolutely disgusted by and afraid of them. It's gotten slightly better since I've grown up, but it's still there.”

“I don't touch them, because it would be like touching a cockroach. If I touch one by mistake, I would wash my hands for about 30 mins. I get really disgusted when people have them in their mouth, how nasty is that.”

“They disgust me and make me feel dirty and unloved.”

“If I ever end up touching one or touching something that I know one has touched I have to wash my hands thoroughly, and if there is no sink handy to do so in, I have to try to scratch off the grossness with my fingernail as best I can.”

“I am now 40, have had my phobia since I can remember. I hate the word, I hate the things, they are just gross!”

“When I was growing up I didn't realise this was a phobia - I thought it was a natural thing to be afraid of, & I couldn't understand why no one else seemed to be afraid too.”

“If I touch one I scratch my self so hard so it will come off that sometimes it bleeds and if I know my boyfriend has just touched one I won’t hold his hand.”

“If I touch one by accident, e.g. in a clothes shop, I can feel my heart suddenly jump, & sometimes I feel like I'm going to be sick.”

That last one should give you a clue. Or maybe this will help:

“The big 'four holers' are the worst & especially detached ones.”

If you haven’t guessed, all these people are talking about buttons, and I got their quotes here. I couldn’t believe this was a real phobia, but then I found Avon Hypnotherapy, a company that offers treatment for this ridiculous fear. Wow.

(If you’re a closet button hater, then I apologize if I’ve disgusted or frightened you with this post. But seriously, buttons?)

my dead body is worth a used hyundai.

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Iraqi-town, New Mexico

We need to get out of Iraq and re-deploy our troops NOW, right? I mean, after all, there is no link between Iraq and our true enemies, Al-Qaida. All of those guys are over in Afghanistan and stuff, right? So let’s take our troops back over there, because we have no business being in Iraq!

Well, as I found in this article, Khalid Abdul Fatah Da'ud Mahmud Al Mashadani knows differently. He’s the highest ranking Iraqi Al-Qaida leader…that is, until he was captured in Mosul two weeks ago. Al Mashadani has apparently indicated that Bin Laden has considerable control over the Iraqi chapter of their organization.

So, even though this is now common knowledge, why is there still such an outcry from the left to “bring our troops home?” The answer is simple: they hate our troops. I don’t buy the “We support the troops, just not the war” rhetoric. They hate the war, they hate our troops, and they hate the Commander-in-Chief. They cannot stand to see a victory for any of them because that might rally America behind this administration, and that could be devastating to the left’s chances of winning elections next year. They cannot wait to pull out of Iraq and paint it as a lost war…the Vietnam of the 21st century. You can hear the glee in their wretched voices whenever another casualty report comes out. It disgusts me.

On a lighter note, the FBI has released a report about an operation based in Chaparral, New Mexico that has been smuggling Iraqis and other Middle Easterners across our border for over a year. They used to smuggle Mexicans, but quickly learned that the Iraqis had more money. They regularly charge $20,000 to $25,000 a head. (I’m sure none of these guys have had their way paid by a terrorist state or organization...I’m sure they’re all hard-working Middle Easterners who just want a better life for their families.) Ted Kennedy really needs to propose a bill that will make the FBI loosen up on these poor global citizens!

Of course you realize that we need these guys to come over here and do jobs that Americans won’t do, e.g. fly planes into buildings, car bomb cafés, suicide bomb schools…

“Always read stuff that will…”

"…make you look good if you die in the middle of it.”
–P.J. O’Rourke

A new employee just started a couple of weeks ago and was given a desk across from me in my office. As I was walking by her desk today, I happened to glance over and read the title of the book she was apparently reading: Principles of Manipulation. As I walked back to get a better look, I was considering having a heart-to-heart with her boyfriend, who is also an employee here. It turned out that a cup on her desk was hiding a rather necessary word. Actual title of the book: Principles of Gene Manipulation.

Those silly biologists and their gene manipulation!

title justification

I started this blog in January, and I’m not sure that I’ve ever written a post that was actually about biology. (That’s probably been a good decision because most of you would be about as bored as Rosie O’Donnell at a photo shoot for the next NYPD: Men in Uniform calendar.) However, in order to justify my blog title, I’ll try to sporadically talk a little science for you.

On to our topic…

Most notable discoveries have come after long periods of failure (e.g. Thomas Edison and his thousands of failed filaments). Trials and errors are facts of life in the scientific community, but this is not as bad as it sounds because we can often learn more from a failed experiment than we can from a successful one. (I’ll explain that another time.) Then there are the times when you think you’ve reached a pinnacle moment, but the scientific method has a way of pulling an air horn out of his long white beard, surreptitiously aiming it at the most vulnerable part of your mountain, and toppling your masterpiece while guiding the ensuing avalanche directly into your face. This is usually when you feel like joining the French Foreign Legion and changing your name to Jean-Claude.

Conversely, there are those few times when things work out and your hypothesis proves to be testable, observable, demonstratable, and repeatable. These are momentous occasions and usually excite me just enough to get me through another round of trial and error.

In short, my relationship to science has a lot in common with my relationship to golf: after a day full of slices and missed putts, that one perfect drive down the fairway makes the game enjoyable enough to justify going at least once more. That, plus, if things aren’t working out, I just hit something with a stick.

did you know...

Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.
Chuck Norris' pulse is measured on the Richter scale.
Chuck Norris does not get frost bite. Chuck Norris bites frost.
Kryptonite has been found to contain trace elements of Chuck Norris roundhouse kicks to the face.
Chuck Norris can blow bubbles with beef jerky.
When Chuck Norris falls in water, Chuck Norris doesn't get wet. Water gets Chuck Norris.
Chuck Norris can divide by zero.
There is no such thing as global warming. Chuck Norris got cold so he turned the sun up.
Chuck Norris always knows the EXACT location of Carmen Sandiego.
Chuck Norris has counted to infinity. Twice.
When taking the SAT, write "Chuck Norris" for every answer. You will score over 8000.
Chuck Norris invented the Cesarean section when he roundhouse kicked his way out of his mother's womb.
Chuck Norris once ate an entire bottle of sleeping pills. They made him blink.
What was going through the minds of all of Chuck Norris' victims before they died? His foot.
Guns don't kill people. Chuck Norris kills people.
Chuck Norris sleeps with a pillow under his gun.
Jean-Claude Van Damme once beat up Chuck Norris. He was then awakened from his dream by a roundhouse kick to the face.
Chuck Norris had to stop swimming in the ocean. The tsunamis were killing people.
And finally...
Superman wears Chuck Norris pajamas.

the definition of psycho...

“From Nigeria to Indonesia, Christians are under siege in virtually every single country in the Muslim world, the victims of countless acts of discrimination, depredation, brutality, and murder that are so widespread and systematic that it can rightfully be called the new Holocaust. This time, however, the perpetrators of this Holocaust aren't wearing swastikas, but kufi skull caps and hijabs.”

This quote was taken from Islam’s Global War against Christianity over at AmericanThinker.com. (Thanks to Matt for emailing me the link.) It was an eye-opening read for me. You may be familiar with The Voice of the Martyrs, a publication that tracks the persecution of Christians worldwide. I’m sure many of their stories are related to this “new Holocaust,” but I’d never made the connection.

Sharia law is a cruel and callous master, but those who actually enforce its austere constraints are crueler still. The barbaric psychos controlling the areas that are operating under this “law” have no qualms about chopping off thieving hands, stoning “immodest” women, or beheading “infidels” living within their jurisdiction. As an American, I simply cannot fathom the hatred necessary for the propagation of such an inauspicious lifestyle.

Despite the problems I see in our own land, my gratitude to God for our country is continually renewed as I read stories such as these. No matter how bad we think it is in America, I can guarantee that someone, somewhere is fearing for their life simply for believing in Christ. And I sometimes struggle to read my Bible everyday…

more childhood memories…

By 1991, my sister, Kathy, had been obsessed with horses for most of her short life. Actually, she was truly obsessed with unicorns, but considering the fact that unicorns are about as real as the heaven awaiting deranged suicide bombers, she turned her attention to their closest (existing) cousin. She usually loathed reading back then, but she found time to read every volume in the Black Stallion series, as well as most of the Saddle Club series…and I can’t believe I remember those names!

Anyway, when she finished 7th grade on the honor roll in 1991, she was rewarded, rather handsomely I might add, with Snickers, a yearling quarterhorse that she was instantly in love with. He looked a lot like the horse pictured above: a beautiful chestnut brown with a white strip down his nose.

I know what you’re thinking: what spoiled brats we must have been! Most kids want a pony, but Kathy actually got one. We must have been rich and spoiled and our parents probably ruined us for life. Not so. We never lacked, but we were far from rich. My parents had to scrimp and save so that they could buy that horse…and it wasn’t just a reward for her grades in school, it was for being an honest, loving, helpful, sweet, all-around good kid/daughter/sister for over a decade. She well deserved that horse, and she took great care of it every day.

Now, all of that is background…here’s the story I’m really telling:

I used to go with Kathy to Scott's stables, where she boarded Snickers. It takes a lot of hard work to break a horse, so I would go to try and help her. I was only about 9 at the time, so I’m not too sure how much of a help I actually was, but that’s beside the point.

Anyway, one beautiful, South Dakota day when we got to Scott’s place, Snickers was way out in the back pasture with all the other horses and he simply did not want to come and get saddled up. Armed with only a lead rope and her wits, Kathy headed for that stubborn pack of horses with me at her heels. When we finally reached hornless beasts, they were huddled near the back fence and it was clear that they were happy just where they were. Every attempt at singling out her horse failed. Annoyed, Kathy eventually decided she would just scare the whole herd toward the stables and we could single Snickers out up there. She sent me to the right and she went to the left. She was going to chase the pack swinging her rope, and if they came toward me I was instructed to turn them toward the stables. I ambled around to the side of the pack and waited. Suddenly, Kathy started screaming and ran toward the horses with her rope swinging around above her head. In an instant the languid troop became an undulating mass of flying hooves and flailing mane. They were wild with fear, confusion, and anger…and they were headed straight for me…

(Ever have one of those slow motion moments? Maybe your foot misses a step or your car skids out of control...whatever the reason, your brain is confused and you can’t seem to find a grip on reality. For those few, fleeting moments it seems as though you’re watching everything unfold from someone else’s point of view. You know the feeling? Well, this was one of those moments.)

For an instant I froze, staring unbelieving at my inevitable fate. After what seemed like hours, I came to my senses and dashed toward my only escape: the fence. Thankfully it was only about 10 yards away, and I reached it just in time. I dove head first under the barbed wire and rolled into the neighboring pasture as dozens of hooves thundered by. I lay there for a moment, thankful to be breathing the dusty air.

As I stood up and turned to face my sister, a look of fear and surprise was still on her face. “I thought I’d killed you!” she said.

“Me too,” I replied. We stood there for a minute, just looking at each other, both of us glad that I was alive.

I crawled back under the fence and dusted myself off. Kathy gave me a hug, and with that, we took off after those horses.

range report...

Here's a picture of my brother-in-law, Caleb, fixing his sights on a silhouette a few yards away. For his first time he did rather well (especially considering he was shooting a .40). Most of his shots hit center of mass with a couple of well placed head shots for good measure. We had a blast (no pun intended) and he can't wait for the next time we go. As soon as Beth grants me enough allowance we'll be heading back to hole more paper.

if you can't ban the guns...

...ban the ammunition, because:

OSHA has proposed new rules that could potentially have a serious effect on the making, storage, and transportation of small arms ammo. If these new regulations go through, the price of ammo could sky-rocket, and many places would probably stop selling it altogether. Here are just a few things their new proposal would accomplish:

-Prohibit possession of firearms in commercial “facilities containing explosives”—an obvious problem for your local gun store.

-Require evacuation of all “facilities containing explosives”—even your local Wal-Mart—during any electrical storm.

-Prohibit smoking within 50 feet of “facilities containing explosives.”

I'm confident that stores carrying ammo (especially Wal-Mart) would not want to evacuate their entire store every time lightning flashes, and would therefore discontinue their selling of said ordnance. This would bottleneck the supply chain and drive prices up. And good luck to those who reload their own. It would probably be impossible for them to get the primers and gunpowder they need.

If, like me, you want to be heard on this issue, here are links to OSHA and the NRA:

OSHA

NRA

"Dunder-Mifflin, this is Jim..."

You scored as Jim Halpert!

Congratulations, you're Jim! How'd you get to be so awesome?

Jim Halpert		65%
Pam Beesly		53%
Ryan Howard		50%
Dwight Schrute		48%
Michael Scott		40%
Karen Fillipelli		40%
Angela Martin		30%
Creed Bratton		30%
Kelly Kapoor		28%
Kevin Malone		28%
Toby Flenderson		25%
Andy Bernard		25%
Jan Levinson		8%
Meredith Palmer		8%

Courtesy of: Dunder Mifflin Personality Quiz
created with QuizFarm.com

our grapefruit mentality

People used to be famous because they were special, but now people are special because they're famous. In an age of reality tv shows and morally-shallow moviestars, there are very few celebrities that have any talent or characteristic that justifies their fame. They're faces are simply piped into America's homes until enough people become interested in them. There's nothing special about them (other than the fact that their life is a train wreck and everyone loves to watch a disaster) and yet every move they make is followed by literally thousands of morons people.

I was reminded of this as I drove home tonight from Sunday night basketball. I usually listen to talk radio in my truck (1240 am WMMB) and news clips were playing at the top of the hour. You'll never guess what the major story was... some guy (I won't mention his name here because I refuse to give him any more recognition) who lost in American Idol a couple of years ago got into an argument with a woman on a plane over the arm rest and the woman allegedly shoved him. Our nation is at war, and this is the biggest news story they can find? Just because this guy was on a television show a couple of years ago, some anchor thinks he's special enough that I care about his getting pushed around by some lady. I don't care. No one does.

Jerry Doyle is dead on when he describes America as having a grapefruit mentality.

effectual prayers

It always amazes me that God allows us the opportunity to move His heart through our prayers. We have seen two couples in as many months reconcile their relationship after teetering on the edge of complete dissemination. I have no doubt that it is due to the effectual, fervent praying of our prayer group on Saturday nights. The joy that God can bring after such great heartache is both astonishing and overflowing!

I cannot wait to see what else the Lord has in store for us!

reminiscing...

What memories does this song invoke in you?

i know, i'm turning into a "gun nut"

Where were the police on this one? If this guy didn't have his sidearm he could be dead today. People still say that cops should be the only ones facing criminals with guns, but the state and local police have no protocol dictating them to prevent crime…they just help catch and punish criminals in the aftermath.

In retrospect, I guess the cops did do a great job helping all the kids at Virginia Tech, didn’t they?

so sleepy...

Ok, I was hoping I could brag tonight about my slideshow over --->

But now I find myself beyond tired as I claim victory over Blogger's html code and I simply haven't got the energy. I may have won, but I'm paying the price - lost sleep. It took me no less than 5 programs, 3 hours, and endless rounds of trial and error in order to get 'er done; but, as you can see, I finally did it.

After a few Google searches turned up nothing, I thought that perhaps it couldn't be done. After all, Google does know how to do everything, right? Or so I thought. But alas, my tenacity has won out over my complete ineptitude with all things code. It's been fun, but I'd still prefer a nice click and drag interface over staring at this:

#outer-wrapper { width: 750px; margin:0 auto; padding:10px; text-align:left; font: $bodyfont; }
#main-wrapper { width: 400px; float: left; word-wrap: break-word; /* fix for long text breaking sidebar float in IE */ overflow: hidden; /* fix for long non-text content breaking IE sidebar float */ }
#sidebar-wrapper { width: 300px; float: right; word-wrap: break-word; /* fix for long text breaking sidebar float in IE */ overflow: hidden; /* fix for long non-text content breaking IE sidebar float */

jesse jackson...need I say more?

Crawling the web today, I found this post at a relatively new blog- Gun Owners Against Violence. It's a little long, but worth a read if you've got a few minutes. I never knew that gun control was originally enacted to keep the black population unarmed. I also never knew how hard they had to fight for their right to arm themselves even after legislation had been passed allowing them to do so! And now we've got the honorable Reverend Jesse Jackson leading protests against gun shops as he seeks to disarm the black community!!!

And they call him a civil rights leader?

this is me...not surprised.

BBC posed a question about the Virginia Tech killings on their website. The average age of the commenters was about 11 and it’s sad to see how brainwashed kids are these days. Many of the responders are from London and were calling for gun bans in America despite the plight that they are in due to their own ban on guns.

Here is a recent article about the crime rates in peaceful, gun-free London. Murders are out of control, and it seems that the old addage “if guns are outlawed, only outlaws will have guns” is ringing true with our friend across the pond. In relation to those criminals who have given up their guns, I was not surprised to learn that knife slayings now outnumber firearm slayings three to one in Britain. It isn’t the weapon that kills, it’s the person! Take away a person’s weapon, and he’ll simply grab the next suitable tool that’s available.

It's simple: criminals prey on the weak and unprotected. Guns in the hands of responsible citizens can erode the advantage that a 35 year-old rapist has over a 22 year-old woman. An 88 year-old grandmother with a handgun is as formidable an opponent as the 18 year-old thug who's breaking into her house.

And for those of you who think that the police will save you from violent crime, well, Robb Allen said it best...

early Christmas present?

Here's an iPod accessory I'd love to have:
Hat tip American Agent.

password: 1234

I forget passwords on a regular basis at work. Sometimes it’s a good thing, e.g. when a password is changed and I have to forget the old and memorize the new. Other times it’s not such a good thing, like this morning when I got locked out of my sequence analysis software because I attempted to log in with the wrong password more than three times.

Here are some of the passwords/codes I have to use everyday:

Gate padlock code
Building alarm code
Spin-dial combination for my labs
Spin-dial combination for the back labs
Punch code for entry into back labs
Alarm code for lab alarms
Punch code for secure area
Safe combination
Personal computer password
Multiple secure computer passwords
Multiple software passwords

Many of these passwords gain access to classified materials, therefore they cannot be written down, but must be memorized immediately or I’ll be locked out. Some of them are on a six-month rotation, so for those I’m on my seventh password so far. Some of the others can be permanent, but they must be changed whenever someone with access to them finds employment elsewhere, which occurs on a rather consistant basis.

In all I’ve probably memorized dozens of passwords, codes, keywords, and combinations in the 3 ½ years I’ve been here. I can’t wait to be free of all of this classified nonsense when I become a special agent!

severe case of drymouth...

I was just telling Beth about how dry my mouth was during my recent interview. I’ve never experienced anything like it. I felt like I’d chewed on paper towels for about five minutes, sucked on some desiccant, then washed it all down with a gallon of some kind of diuretic. I’m talking bone dry. Hot…sandy…middle of the Sahara dry. You ever try to eat an overcooked piece of toast with nothing to drink? Multiply that by 17 and you’ll have some idea of what I felt like.

I’m not sure why my mouth dried out so quickly. I mean, to my surprise, I really didn’t feel very nervous…my speech was unhurried and deliberate, my pulse felt normal, and I wasn’t sweating at all. (A soaked collar and sweaty palms are usually the first signs of my nerves getting out of control.)

Thankfully, the agents had prepared a nice tall glass of ice water for me. I felt like I was taking a drink every two seconds, but I guess it didn’t really matter. I was afraid they might take my constant swilling as a sign of being nervous, but they passed me and that’s all that matters.

I’m just glad I didn’t look like this:

I PASSED!!!!

My AC called me Wednesday to inform me that I’d passed phase II! I’m one step closer to being a special agent! When I saw who was calling my phone, my heart almost leapt out of my chest! However, the heavy weight that had been sitting on my chest has now been replaced with the weight of the looming PFT and PSI/Polygraph.

My back is feeling better, and I think I’m going to lace up and go for a jog tonight to test the waters. Hopefully I can start Stew Smith’s 6 week workout on Monday. I’ll have to buy a few dumbells and a pullup bar for a few of the workouts; but other than that, it’s just lots of running, biking, situps, pushups, reverse pushups, crunches, reverse crunches, double crunches, swimmers, dips, lunges, squats, half-squats…need I say more?

Anyway, I’m excited to have made it this far in the process and to have received a conditional letter of employment! It’s almost surreal that I could soon be heading off to Quantico! Never thought I’d actually be here!

Hey, if I make it all the way through, maybe I can keep a daily log of my activities at the Q and post them on here. Think that’s against protocol?

longest week ever!

Immediately after I completed the phase II interview I was totally relaxed. Such was the expected outcome. I was hoping that I would remain calm until I heard the results; however, resting easy is proving difficult. I can’t help but wonder what the outcome will be, and while doing so I can feel my pulse quicken. I do not like to think that my future is in their hands, but I am resigned to the fact that God will use the outcome to perfect His design for my life.

Psalm 37:23 & 31 says:

The steps of a good man are ordered by the LORD: and he delighteth in his way.
The law of his God is in his heart; none of his steps shall slide.

I believe that God has directed the steps of my life thus far. I’m not saying that I’m a “good man” as the Psalm describes, but I desire God’s will for my life and I believe that He has used the decisions I’ve made to bring me to this point in my life.

I don’t completely understand how Providence and my free will can be so completely intertwined, but I like to think of it like this: I chose the truck that I bought. I chose the college I went to. I chose the wife that I married. God has given me a free will to do as I choose. However, when my life is aligned with His Word and I truly desire His will in my life, then when I lift my foot to take a step toward a decision that I’ve made, I can trust that the Lord will guide that step so that I land on solid ground. Many of life’s decisions are left to us, but whatever the outcome we can trust that God can and will use it to perfect our lives in Him.

The moral of my story is that I’m getting very impatient and I want to know now!

and here's heidi...

http://www.myheritage.com

apparently connor looks like oprah...

http://www.myheritage.com

nicknames i've received over the years

Philly
Felipe
Filiberto
Philoffle
Philanthropist
Philicious
Philarious
Phil up my cup
Philbert
Philissimo
Philistine
Philography
Philippino
Philopoly
Inphilitesimal
Philter
Philadelphia Cream Cheese
Philly Cheese Steak
Philips Screwdriver
Fill-er-up Philip

And my all-time favorite:

Phyllis

and here's the bride...

http://www.myheritage.com

guys who wish they looked like me...

http://www.myheritage.com

Atlantis

Beth and I had the chance to go up to Titusville to watch the launch of space shuttle Atlantis last Friday. Some friends of ours live about nine miles west of the launch pad, just across the Indian River so we had an amazing view and it literally shook the building we were in!

I can only imagine the feeling that astronauts have the first time they see Earth outside of a window. I would love to know what that feels like! Travelling at about 5 miles per second a few hundred miles above sea level would be another rush I'd like to experience!

...

Think NASA's hiring?

even better...

Forget my last post...here's the shower head I really want:
The coolest thing about it is that you can tilt the head down 30 degrees to turn the gentle jet streams into a gushing waterfall like so:

Beth will remember me trying to come up with a showering device with just such an ability merely a few weeks ago. I think Hansa stole my idea.

I'm still trying to find out how much this costs, but seeing as how their website is in German (or some other non-English language) I have yet to determine much of anything about this product.

*Update*

Just found the "English" link on Hansa's website, but still no pricing. I've sent an email inquiry to their contact address.

I've found my next shower...

It's made by a company named The Darma Initiative Dornbracht, costs around $7000, and violates our 2.2 gpm restriction code for shower heads. Here's a close-up of the panel:

You can almost feel its pulsing rains, can't you? But alas, as I've said, it violates U.S. building codes. I guess I'll have to settle for Kohler's 216 nozzle Watertile panel:

Bring on the rain!

James Madison

once said, "Oppressors can tyrannize only when they achieve a standing army, an enslaved press, and a disarmed populace." Thanks to Robb Allen over at Sharp as a Marble for writing this post about how America's government is shaping up to become just such an oppressor.

funny story...

When I was about 10 years old, I bought a bb gun from my best friend, Randy. (Randall Vernon…a crazy kid that I just don’t have time to write about right now.) Anyway, I was obsessed with all things mechanical when I was young and loved taking things apart to see how they worked. The bb gun was no exception. Upon purchasing my new ordnance, I promptly took it to my bedroom and began inspecting it for exploitable weaknesses. I found a few screws in the casing so, of course, I grabbed the nearest screw driver and went to work. After taking out the last screw I could find, I gently lifted off the upper half of the casing. Before I could even see the insides of the gun, all manner of springs, rods, and metal bits came flying out. It looked extremely complicated inside, and I soon determined that it would be too difficult for me to figure out. I began stuffing everything back inside as I saw fit. I connected rods with springs and placed bits into slots where they seemed to fit. I had to keep my finger on some of the pieces to keep them from springing back out as I slowly placed the cover back on. I put the screws back in, cocked the gun, and pulled the trigger. It felt the same as before I had taken it apart, so I felt somewhat confident that I had successfully restored it into working order…despite that fact that I had an extra couple of springs in my hand. I eagerly loaded it up and took it outside for some shooting practice. I pumped it up, cocked it, aimed at my target (the shed out back…yes, the same one that I broke my nun-chucks on), and pulled the trigger.

Nothing.

I tried again.

Nothing again.

From that day forward, the only way I could hit something with that gun was to put a target on the ground right in front of me, roll a bb down the barrel, and tip the gun up so the bb could roll forward and out the front of the barrel, dropping onto the target.

Dang.

i hate faulty predication

The phrase is "the reason is that..." not "the reason is because," as in:

The reason I'm late is that I had a flat tire.

instead of:

The reason I'm late is because I had a flat tire.

See the difference? Friends don't let friends use unnecessary redundancy.

an angry American

In President Bush’s 10-minute speech regarding the “Comprehensive Immigration Reform Bill” the other day, he mentions three times that illegal aliens are doing jobs “Americans aren't doing.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! That’s the same line we’ve been fed by liberals for years! It’s a lie forged to convince us that we need illegals in order for our economy and our society to continue. Nothing could be further from the truth. I’ve known plenty of Americans who are perfectly willing to build houses, lay tile, and dig holes for a living!

Sadly, however, we do need the millions of illegals that have overrun our country. Not so that our apples can be picked or our floors can be tiled, but so that our corrupted politicians can continue to tout the broken Social Security System as the “be all end all” for anyone and everyone’s retirement needs. Without the flood of new workers putting money into the system, it could never provide the funds for all the people currently being supported.

I am so sick of the political feces being flung around from press conference to press conference, and being smeared all over the newspapers from L.A. to Boston! Are there no men walking capitol hill? Have they all abandoned truth and justice for popularity and a larger voting base? What’s worse is that I don’t see any hope on the horizon. Everyone is choosing a side right now for the ’08 election, but does no one realize that all of the candidates are just spewing the same political garbage we’ve been hearing in every political campaign for the last 20 years? There are no fiscally conservative conservatives anymore. I don’t think our current President has ever met a spending bill that he didn’t like. Whatever happened to the smaller government and the fiscal responsibility that he campaigned on? I guess everyone figures that a larger budget is ok while they’re in office because, after all, they’re doing good things with it…unlike that last administration!

Listen to this quip by President Bush:

“One of the great things about our country, we just had the capacity to welcome people throughout our history.
And we've become all Americans. We've got different backgrounds, different heritages, our forefathers may have spoken different languages, but we're all American. We've been able to assimilate under the -- under the -- under the laws and traditions of our country. As a result, we're a stronger nation for it.
America must not fear diversity. We ought to welcome diversity. We ought to have confidence in what we have done in the past and not lose confidence about what we will do in the future.”

What is he talking about? We mustn’t fear diversity? We’ve all become Americans? Are you kidding me?

First of all, I don’t consider anyone an American that assembles under a foreign flag on our soil. Secondly, do you really think you’re fooling anyone by turning this into a racial issue?

BORDER SECURITY HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH RACE!!!!

It has everything to do with national security! How is that hard to understand?

(Brief interlude for impending aneurysm.)

I’m really not just “Bush-bashing” here. I think he’s done an admirable job with the War on Terror and the increased cooperation of intelligence centers during his administration; but I cannot over look the gravely dangerous position that he has taken in regard to our borders. It saddens me deeply that our great country has stooped so low as to allow amnesty for illegal aliens.

And make no mistake - despite what our great politicians may say, this bill is about nothing but amnesty.

Thanks for letting me vent!

I. Love. Google.

Google is, in my opinion, one of the greatest modern conveniences we have. I probably use Google ~ 6 times per day on average. Or ~ 40 times per week. Or ~ 2000 times per year. That’s a lot of Googling. I use it to look up definitions of words, local businesses, scientific papers, directions, “how-to” help, guitar tabs, pictures, maps, medical conditions, weather, news, and a plethora of other things as well. But I’ve recently discovered my new favorite use for Google: the Gmaps Pedometer.

You see, I went running the other day, and I wanted to know how far I’d run. I drove the distance in my truck, but that isn’t quite as accurate as I’d like it to be. It was then that I had an epiphany – why can’t we have a “virtual pedometer.” Think about it…how nice would it be to be able to pull up a Google map, draw out the route you want to run, and then have the distance displayed for you on the screen? As soon as I got back to my office, I Googled “virtual pedometer” and guess what? Google didn’t fail me. It led me to a site called Gmaps Pedometer that took Google’s mapping abilities and coupled it with a distance recording capability. The result is pure magic. All you do is click along the route you want to take, and voila! Your course is highlighted on the map and the distance is displayed right beside it. Pretty cool, huh?

"Pretty dang exciting, eh?"

humdingering...

You may think that a cranium is the portion of the skull that houses the brain and looks like this:


You'd be wrong...well, you'd be partly wrong. It's also a newish board game that I think was designed to turn friends into enemies and looks like this:


So we had some friends over tonight for a nice, friendly game. Let me tell you, if you want to see the true nature of your friends, invite them over for a board game. Teams were Ray, Heidi, Andrew, Krista, and Amy against Kirby, Nate, Allie, Beth, and myself. We made it to the end, but plenty of fights broke out during the two-hour ordeal that made us almost want to prematurely terminate our little game. We finally won with an easy question, but it got pretty close there at the end.

Well, it's well after midnight and I've got PT tomorrow, so I'm off to bed. Til next time...

dakota

Here’s my dog, Dakota, when she was a puppy:

This picture was taken a couple of weeks after I got her. She was about 4 months old. She's 2½ now but she's still just a puppy. Her most recent vice is that she loves to get my socks from the bedroom and bring them out to her bed in the living room. She doesn't chew them up or tear them apart or anything, she just brings them out and lays them on her bed. I'm guessing she knows she'd get in trouble if she ruined them in any way, but she still wants to protest the fact that we leave her everyday. A single sock...laid nicely on her bed...almost daily. Oh well, it's better than when she chews on the blinds!

Here is a more recent picture of her:

I'll post some pictures of her counterpart, Delana, another day.

Later...

P.M.E...

I've recently been wondering whether I'm named after Philip Michael Thomas

or the good catholic Bishop Philip Michael Ellis, O.S.B., son of John Ellis:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philip_Michael_Ellis

Mom? Dad? Anyone?

global warming

While listening to Rush the other day, I heard about 86 year old Reid Bryson who is an Emeritus Professor and founding chairman of the University of Wisconsin Department of Oceanic and Atmospheric Sciences. Back in the 60s, he was laughed to scorn as he was one of the first to pioneer the idea that humans can affect global climate change. Since then, he has reversed his views, and once again he challenges mainstream thoughts on the causes of global warming.

Here is an article the Wisconsin Energy Cooperative wrote about his recent views:

http://www.wecnmagazine.com/2007issues/may/may07.html

“All this argument is the temperature going up or not, it’s absurd,” Bryson says. “Of course it’s going up. It has gone up since the early 1800s, before the Industrial Revolution, because we’re coming out of the Little Ice Age, not because we’re putting more carbon dioxide into the air.”

To put it simply, the earth’s climate changes are independent of anything humans have done, are doing, or ever will do.

Did you know that the Vikings used to farm on Greenland for about 300 years? That’s how Greenland got its name. Then, sometime after the 13th century, it froze over and began to look like this:

Now, as glaciers are melting all over the world, can you guess what archaeologists are finding underneath? Mature forests, agricultural water-management systems, and in the Alps, silver mines complete with tools stacked up outside waiting for the following mining season after the winter snows melted. The only problem was that one year, the snows didn’t melt. They didn’t melt the next year either…or the next…or the next. Enter the Little Ice Age. It doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes’ mastery of deduction to figure out that the earth used to be a lot warmer than it has been for the last several hundred years. Things are just now going back to normal after the earth’s “cool season.”

Al, you really need to wake up and smell the silver mines.

siesta anyone?

One potentially good thing about illegal immigration - a majority vote for daily siestas! I don't know about you, but I'm having a pretty heavy afternoon crash today! I could go for a nice siesta right about now!

ahh, the memories...

I was reminiscing today with some of my coworkers about the fond memories we have of our childhood. We talked about the games we would play, like Stuck-in-the-Mud and TV Tag. We also talked about how we determined who would be “it” at the beginning of each game. Here are just a few examples that I remember:

Eenie meenie miney moe
Catch a tiger by the toe
If he hollers make him pay
Fifty dollars every day
My mother said to pick the very best one
And you are not it.

One potato, two potato, three potato, four
Five potato, six potato, seven potato, more

Skunk in the graveyard
Pee-yoo!
Somebody ate it
That’s you!

Inky binky bottle of ink
The cap fell off and you stink

Bubblegum bubblegum in a dish
How many pieces do you wish?

First, second, third,
Military turd!

So anyway, we’re sitting around, reminiscing about all the good times we had, when suddenly I remembered how my sister used to torture me with scary stories of the china doll, the whistle man, and dead man’s curve, just to name a few. For years I could not bring myself to close my eyes in the shower for fear that the china doll would jump on me and scratch me to death. I remember shuddering whenever I would hear the long, shrill call of the whistle man who lived outside near the fire hydrant. Kathy would spin these tales, scare me half to death, and then relish in the fact that I believed her every word, no matter how ridiculous it seemed. I lived half my life in fear of her stories, and the other half was lived in fear of her. Pretty nice system she had going.

Maybe I deserved it, though. I’m not sure if Kathy or any of my other friends ever knew this, but I spent quite a bit of time figuring out how not to be it according to the games I mentioned above. I would simply figure out who I needed to start counting with in order for me not to be it by the end of the game. It took a long time to figure it all out ahead of time, because it all depended on how many people were in on the game.

For example, if there were only two of us and we were doing eenie meenie miney moe, I would start counting with the other person, that way the “and you are not it” would land on me, and I would, therefore, not be it. If there were three of us in the game, however, I would start counting with the person on my right, thereby ensuring that I, again, would not be it. It was simple arithmetic that I’m sure all of us were capable of figuring out, but because the system has the potential to continue ad nauseam, I doubt that any of my friends would ever devote the amount of time necessary to decipher such simple schoolyard games. It did, however, provide me with a certain childish satisfaction.

So anyway, Kathy, thank you for all of the childhood nightmares you so lovingly provided for me through the years…but at least I never had to be it!

FBI Update

Well, I’ve made it to Phase II of the FBI’s application process! I am really excited, but pretty nervous about it! It consists of a 90 minute written test and a 60 minute interview with a panel of three agents. During the written portion, you basically have to write a report based on information they provide. The interview consists of 14 standard questions that are asked of every applicant, and is designed to test 8 particular critical skills and abilities that the Bureau is looking for in its new agent trainees. (The entire interview is tape recorded as well.)
I’m heading to Tampa on June 6th for a little prep session with my applicant coordinator. The actual Phase II is in Ft. Lauderdale on the 15th. Needless to say, I’m getting more nervous as the day approaches, but Beth and I have been praying a lot, and I’m getting close to feeling prepared for it. If I do pass, then a few weeks later I’ll have to do the physical fitness test, which is going to be tough! I’ve been running and working out a lot, so hopefully I’ll be ready, if and when the time comes.
Only about 10-15% of applicants make it this far, and of those people, 50% fail Phase II. Not great odds, but I’m trying to be confident, and regardless of the outcome, I’m thankful to have even made it this far!

perspective

Here’s a little perspective for you:
The big one is called a Buffalo EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) Vehicle made by Force Protection. It’s parked next to a standard, military grade hummer for comparison. The Buffalo can withstand most IED blasts under either its hull or its tires. Approximately 1,074 troops have been killed by insurgent bombs since the beginning of the conflict; however, not a single person has been killed in a buffalo despite encountering thousands of IED blasts. There are currently about 300 of them being used by our military in the war on terror; compare that to about 35,000 hummers still in use. So why haven’t all of our hummers been replaced by now? Simple numbers: hummers cost around $150,000 (fully outfitted), while a Buffalo costs around $750,000. They are simply too expensive to buy in large numbers. (Especially considering the ridiculous battles going on in the House and Senate concerning the new war funding bill.)
Now, let this marinate your brain for awhile: Bill Gates could buy a Buffalo to replace every single hummer currently in use by the armed forces and he wouldn’t even have to have a garage sale. He’d still be one of the richest billionaires in the world! (And I’m not even taking into consideration the fact that he could sell each of the hummers he replaced to help defray some of the cost of his investment.)
Sad that Americans will spend more on a new version of Windows than they'll spend on the safety of our troops.

mmm...

My wife found the newest, greatest product ever released from Hershey’s. It’s called Reese’s Snacksters. They’ve got Reese’s cereal puffs, peanut butter chips, Reese’s cereal squares, and Reese’s pieces. You can buy them in individual packs that have only 100 calories, and they are SO good! They make a great afternoon snack when I need a little sugar fix to keep me going till the end of the day. I just had one and figured I’d write about them.
Speaking of calories, I’ve been cutting down on my food intake recently because I’m trying to lose about 10 pounds in the next few weeks. I’ve been running pretty much every day, and doing numerous push-ups and sit-ups. As I type this, my abs feel like someone sliced through them with a scalpel from hip to hip. Hopefully they’ll feel better by Saturday because I’ve got some heavy training planned.

Till next time,

Counting Calories in Melbourne