tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50751643122033476232024-03-05T06:05:45.845-05:00The Biologianpellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.comBlogger77125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-982580357738673782007-09-27T12:41:00.000-04:002007-09-27T12:42:45.278-04:00Confronting Murtha<object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hMedVWUsSFU"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hMedVWUsSFU" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-50536721081888391812007-09-19T13:43:00.000-04:002007-09-19T14:05:46.385-04:00internet's outRather 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.<br /><br />Sometimes I wish Al Gore would've just made the entire internet wireless.<br /><br />And free.<br /><br />And green.<br /><br />And accessible through the use of nothing but the human brain.pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-50034018993588379862007-08-29T16:48:00.000-04:002007-08-29T17:08:11.763-04:00Like Bill like HillIt 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 <a href="http://online.wsj.com/article/SB118826947048110677.html?mod=hpp_us_whats_news" target="_blank">here</a>.) Remembering some of <a href="http://www.clintonmemoriallibrary.com/clint_reform.html" target="_blank">Bill's unethical fund-raising</a>, I can't say I'm surprised.pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-20471668141425829142007-08-28T13:04:00.004-04:002007-08-28T15:03:48.328-04:00project 1In 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:<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103798871240904626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp6L8g4_Eg0jgZ66mLVQH8uKa71DUWHHAiWUW-d6B5VoEvvJ4Z0kfHI5cVTnOVBVxogcSF09crUde2eINi74dYkU_uU0RrIkAYqVpdDBcdre0ECgI0Xvfk4FDAUnyObBZMpnahkvEKgBk/s320/Book1.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><p>I measured a half-inch from the edge of the pages and started going to work with an exacto knife.</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103820474926403522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-PTSpZNH0YjA6y3nUNfdV2pPGudu3wIcGuINg3XaPNveisYS0NbXkDzP__jPZ1nfDeZp9nQ0C7by865FQkDgqhv7jXwR41iMUsObE12TmWTQMQrcPCtWHjumffzhf5aDMY0S8BUoFyc/s320/Book2.jpg" border="0" /></p></div><br /><p>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.</p><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103824641044680658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVy1LoQpheuN3XVf4efoY07xiq7bJIBt-P39Qe6iXVNzxh47xvIua6mXbjA6MYHzkye7B0KN29TK316xhg97NVQNgus6OahGW9EDxorD33m37Esn5Gf5VGiqn9gP5CsfAcjGL0TeubDZk/s320/Book3.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>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.</p>pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-87236655376266205902007-08-23T16:07:00.000-04:002007-08-23T16:11:14.998-04:00my near-death experienceWhen 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, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">unbeknownst</span> to me, they decided that I needed an initiation.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">couldn</span>’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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">couldn</span>’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:<br /><br />“I guess that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">wasn</span>’t too smart, huh, Phil?”<br />“It was Jeremiah’s idea.”<br />“Well, I’m glad you <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">didn</span>’t drown, because I really <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">didn</span>’t want to jump into that cold water after you!”<br />“Well, this was better than the other ideas we had for you!”<br /><br />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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Krispy Kreme</span> donuts and orange juice. As we ate, I learned of two other brilliant ideas that they’d had in case this one <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">didn</span>’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.<br /><br />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.pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-5573862465839783032007-08-22T16:10:00.000-04:002007-08-22T16:13:52.151-04:00from the mouths of...microbiologists<strong>Here’s a gem from one of my coworkers:</strong><br />“Hey, you know that show Simpsons?”<br />“Yeah.”<br />“What’s Marge’s last name? You know the blue-haired lady?”<br /><em>Are you kidding me?</em> “Umm…I believe it’s…Simpson.”<br />“Wha…OH! Haha!”<br /><br /><strong>This nugget was from the same person (bear in mind, (s)he is a scientist):</strong><br />“You know that natural gas stuff?”<br />“Yes.”<br />“Well, it comes from the ground, right?”<br />“Yes.”<br />“Well, when we use it, does it...like...grow...itself...more?”<br />Yes, that’s exactly what it does. It <em>grows itself more</em>.pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-15941040522272405342007-08-21T13:26:00.000-04:002007-08-22T16:15:13.450-04:00iGoogleI’ve talked before about how <a href="http://thebiologian.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-love-google.html" target="_blank">I love Google</a>. 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:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtXo_xc-KilZixeArbN7nptf3AMXFhYaYKZcSjgePMMdb1cGXFWFiPcyBx4h_wyuzVf0A-LzSjGNeAmCPuuS8hdCNR6wOqweFlr9gxumnv_NmdAvj8gVoKuHImp83rNwlppGqGxaeXDtI/s400/Picture1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101206811233128338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtXo_xc-KilZixeArbN7nptf3AMXFhYaYKZcSjgePMMdb1cGXFWFiPcyBx4h_wyuzVf0A-LzSjGNeAmCPuuS8hdCNR6wOqweFlr9gxumnv_NmdAvj8gVoKuHImp83rNwlppGqGxaeXDtI/s400/Picture1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />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.<br />You can also add multiple tabs for different material. I, for example, have a “Maps” tab with links to Mapquest, Google Maps, etc.<br />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.<br />Now all I need is a Google dog-walker and I’m all set.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtXo_xc-KilZixeArbN7nptf3AMXFhYaYKZcSjgePMMdb1cGXFWFiPcyBx4h_wyuzVf0A-LzSjGNeAmCPuuS8hdCNR6wOqweFlr9gxumnv_NmdAvj8gVoKuHImp83rNwlppGqGxaeXDtI/s400/Picture1.jpg"></a>pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-32685556235296063002007-08-15T12:57:00.001-04:002007-08-15T12:57:35.799-04:00you gotta see this<p>This is the funniest Skittles commercial I've ever seen!</p><p><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TZNrDnfTSiQ" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed></p>pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-2766985110747240092007-08-15T10:20:00.000-04:002007-08-15T10:33:32.428-04:00black's the new whiteIf 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 <a href="http://www.blackle.com/" target="_blank">go Blackle</a>.pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-81353582613573887242007-08-14T14:05:00.000-04:002007-08-15T10:26:46.937-04:00this one's for the geeks<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb38q3uQx94gqCu7Lb9l02GV9upamCXX4NxlO02ktApB_2nzNcF1Lap3yECF_DQLQnqcC4jT-ASpWKxJeHhK87Qx69URP7lbc4ZfLaaA9TwgsaXqqxI6UqSTcCsqJh3gywbVHGRUB1iio/s1600-h/3dcell_x220.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098619523719675202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb38q3uQx94gqCu7Lb9l02GV9upamCXX4NxlO02ktApB_2nzNcF1Lap3yECF_DQLQnqcC4jT-ASpWKxJeHhK87Qx69URP7lbc4ZfLaaA9TwgsaXqqxI6UqSTcCsqJh3gywbVHGRUB1iio/s400/3dcell_x220.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>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 <em>C. elegans</em>, one of the least harmful of the parasitic nematodes, imaged using their new method.)<br /><br /><a href="http://web.mit.edu/newsoffice/2007/cells-0812.html" target="_blank">Here is the article</a> if you’re interested in reading it, which I’m sure you all will be!</div>pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-46327542466924390212007-08-13T13:42:00.000-04:002007-08-13T13:49:47.973-04:00Why Men are HappierOur last name stays put.<br />The garage belongs to us.<br />Wedding plans take care of themselves.<br />Chocolate is just another snack.<br />We can never get pregnant.<br />We can wear a white T-shirt to a water park. Heck, we can wear NO shirt to the water park.<br />Car mechanics tell us the truth.<br />We never have to drive to the next gas station restroom because the one we’re at is too icky.<br />We don’t have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt.<br />Same work, more pay.<br />Wrinkles add character.<br />Wedding dress: $2000. Tuxedo: $100 rental.<br />People don’t stare at our chest when they talk to us.<br />The occasional well-rendered belch is not only appreciated by our friends, but practically expected.<br />New shoes don’t cut, blister, or mangle our feet.<br />One hormone system for all stages of our life.<br />Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat.<br />We know stuff about tanks and guns.<br />A five day vacation requires only one suitcase.<br />We can open our own jars.<br />We get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.<br />If someone forgets to invite us, he or she can still be our friend.<br />Our underwear is only $8.95 for a three-pack.<br />We almost never have strap problems in public.<br />We are unable to see wrinkles in our clothes.<br />The same hairstyle lasts for years, even decades.<br />We only have to shave our face.<br />We can play with toys all our life.<br />One wallet and one pair of shoes one color for all seasons.<br />We can wear shorts no matter how our legs look.<br />We can fix our nails with a pocket knife.<br />We have freedom of choice concerning growing a mustache.<br />We can do all of our Christmas shopping on December 24th in 25 minutes flat.<br /><br />Hat tip <a href="http://www.fundamentalforums.com/" target="_blank">Fundamental Forums.</a>pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-33095942615388331022007-08-08T17:59:00.001-04:002007-08-10T14:29:47.904-04:00Prevailing.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkenwwxv6pxY_E9f5qUY5SDiJQM0ZOjHliI10N3Yl7FyCQSaST0qkBXdIpd49dMWWuacg8hYZG19gO4WkyZ09UOfU1fpKcUXbdNZQ9kiJXSMu80Bmlxb0F5Nc6hVD1ss8k9G4-9geENc4/s1600-h/soldier-1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097140800839400738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkenwwxv6pxY_E9f5qUY5SDiJQM0ZOjHliI10N3Yl7FyCQSaST0qkBXdIpd49dMWWuacg8hYZG19gO4WkyZ09UOfU1fpKcUXbdNZQ9kiJXSMu80Bmlxb0F5Nc6hVD1ss8k9G4-9geENc4/s200/soldier-1.jpg" border="0" /></a>As darkness fades, he wakes at dawn<br />The dusty air inhaling.<br />He drops his head to say a prayer<br />For what the day’s entailing.<br />No dew nor drop of water near<br />His thirst is yet unfailing.<br />He sees his fallen comrades near<br />And knows we’re unavailing.<br />They cannot win the conflict here<br />With those back home derailing<br />Their every victory and advance<br />And every plan detailing.<br /><br />It saddens me that here at home<br />Some insist “We’re failing!<br />But I’m the answer, vote for me”<br />Their true intentions veiling.<br />And others still fight for the rights<br />Of those we should be jailing,<br />And some don’t like it when we watch<br />The ones that we’re surveilling<br />“For they’ve got rights as much as we.”<br />Our laws are not availing<br />The capture of these wretched men<br />While they’re all out regaling.<br /><br />And still our boys are far from home<br />The enemy assailing<br />Risking life and spilling blood<br />While Congress calls for bailing.<br />The only way we’ll win abroad<br />Is if we stop the railing<br />Support the troops, and in the war<br />We’ll finally be prevailing.<br /><br /><em>-P. Ellis</em>pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-71214682105810026042007-08-07T12:46:00.001-04:002007-08-07T17:06:19.555-04:00could you repeat that?We enter the Thai restaurant.<br /><br /><strong>Matt heard:</strong><br />Thai waitress:<em> “Blah blah blah?”<br /></em>Matt: <em>“Excuse me?”<br /></em>Thai waitress:<em> “Blah blah blah?”<br /></em>Matt (a little embarrassed):<em> “I’m sorry, what did you say?”<br /></em>Thai waitress:<em> “Are you right or left handed?”<br /></em>Matt (nervously):<em> “I’m…right-handed…”<br /></em>Thai waitress: <em>“Umm…”<br /></em>Matt (whispers):<em> “Phil, help.”<br /></em>Phil (laughing):<em> “No, we don’t have reservations.”</em><br /><br /><strong>I heard:<br /></strong>Thai waitress:<em> “Do you have reservations?”<br /></em>Matt:<em> “Excuse me?”<br /></em>Thai waitress:<em> “Do you have reservations?”<br /></em>Matt (a little embarrassed): <em>“I’m sorry, what did you say?”<br /></em>Thai waitress:<em> “Do you have reservations?”<br /></em>Matt (nervously): <em>“I’m…right-handed…”</em><br /><br />Priceless.pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-56787325807495088292007-08-03T10:58:00.000-04:002007-08-03T11:02:46.820-04:00Pavlov's beep<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicoDZ9m6GMnnN9Nrgzm0D3Pf8ZQH9QCiHADGmZ1Bbe_GzB_8rfFp6qUkARWbDa1zKXFwAg9kxM6bYcANscMPfKeac-6z3zqulu1gp0p-h2MLzYvgsMFCp0SyKeQeaFeHi8BHAYDVKVi7s/s1600-h/pavlov_conditioning_dogs.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094489663556467970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicoDZ9m6GMnnN9Nrgzm0D3Pf8ZQH9QCiHADGmZ1Bbe_GzB_8rfFp6qUkARWbDa1zKXFwAg9kxM6bYcANscMPfKeac-6z3zqulu1gp0p-h2MLzYvgsMFCp0SyKeQeaFeHi8BHAYDVKVi7s/s400/pavlov_conditioning_dogs.gif" border="0" /></a> <div>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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />If only I could get the neighbor kid to mow my lawn when he hears a phone ring…</div>pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-61648686415726062082007-07-31T13:24:00.000-04:002007-07-31T13:45:34.819-04:00do 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. <a href="http://www.newsobserver.com/102/story/415421.html" target="_blank">the UNC incident</a>).<br /><br />According to the <a href="http://webapp.cdc.gov/sasweb/ncipc/mortrate10_sy.html" target="_blank">CDC</a>, 45,113 people died in automobile accidents in the U.S. in 2004. Aside from disease and natural causes, <strong><em>car accidents are the leading cause of death in America</em></strong>. 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 <em>children</em>!<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 <em>children</em>!) We all know that gun control <em>cannot</em> work. It’s been proven over and over in cities all over the world.<br /><br />-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, <a href="http://www.bradycampaign.org/" target="_blank">Mr. Brady</a>!pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-12612891526721286542007-07-26T15:24:00.002-04:002007-07-26T15:30:04.962-04:00Put on some headphones...<p>...and enjoy <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holophonics" target="_blank">holophonic sound</a>!</p><p><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/x5G3HUiscW4" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed></p>pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-24189141763678558662007-07-26T13:11:00.001-04:002007-07-26T13:11:47.596-04:00Best 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />According to the <a href="http://www.dea.gov/pubs/states/arizona.html" target="_blank">DEA</a>, here are the official statistics of the amounts of confiscated drugs in Arizona for 2006 alone:<br /><br />12.5 lbs of Hashish<br />188.5 lbs of Heroine<br />1,472.5 lbs of Methamphetamine<br />6,655.9 lbs of Cocaine<br />777,499.8 lbs of Marijuana<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-8778248941576015412007-07-26T11:45:00.000-04:002007-07-26T11:51:43.906-04:00Check this out<a href="http://www.club-internet.fr/le-duel/" target="_blank">Nothing like violent Frenchmen</a>.<br /><br />Thanks to <a href="http://www.devfish.net/FullBlogItemView.aspx?BlogId=424" target="_blank">Joe Healy</a> for the link.pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-73685965270150509292007-07-25T17:43:00.002-04:002007-07-25T17:53:26.691-04:00YouDebate 2008Did 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:<br /><br />“<em>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.<br />But is African-Americans ever going to get reparations for slavery?<br />I know you all are going to run around this question, dipping and dodging, so let's see how far you all can get.</em>”<br /><br />and:<br /><br />“<em>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?</em>”<br /><br />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!)<br /><br />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!)<br /><br />Am I alone? Does <em>anyone</em> find this new format “groundbreaking,” “relative,” “engaging,” or “refreshing?” Or am I right in declaring that it's completely asinine?pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-36231107301264348652007-07-19T11:15:00.001-04:002007-07-25T17:51:01.701-04:00guess the irrational fear<em>“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.”<br /><br />“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.”<br /><br />“They disgust me and make me feel dirty and unloved.”<br /><br />“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.”<br /><br />“I am now 40, have had my phobia since I can remember. I hate the word, I hate the things, they are just gross!”<br /><br />“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.”<br /><br />“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.”<br /><br />“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.”<br /></em><br />That last one should give you a clue. Or maybe this will help:<br /><br /><em>“The big 'four holers' are the worst & especially detached ones.”</em><br /><br />If you haven’t guessed, all these people are talking about buttons, and I got their quotes <a href="http://www.unusualphobias.com/buttons" target="_blank">here</a>. I couldn’t believe this was a real phobia, but then I found <a href="http://www.avonhypnotherapy.co.uk/buttonphobia.htm" target="_blank">Avon Hypnotherapy</a>, a company that offers treatment for this ridiculous fear. Wow.<br /><br />(If you’re a closet button hater, then I apologize if I’ve disgusted or frightened you with this post. But seriously, buttons?)pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-20630716924295982802007-07-18T14:32:00.001-04:002007-07-19T11:34:18.776-04:00my dead body is worth a used hyundai.<a style="DISPLAY: block; FONT-SIZE: 24px; BACKGROUND: url(http://mingle2.com/img/bb/body_worth/badge.jpg) no-repeat; WIDTH: 395px; COLOR: #fff; PADDING-TOP: 121px; FONT-FAMILY: Arial, sans-serif; HEIGHT: 184px; TEXT-ALIGN: center; TEXT-DECORATION: none" href="http://mingle2.com/cadaver-calculator"><strong style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal">$4440.00</strong><span style="DISPLAY: none">The Cadaver Calculator - Find out how much your body is worth. From Mingle2 - Free Online Dating</span></a>pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-16761839373102861742007-07-18T11:47:00.001-04:002007-07-18T11:53:25.085-04:00Iraqi-town, New MexicoWe 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 <em>true</em> 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!<br /><br />Well, as I found in <a href="http://abcnews.go.com/International/wireStory?id=3388625" target="_blank">this article</a>, 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />On a lighter note, <a href="http://blogs.abcnews.com/theblotter/2007/07/fbi-iraqis-bein.html" target="_blank">the FBI has released a report</a> 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!<br /><br />Of course you realize that we <em>need</em> these guys to come over here and <a href="http://thebiologian.blogspot.com/2007/06/angry-american.html" target="_blank">do jobs that Americans won’t do</a>, e.g. fly planes into buildings, car bomb cafés, suicide bomb schools…pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-3786601870145212492007-07-17T18:09:00.000-04:002007-07-17T18:24:51.047-04:00“Always read stuff that will…”<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN3-SZFpCKEUPN7KK_sgmenQaasS7phhMU2u-paT4j5UicL5zCJ6wyvAoLuMed2LiIKV1xTXFubJ9rJPV6Ac0C-GGG8y9K1uAXIvtTuepjppANTVlPRarii4cYDogIyCADzPlhUvxRplY/s1600-h/ist2_3074179_tired_student.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088294889738236274" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN3-SZFpCKEUPN7KK_sgmenQaasS7phhMU2u-paT4j5UicL5zCJ6wyvAoLuMed2LiIKV1xTXFubJ9rJPV6Ac0C-GGG8y9K1uAXIvtTuepjppANTVlPRarii4cYDogIyCADzPlhUvxRplY/s200/ist2_3074179_tired_student.jpg" border="0" /></a>"…make you look good if you die in the middle of it.”<br />–P.J. O’Rourke<br /><br />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: <em>Principles of Manipulation</em>. 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: <em>Principles of Gene Manipulation</em>.<br /><br />Those silly biologists and their gene manipulation!</div>pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-57044290398668512112007-07-17T13:12:00.000-04:002007-07-17T13:23:11.133-04:00title justificationI 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.<br /><br />On to our topic…<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075164312203347623.post-74894755971558721792007-07-13T12:27:00.000-04:002007-07-15T13:05:54.479-04:00did you know...Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.<br />Chuck Norris' pulse is measured on the Richter scale.<br />Chuck Norris does not get frost bite. Chuck Norris bites frost.<br />Kryptonite has been found to contain trace elements of Chuck Norris roundhouse kicks to the face.<br />Chuck Norris can blow bubbles with beef jerky.<br />When Chuck Norris falls in water, Chuck Norris doesn't get wet. Water gets Chuck Norris.<br />Chuck Norris can divide by zero.<br />There is no such thing as global warming. Chuck Norris got cold so he turned the sun up.<br />Chuck Norris always knows the EXACT location of Carmen Sandiego.<br />Chuck Norris has counted to infinity. Twice.<br />When taking the SAT, write "Chuck Norris" for every answer. You will score over 8000.<br />Chuck Norris invented the Cesarean section when he roundhouse kicked his way out of his mother's womb.<br />Chuck Norris once ate an entire bottle of sleeping pills. They made him blink.<br />What was going through the minds of all of Chuck Norris' victims before they died? His foot.<br />Guns don't kill people. Chuck Norris kills people.<br />Chuck Norris sleeps with a pillow under his gun.<br />Jean-Claude Van Damme once beat up Chuck Norris. He was then awakened from his dream by a roundhouse kick to the face.<br />Chuck Norris had to stop swimming in the ocean. The tsunamis were killing people.<br />And finally...<br />Superman wears Chuck Norris pajamas.pellishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00415850336759131071noreply@blogger.com1