Shoveling Smoke

Addendum

2007-02-14T21:18:00.000-06:00

I realized I'd forgotten to post something else that is somewhat momentous.

My wife and I have actually been able to accumulate the equivalent of six months' salary.

That probably doesn't sound like a big deal to most people, but it'll be the first time in a long time that a minor emergency won't set us back for weeks on end, playing catch up.

It's in an Orange savings account, earning 4.5% interest, so that's pretty cool.

I'm not the biggest fan of money in general, but it helps you sleep at night knowing that you could live for six months without a job.

JAG

2007-02-14T21:14:00.000-06:00

I found out that I was accepted into the Army JAG Summer Internship program. I'll be working for 10 weeks at Fort Bragg, North Carolina.

Shocked, I suppose, is a good word to describe how I feel. They only pick 75 law students a year to do this. When they sent me the email, I saw the email addresses of the other 75. Most were from big time schools, such as Harvard, Yale, and Stanford. Truly out of my league.

I'm fairly sure that the Dean of my law school was quite dispositive in the outcome. He was once a high-ranking JAG officer, and graciously agreed to write me a recommendation letter.

So that's the news from my corner. I'll post more as it arises.

Parable

2007-02-01T22:03:00.000-06:00

One day there was a man who lived in a tiny village. As a child, he heard stories of a magical beast, that if caught, would grant him every wish. All of the adults in his village had hunted for this beast for as long as anyone could remember. Most never came close, others caught a brief glimpse, and the lucky few actually claimed to have found him.

Now that he was grown, the man set off to find the beast for himself. He wandered across the fields, crossed rivers, camped out at night, and climbed mountains. All the while, his thoughts focused on the beast. He must find it. He grew more and more tired, and eventually he grew old.

At the very end, he sat down in the meadow, and cried into his tired and wrinkled hands. Then, the beast appeared. It was beautiful, with green fur and gold claws and diamonds for eyes. It sat down next to the man, and said:

You have finally found me, old man. You never gave up. It is unfortunate that it came so late. What is your wish?

"I want to be rich," said the man.

"And why is that?"

"So I won't have to worry."

"Ah. And what has worried you?"

"I've always been obsessed with finding you- now that you are here, I can rest."

"So you worried about finding me so you wouldn't have to worry?"

The man didn't have an answer for that, so the beast continued.

"It happens every time. People are so obsessed with me that they can't see the glory of the mountains they've climbed, or the beauty of the rivers they've crossed. There's no time to rest or stare at the night sky and simply breathe. No chance to pick a few flowers or admire the deer as they graze. They hope to find me, in the hopes of becoming happy. Yet everyday they passed happiness by- in the trees, their family, and the birds in the air."

"I'm so tired," the man said, "I just want to sleep."

The beast crouched over him and closed the man's eyes.

"As you wish."

Untitled

2007-02-01T21:16:00.000-06:00

I haven't been posting because there's really not been much to post. I'm at the point where I threaten repetition with every word I type- ominously close to that point where a sitcom has run out of steam and carries on for a few more seasons before shutting down.

I'm officially the Blog world version of Nick at Nite.

I did come to a mini-epiphany a few weeks ago. I think people are drawn to the idea of celebrity not because we think we'll ever get famous, but knowing there are people whose lives are dictated solely by their desires gives us comfort. Getting up early to slay the beast that is life day after day gets tiresome. It helps to know that someone, somewhere, is sleeping in. At least we've got that.

Here's the thing- every so often I see a guy standing on the street corner, asking for spare change. Usually there's either an explicit or implicit sob story to boot. I wonder what would happen if I sat there with a sign that read, "I'm simply tired of working." I think a lot of people would identify with that, and probably appreciate the honesty to boot. I'd give that guy a dollar.

Somehow our society has driven us into an individualistic mentality that strives to get everything and share nothing. And as a result, we all must struggle harder to get the things we need. Somewhat ironic, no?

Look at ants. Simple, common ants. They're smart enough to know that they have to stick together to survive. They work to build a common shelter. They're smart enough to realize that it's easier to build one giant house than one million tiny ones. If one finds food, he tells the others, and then brings some back to the rest of the community. If we were to find a bunch of money in the woods, who would tell the community? No one, would be my guess.

Why? Because we think that if someone else were to find the money, they wouldn't share it either. So we take what we can get our hands on, because that's what the next guy would do. So we don't trust each other because we don't trust each other. Get it? And we each stubbornly roll our own rock up the hill, and kill ourselves in the process. A very lucky few get their rock to the top, and it feeds the illusion that it's normal to achieve success alone. Meanwhile, the mass of men struggle to get a decent grip. And our pride refuses to ask for help, and our neighbor's recalcitrance hinders him from offering- even though he needs some help too.

This is only a country by name. Sure, every time there's a tragedy we run up a few flags on a pole and sing some old songs, but we don't really give a damn. Our country runs to our property line, and stops there. Our only real allegiance is to ourselves, and the little fiefdom we happen to occupy. We can't be bothered with helping others, because there's always someone whose rock is a little bit higher than our own.

Perhaps one day we'll realize that maybe the point of life isn't pushing rocks up hills. That we shouldn't have to work for half our lives to afford a box to live in. That if we built things closer together, our own two legs would serve us well. That we've set up a world where we are forced to adapt to technology, instead of the other way around. That if we made a dog do something it didn't want to do for eight hours a day we'd be looked at with disgust; yet millions of us do it everyday, despite our inherent nobility. That there are far better targets than green pieces of paper to shoot for. That our greatest treasures lie far within us, and not on Amazon.com.

Perhaps- but I doubt it.

Summary

2006-12-20T23:54:00.000-06:00

The root canal went well- I felt almost nothing the whole time. Apparently when I bit down, a piece of my tooth broke off and pushed into the pulp, which explained the agonizing pain. Oh well, now all I have to do is get a crown put on and all should be well.

My wife's strange back pain seems to be gone, so that's good. Maybe she's turned a corner. She's had an awful lot of bad luck lately.

A few grades are in. I made a C+ in Business Associations, which is actually a good thing in my book. Due to my stupidity, I had to write the exam, as I had left my power cord at the hospital with my wife. Also, the subject matter didn't exactly mesh with my interests- it's a nice enough topic, but I'm really not going to be a corporate attorney. So I'm not too concerned. Also, with the possibility of a C or D+ seemingly all to possible, a C+ is sweet relief indeed.

In brighter news, I made an A in Electronic Research Seminar. I enjoyed that class- it was interesting, and I managed to learn a few things along the way.

Constitutional Law, Appellate Advocacy, and Evidence are still outstanding. I had a B+ on the Evidence midterm, so I'm optimistic about the eventual outcome. Con Law is probably a B, I would assume. Appellate Advocacy is anybody's guess.

I hope to have some fairly big news I can post on this blog eventually, but I've decided that silence is the better part of discretion at this juncture. There's too much about it I don't know at this point to comfortably share, and I don't want to jinx it.

Pain

2006-12-14T21:21:00.000-06:00

My wife got out of the hospital two days ago, and seems to be doing fine. They're not sure if it's a kidney stone or a kidney infection, so they told her to drink a lot of water and take some antibiotics. Seems to be working.

In other (pain-related) news, today I was at work and decided to go get a Subway Sandwich. After a few bites, I felt excruciating pain. Bad pain. As in who do I have to kill to make this pain go away. Other bad news: it was Thursday, so I was practically broke. (I am a student, you know.) I drove to where my Mom works, scared her half to death, and she called my Dad, who drove me to the dentist. Regardless of the money issue, I'm pretty sure it was a good thing they drove, because I was losing it. My face had drained of all its color, and the constant pain was spreading across the left side of my face.

I have bruxism, which means I grind my teeth at night. I'm supposed to wear a mouthguard at night, but I get careless. Which wreaks havoc on my teeth. You can bet I won't be making that mistake again.

I got to the dentist, and apparently I need a root canal. So I set up an appointment for Tuesday. In the meantime, the dentist (my new best friend) gave me some Novacaine shots and a prescription for Hydrocodone. Which is also known as Vicodin, like the stuff Dr. House takes. I've only got twelve, so the risk of addiction is almost nil, but I can see why he likes them. What was a brain-shattering pain is now only barely perceptible. I guess that's what opiates will do for you.

Here's hoping that eventually my luck will turn. For now, the pain medication is at least pushing it back.

Static

2006-12-12T21:08:00.000-06:00

Today I took my last exam. I would really like to post something clever that explained how drained I was right now, but my brain is busted. You can use fancy words to describe it, sure, but "busted" just about captures it. It's like I'm on auto-pilot.

Last night my wife had to go to the emergency room, so I stayed with her until about 11:00. (Her father stayed with her after that.) I'd never seen her, or anyone else for that matter, endure that much pain. At one point she almost fainted. Her voice would catch when the pain was at its worst and she would just freeze in a state of pure hell. It was a horrible experience.

The doctors aren't quite sure what's wrong- it's either a kidney stone or an infection of some sort. If it's a stone, it's small enough to pass. If it's an infection, they gave her some antibiotics. So she basically has a lot of pain pills and a few days bed rest.

Needless to say, my mind wasn't exactly on my exam. It helps, if anything, to put life in perspective. We worry so much about things that don't mean much of nothing at all, when placed against the big picture. We live, then we die. If we get a few years, and don't suffer for most of them, we're pretty damned lucky.

Pretty lucky indeed.

If none of the above makes sense: remember, auto-pilot.

Winter

2006-12-07T23:33:00.000-06:00

The weather as it hits the landscape is an unfinished pencil sketch, faint and muted with smudges of cold brushing across the canvas of my skin. It is early morning, but still too light for color. Everything is gray- burnished silvers and fresh charcoals show themselves before the sun's ascent dulls and chars the view, relegating the world to equal light.

I stop and look for landmarks. I'm familiar with the area, but it's been ages since I was here, and much has changed. Nature, in her way, has commenced reclaiming the land. The gas station on the corner, where owners in new tweed suits used to ply their Oldsmobile with leaded fuel, is now a tribute to the color brown- withered kudzu and old rust. Looking at it, one doesn't know whether to feel remorse or relief- so one is left with nothing, as I am now.

I'm not far from my destination. Around the next corner and behind the old brick church is a graveyard. At least, there was. A large part of me wants to find out what havoc time has wreaked.

I continue down the gravel road, the muffled sound of my feet hitting the icy rocks the only audible proof of my existence. The tips of my fingers grow painful from the cold; I shove them into my coat pockets.

I try to picture the cemetery in my head as I walk, partially out of curiosity, but also to ward off the mental effects of the cold. I see worn concrete and bent iron fences, their spires either missing or lacking the glory they once had. For their glory is cumulative- the effect of cemetery fences with missing spires is wholly unimpressive, for it is the unbroken line of spires pointing skyward that catches grandeur. Once disturbed- either through vandals or the rise of Nature- one is left with an oddity that arouses suspicion, but not interest.

The graves, however, are different. As they are merely symbolic edifices, their importance is not tethered to any measure of material integrity. A cracked tombstone is still a tombstone; a tombstone washed away by a flood and buried in the bed of a mighty river is still a tombstone. One could borrow Thor's hammer and smash a tombstone into millions of atoms, and those atoms would still be tombstones. Thus, by that logic (or rule of natural law), those things that change the materiality of the marker only increase the interest, and do nothing to detract.

I have no interest in new grave markers- they are but poor symbols for the corpse beneath. One could argue that they are made to represent the person's soul, but I think that proves too much. The soul, if it exists, needs no symbol- surely our poor flesh didn't serve the purpose while we were living. Instead, they mark the spot where bodies were laid to rest or rot, depending on your particular view. (As I walk, it grows so cold that I wonder whether or not I'll freeze to death. Hypothermia doesn't particularly care about my point of view. So many things supersede and supplant our opinions with their power of actuality and truth, I someimes wonder why I believe anything at all.) Either way, they mark the spot where the horses, tired and breathing with sweat and verve, stopped the carriage. The place where the casket was lowered and a few words said. That's it. And just like we did, they fall apart over time. It is disturbing if viewed at from one angle, but profoundly enlightening if looked at from another. This is true of both the tombstone and the vision.

In my time, I've seen some wonderfully altered gravesites. Most being this old are at least cracked. Water, freezing and thawing and freezing again, works its way into any crevice and causes the sturdiest concrete into fits. Occasionally, the whole top half lops off, and the name of the deceased presses into the earth. Once, I saw a grave that was partially engulfed by a nearby tree tunk- a perfect vision of Nature subsuming not only the flesh, but also its symbol.

I've reached the place now. From where I stand, I can see a portion of the cemetery fence emerging from the dying kudzu. The uniform spires cast a staccato shadow over a perfectly upright grave, its eminence shining in the newly wrought light of the sun.

I sigh, and turn to go. It's so damn cold, after all.

Update

2006-12-07T23:26:00.000-06:00

Sorry about the long absence, but the past week has been brutal.

Two exams in two days. Had a birthday the day before those. I'm now twenty-seven. Which is still young, granted, but it's closer to thirty-five than eighteen. That's a bit scary.

Felt like I did okay on the exams- one more to go on Tuesday, then I'm off for a while.

Numerals

2006-12-01T22:43:00.000-06:00

As a general rule, I don't have great ideas. I'll lounge in my chair, a half-baked idea will loll around in my head, and I'll grow terribly excited. Then someone possessing common sense will shoot it down for reasons I should have anticipated. It's fairly depressing.

I've thought this one through more than most, and I haven't found any real chinks yet. So tell me why it won't work- I promise, you won't hurt my feelings.

I was watching a credit card commercial the other day, and a fancy card splashed across the screen. The embossed and raised credit card number gleamed like a new Cadillac. And I thought to myself- what's the point of putting the credit card number on the card itself? I remember back when stores used the old systems where they would make an embossment of the card, but I haven't see any of those around in years. Most people that take credit nowadays are sophistacated enough to have the ubiquitous card readers that someone made millions designing. And those machines don't care if you slide through a bus ticket stub- as long as it has a magnetic strip on the back that contains a card number.

So why the numbers where people can find them if they have steal your wallet? Without the number on the card itself, people wouldn't be able to go nuts on one of the gazillion Internet websites that just require the basic credit card information. It would save both the consumers and credit card companies insane amounts of money. And it's simple.

The only weakness I've been able to figure out is that people would have to carry their credit card number around perhaps, if they do a lot of Internet shopping away from home. But I just don't think that's a terribly large number of people. And needing two separate items in order to carry out identity theft helps to thwart the activity. At the very least, having the numbers taken off the front should be an option for the savvy consumer. (You could make the argument that anyone using a credit card isn't terribly savvy, but that's a whole other post.)

Some credit card companies have a small picture of yourself in the corner, but the thief with a stolen credit card doesn't use it at the grocery store. So the picture doesn't help.

So tell me, what's the practical purpose of having embossed and shiny numbers on the face of credit cards? Is it an example of not changing based on outdated industry standards or does it serve a purpose I'm just not seeing?

Done

2006-11-27T23:48:00.000-06:00

Spent the last few hours putting a 15-page paper to bed. Still have some tweaking to do, but the story's been read, the lights are out, and the Boogeyman has been chased from the closet. 91 footnotes of fury, she is. Put together with the finesse of a Faberge egg and the strength of a Sherman tank. At least, I like to think so.

Of course, somehow that means I'll end up barely passing. Happens every time.

Also, my brain is tired, so consider this the final synapses of an exhausted mind.

Must. Stop. Thinking.

Good night.

Respite

2006-11-26T22:25:00.000-06:00

Spent a lot of the Thanksgiving Break doing absolutely nothing. Consider this post to be a smorgasboard of leftovers- the Internet equivalent of a cold turkey sandwich, if you will.

Played some disc golf with my wife on Saturday- which was fun, until I threw my disc into a water hazard. Note: discs tend to sink in water.

I've noticed that a lot of stores are utilizing Santa in their commercials. Which is fine and all, but that all seem to denigrate Old Saint Nick's role in some way. One has him buying a diamond ring- if you even buy into the Santa mythology, wouldn't his elves make him one? Another has him coming home early, because apparently some store has taken his place. I don't know about you, but replacing Santa with a corporate entity doesn't exactly place warm fuzzies in the heart. Finally, another one has everyone oohing and aahing over the latest phones, while Santa's line at the mall sits empty. That one is just sad. Don't kids want ponies anymore? Or at least, want to believe in something bigger than themselves? Sigh. But I guess the phones play music, so all is forgiven. Grrr.

My father-in-law retired Saturday after working at the same place for 21 years. My wife and I bought him a bottle of Wild Turkey Rare Breed to celebrate the occasion. At the liquor store, the cashier asked if it would be credit or debit when we handed over the card. Note: if you use credit to buy alchohol, you might have a problem. Note #2: Has anyone else noticed how the person selling the liquor seems to know way too much about the product he's selling?

Apparently everyone went out and bought everything this weekend. Partially because the commercial culture has so brainwashed the masses to trigger buying after Thanksgiving, a non-Pavlovian response is no longer possible. I wonder if such was the case in the 1920s? Or the 50s? Or did corporate America simply create it out of thin air? Something tells me that Christmas used to be just a one-day event, instead of the month-long financial orgasm it has become. Sigh once more.

I really want to try to make some acorn bread. Apparently if you leech out the tannic acid, the things are pretty tasty. There's an oak tree in front of a courthouse near where I work that has cartoon acorns. They're almost too perfect. Like Disney animators penciled them in.

I've got semester exams coming up soon, and a small paper due Tuesday. I've laid the groundwork for the paper, but haven't really begun studying in earnest yet for exams. Luckily, 5.5 of my 15 hours this semester are pretty much already wrapped up, so they shouldn't weigh as much. Also, I get almost a week off to study for my final one, which should be the hardest.

Well, that's life from my neck of the woods. I'll attempt to post more regularly, now that my life resumes its normal schedule. Thanks for all the comments everybody- I'll respond to each in the next few days.

Exposition

2006-11-20T21:44:00.000-06:00

I'm always fascinated with where TV producers decide to place their series. So much of a series' storyline generally revolves around the exposition; as a result, the decision can help determine the success rate of a series. Below I've listed the 50 states and coupled the ones I could think of off the top of my head with a TV show that was (predominately) located within its borders. Feel free to help me complete the list.

AL: Any Day Now
AK: Northern Exposure
AZ: ______________
AR: ______________
CA: Full House, C-H-I-P-S?
CO: South Park
CT: Judging Amy, Who's the Boss?
DC: West Wing
DE: ______________
FL: CSI: Miami; Miami Vice
GA: Designing Women
HI: Hawaii 5-0
ID: ______________
IL: Family Matters, Chicago Hope
IN: Close to Home
IA: ______________
KS: Jericho, Smallville
KY: Dukes of Hazzard
LA: ______________
ME: Murder, She Wrote
MD: Homicide: Life on the Street
MA: Cheers, Boston Legal
MI: Home Improvement
MN: Coach
MS: In the Heat of the Night
MO: The John Laroquette Show
MT: _____________
NE: _____________
NV: CSI, Las Vegas
NH: _____________
NJ: The Sopranos
NM: Roswell
NY: Everybody Loves Raymond, CSI: NY
NC: The Andy Griffith Show
ND: ______________
OH: Drew Carey Show, WKRP Cincinnati
OK: ______________
OR: ______________
PA: The Class, The Office
RI: Providence, Family Guy
SC: _______________
SD: _______________
TN: Petticoat Junction
TX: Friday Night Lights
UT: Big Love
VT: NewHart
VA: A Different World, Alias, The Waltons
WA: Frasier, Grey's Anatomy
WV: Hawkins
WI: That 70's Show
WY: _______________

Was Dukes of Hazzard in Kentucky or West Virginia? Is there a real difference between the two? (Just kidding, Fish.) In what state was NewHart set? Zuska, you work around D.C., right? Try to fill in some of the mid-Atlantic gaps. Hey Brian, you're about to take the Alabama bar. At some point in television history, a show had to be set in Tuscaloosa or Birmingham. Where's Hillman College at from A Different World? And don't worry, Lisa Hutch, I'm well aware of the fact that most of our shows are actually filmed in Vancouver.

EDIT: Thanks to Fish and Brian, we've managed to expand the list. Only 17 out of 50 states remain. I'll pick up the search... keep sending in your comments!

EDIT REDUX: Added Alabama and West Virginia, thanks to some recent tips. Only 15 states left!

Love

2006-11-17T23:19:00.000-06:00

I met my wife while working at a daycare during the summer- I was charged with keeping the afterschoolers entertained, and she watched over the nursery.

Over the few months we worked together, we started spending more and more time together at work- finding reasons to bump into each other in the hall, etc.

To make a long story somewhat short, one Friday night I received a call from my sister, telling me that my (future) wife wanted to meet me at the daycare.

It was there- amongst the plastic playground equipment with safety-rounded edges, that we fell in love. We talked for hours, and when we eventually kissed, the words "I love you," fell abruptly and unceremoniously from my mouth. It was one of the few times in my Asperger-ridden life that the filter was ripped clean off its hinges, and the words sprung clean and unadulterated from my lips.

I waited in sheer terror for what seemed like an eternity (but must what have been half a second) until she said she loved me too.

And that was it. No streamers, no gondola in Venice or Eiffel Tower in Paris- but it was love.

Later, when I have children, I suppose they'll ask me how they know they're in love.

I'll tell them that the surest sign of love occurs after that magical moment. It happens every time you take the smallest amount of time to stare into their eyes- at that moment, you're transported back in time, to when it all began. All the hard weeks and tribulations you've faced melt like snow, and love emerges unscathed and ready to battle the harships of life.

So it is with me and my wife. With our schedules, it is sometimes difficult to spend quality time with one another. Reconnecting takes a modicum of effort, but sometimes even that's too much to give. Yet, when we do spend time together- on a date, walking a nature trail, etc.- we quickly become too bumbling kids without a care in the world.

Sounds small, but that's the difference between a happy marriage and divorce. Those who divorce either can't or won't find a way to renew the connection. For those truly in love, the connection is so easy to recreate (and bolster) that divorce is inconceivable. If one of us ever filed papers, we'd fall in love all over again while arguing over who gets what.

Here's hoping my readers have that kind of love for somebody- there's nothing on earth like it. I would liken it to a paradise. Mine is covered with autumn leaves and playground swings, and I visit it every time I look into my wife's eyes.

You can keep Paris.

Morality

2006-11-14T20:48:00.000-06:00

I was perusing my weekly copy of Time magazine a few days ago, and I found an interesting debate concerning evolution versus creationism. The main point on the creation side was somewhat intriguing- the fellow asked how morality could be quantified without the inherent admission that a Creator was responsible for our existence?

I did a quick look on dictionary.com and found three different definitions for morality. All had to do with a subjective slant on standards, and one even used the phrase "good and evil," which I thought to be a bit much.

But here's the point- if there is no supreme arbiter who sets the standards for moral conduct, who are we to say what is moral or immoral? Why is saving someone's life better than drowning a puppy? I think most would answer "because the majority says it is," but I don't find that to be a satisfactory answer. Several periods throughout history (Salem Witch Trials, Nazi Germany, etc.) prove that society can rapidly devolve into chaos. If the entire world decided "to hell with it," would that be the new morality? I hope that what is "good" and "evil" is not subject to the vagaries of public sentiment. I would also hope that causing others to suffer simply to derive pleasure from that suffering would never be a good thing.

Evolutionists suggest that basic morality exists because we've realized it's necessary in order to form an efficient society- which in turn, benefits the individual. Thus, morality hinges on a sense of reason and the capacity for higher intelligence. The Neanderthal who was mean to everyone probably didn't get to share in the harvest when his crops failed, thus we've evolved to share resources.

I don't disagree with that, but I find it troubling. Because if one accepts that logic, it becomes clear that all morality is essentially based on selfish desires. We give to the homeless so our stature will be increased in society. We obey traffic laws so our record will be clean, not to protect other drivers. We're nice to others not to be nice, but so they might be nice to us later.

What this theory fails to take into consideration is the fact that humans are capable of truly selfless acts. The soldier who falls on a grenade to save his comrades isn't thinking self-preservation; he's thinking of helping others. Some people pick up litter, even when no one's watching. Those examples don't appear to be based on evolutionary principles. They are simply good deeds, one which a pure evolutionary approach can't seem to explain away.

For the record, I find much of evolution appealing- natural selection makes a ton of sense. The slow squirrel gets eaten and the fast squirrel gets to make fast squirrel babies. No argument there. Not to mention the fact that I think there are several possible ways to enjoin the debate by combining the two theories. So please don't take this as a slam on evolution, but more as a representation of my internal thought patterns on this complicated topic.

Beta

2006-11-14T20:02:00.000-06:00

I recently was invited to switch to Blogger Beta. By "invited," I mean prompted when I attempted to log in. I'm not sure if it was a consensual decision, however, because the prompt made it clear that the goons were lurking in the background.

It seems to be about the same program, only I've noticed the return of the NavBar. I'm debating whether or not to keep it (if I can even find out how to make it disappear) but thankfully I figured out how to lower my Blog title with the "break" tag.

Another detriment is that I can't comment on non-Beta blogs. They promise it's coming soon, however. Which I don't doubt. Because it's obvious that this Beta business is their new venture. In time, all blogs will become Beta-blogs. How do I know that? Because Google is involved.

I'm no business major, but I'm pretty sure that Google is the Internet equivalent of the Beatles. Or Elvis. If Google calls you up about a buy-out/partnership deal, you don't say no.

And while I don't dislike Google per se, I do feel a slight monopolistic caution, somewhere in the range of Microsoft and Wal-mart. Once a company- in any commercial endeavor- becomes too powerful, it's difficult for other companies to compete. And without competition, you have price-fixing and a lack of innovation.

Of course, the democratic and free-wheeling aspect of the Internet may make the analogy somewhat weak. At least, I hope so.

Marriage

2006-11-13T21:57:00.000-06:00

Today in my Constitutional Law class we discussed the issue of same-sex marriages.

I volunteered, mostly to avoid being cold called later, but also to espouse my opinions on the matter.

I believe that the State wrongly usurped the Church's power to perform marriage ceremonies somewhere in the far past. I think this was done because the State, fearing the Church's ability to regulate that aspect of society, wanted a piece of the authoritarian pie. Placing the realm of marriage under state control allowed the government to stick their noses even further into other people's business- which is what the government is best at, it appears.

That said, nobody really cared when this occurred, because nothing really changed. At least, they thought nothing changed. But beneath the surface, the entire process had become different- what had been an intensely spiritual and religious event became nothing more than an entry in the county court's register. Of course, for some, the old traditions still remained intact- but the omnipresent state hung around like an unwanted and uninvited guest, knowing full well that his recognition of the marriage was needed in order for it to take full legal effect.

Regardless of whether or not you're a religious person, imagine what a marriage means to the followers of religion. They're making a vow before their beloved and (what they believe, at least) a higher power. Is that really something that can be enforced/ratified by a state power? I daresay not. To borrow a phrase from Lincoln, the state's "poor power to add or detract" renders the exercise moot. It's like the FAA giving a meteor permission to land, or NOAA sanctioning a tornado for excessive violence.

Regardless, for hundreds of years, this link between the sacramental world of religion and the secular world of government persisted. No one cared until people of the same sex began trying to get married. There became two choices: (a) ban same-sex marriages and uphold the religious foundation of marriage, or (b) allow same-sex marriage and uphold the right of consenting adults to ratify their very personal decisions. Both choices mostly sucked, because choosing one meant subverting either (a) a most hallowed religious and cultural tradition, or (b) destroying a fundamental right to freedom.

The madness will only stop when the government realizes that it has no legal right, nor moral authority, to "marry" its citizens, regardless of sexual orientation. Those of faith can get married in a church, and the rest of the populace can get "unionized," "merged," or have their life contracts notarized by the Judge of Social Partner Coalescence. People could enter five-year renewable contracts, contingent on both individuals marching down to the courthouse to re-sign the papers. Of course, those who want to can do both- if the church (assuming the state action would be almost automatic, like getting a car tag) will allow it.

One last note to ease those zealots who lose sleep at night over the fact that Tom and Tim might get married, and then I'll put the reins to this ranting and wild horse. The name of the union is immaterial, even if it's called a "marriage." Those who lack the right to deem something cannot change that fact by merely invoking the words. We are not magic. No matter how hard I say it, I simply cannot change water to fire by calling it fire.

Marriages- true marriages- only take place in a religious structure and/or with a religious leader of some type present. At the very least, there is a mention of some sort of Deity, and a pledge of love that goes far beyond any legally recognized stardard of care. Of course, its terms (in a contract sense) would be considered unconscionable. The act isn't legally recognizable, and was never meant to be as such.

Politics

2006-11-09T22:18:00.000-06:00

Although the frenetic pace of the Internet renders all news over 24 hours old stale and ancient, I thought I would comment on the recent midterm elections.

As everyone with half a brain knows by now, the Democratic Party has recently gained control of Congress.

I tend to be apolitical on this blog, choosing instead to focus on the larger scheme of things than subjects as trivial as party politics. Instead, I thought I'd focus on the process itself, and some of the environmental factors relevant to that process.

Democracy is largely a good thing. People vote how they want, and the person with the most votes wins. It's certainly not a perfect system, but it's the best one we've got. Throw in the concept of checks and balances, and you've got a political system that's been fairly stable for the last two centuries.

Time has shown that political parties in the American system wax and wane with amazing regularity. The majority of them, when viewed through a historical lens, have failed. Thus, Americans have not only elected politicians from political parties; they have also determined the viability of the parties themselves.

I imagine the typical voter chooses the individual who most agrees with his or her viewpoints, i.e. notions on how society should be run. These viewpoints are necessarily grand notions, ranging the gamut of everything pertinent and germane to the organization of a free people. The list is practically endless- taxation, social security, public services, etc.

The inherent weakness in a two-party political process is that the average person makes their selection not by determining who is most like them, but instead by settling on the individual who is the least not like them. This is a sad, yet practical reality of our existence as a voter. All too often, the choice is one of weighing differences, instead of comparing commonalities.

This event arises due to the fact that the attempt to place the range of human philosophies into two distinct camps is patently absurd in its application; we are too varied to be so easily categorized, boxed and shelved. Yet we sacrifice our nobilities and personal preferences in the name of efficiency, predictability, and tradition.

Even more disheartening is the fact that recent elections illuminate the fact that the country is evenly split along party lines. Of course, consensus is not necessarily a sign of strength, nor truth. But the recent clear split in American politics illuminates a situation where either the American populace has reached a philosophical fork in the road, or one where the citizenry has settled in the middle, and are forced to choose a boat to either shore.

Imagine an individual who falls in the exact middle on every single political issue. Who is he to vote for? How should he vote? If he does not vote, his opinion is wasted. If he does vote, he skews his opinion. Is one better than the other? Of course, such a man hardly exists, but there are millions who fall so close to that line that any attempt to hazard a guess as to which side they fall would be a mere guess. The average American, it is safe to say, has little in common with either George Bush or Nancy Pelosi. Yet they are both in the highest echelons of governmental power; only a two-party system could produce such a result.

Our democracy is representative; its viability hinges on the existence of candidates who viably represent the electorate's views. Otherwise, we have government buildings full of straw men in suits.

There are safeguards, of course, but the parties in power have weakened their applicability. If there's anything Republicans and Democrats hate equally, it's a viable third-party candidate in a national election. Like a close-knit family, they spar and bicker with one another, but will rally to defeat outsiders. For an outsider threatens to destroy the very ring they compete in- the ring they've created. The news channels purport to carry out this fiction, focusing so much on the Republican v. Democratic contests that we lose sight of the fact that it's possible to have other competitors. We've been inculcated to instantly distrust "independent" candidates, even though our very republic was founded on the idea that we could support ourselves.

It appears as if the process has devolved into a tipsy coachmen- one that bumbles toward its eventual goal, as opposed to sprinting toward it. Republicans push one way, Democrats push another, and we end up somewhere in the middle. The process occurs again and again. We move thousands of miles, yet only travel an inch.

Regardless of your personal opinions regarding the midterms, I think the more fundamental (and far more interesting) question focuses on the actual democratic process as it exists today, and whether or not such a system can continue to work. I don't know the answer to that question, but that doesn't stop me from raising it.

Hiatus

2006-11-08T23:35:00.000-06:00

I'd made an unspoken promise to myself that I would post everyday on this blog.

Road to hell, and all that.

Mostly, though, I blame a law school project that shouldn't have taken this long. Considering it's pass/fail, I think we put way too much time in it- time that could have been better spent studying for exams or sleeping, for instance.

That said, it's done. We turn it in tomorrow. With more free time, perhaps I'll be able to explain my plans to fix my car (HINT: think clothespin) and how I drug myself to church for the first time in over a year.

I can practically hear everyone sitting on the edges of their seats.

Meaning

2006-11-06T09:05:00.000-06:00

Today in Evidence class, the first two words out of the professor's mouth were "Mr. My Last Name."

Spooky.

Here's the thing- we just finished up midterms last Wednesday. Am I to take this particular brand of happenstance as a sign that I did really well on the midterm, or that my understanding of the concept of hearsay reaches comically hideous proportions? Or, it just a fluke? A coincidence meant to pester me until the end of time?

At least I (mostly) knew the answer.

Denouement

2006-11-05T23:37:00.000-06:00

After I turn in another pesky project tomorrow, there shouldn't be much left until exams. First semester of second year was a doozy; they threw a lot of stuff at us. Appellate Advocacy sucked up gobs and gobs of time; small projects here and there kept us off-balance; the Evidence midterm wasted a full day.

Wait- I just remembered I have a paper due in Electronic Research Seminar soon.

Oh well. I do know this, though- I'm looking forward to Christmas Break.

Weekend

2006-11-03T15:50:00.000-06:00

I love this part of the week- right before work ends on Friday afternoon, knowing that you have the next two days to do pretty much nothing.

It's almost better than the weekend itself.

Almost.

Panic

2006-11-02T23:22:00.000-06:00

I believe that in no circumstance does it make sense to panic. Most people panic because they believe, at least subconsciously, that to do so will make the situation better. They resort to their animalistic instincts, and throw all reason and imagination out the window. Which, in turn, makes the situation worse. Which creates more panic. For examples, just look the banking panic that caused the Great Depression or the Salem Witch Trials. History itself is replete with frenetic and unwarranted bouts of panic.

Regardless of an individual's beliefs concerning the origin of our species, most will agree that our greatest human strengths center around our ability to reason, imagine, and create. Sure, animals think, but to compare their cognitive processes with ours is to compare a paper airplane to a 747. Different ballparks, different leagues- different cities, even.

That said, when the moment of crisis is forced upon us, it makes sense to rely on our greatest strengths. It seems counterintuitive, but the best plan is to act with the demeanor of a man who is ordering a ham sandwich.

Of course, rational behavior does not necessarily mean static behavior. If it is rationally prudent, by all means run. But have an idea of where to run and what to do when you get there. Weigh the odds of success and plan your next move ahead of time. Don't simply scream and hope for the best.

In the horror movies, people almost always die because they panic. Of course, this makes for a good movie. Unfortunately, it's also a reason why many people die in real life. Panic reduces us to animals, and almost never benefits us in a situation.

The movie that best encapsulated this philosophy was The Bourne Supremacy. Even while being chased by the police, he calmly studied the floorplan while listening in on their conversation. He knew that information was more valuable than the precious seconds he would get from simply running. However, he only realized that because he stopped to think about the situation.

Imagine the chaos that would ensue if people did everyday things in panic mode. Calling a friend. Ordering a pizza. Driving around town. Performing surgery. If panic is not a good option for those activities, how can it be a good option when we face the larger tests?

Compass

2006-11-01T22:47:00.000-06:00

We desire things full of speed
Roaring in their might-
Yet the truth crawls on its hands and knees
Content to leave the fight.

Smaller and sophisticated
Gadgets please the eye-
Yet the truth is uneducated
And larger than the sky.

We desire fancy works of art
That sparkle in the light-
Yet truth is found within the heart
Throughout the darkest night.

To find these things most loathe to lose-
Trinkets of wealth and fame-
First set your compass on the Truth
Then turn the other way.

Thought

2006-10-31T22:46:00.000-06:00

The truest sign of maturity is realizing one has nothing to say. Conversely, the surest sign of youth is realizing that one has nothing to say, and then proceeding to prove it.

Halloween

2006-10-31T08:14:00.000-06:00

I'd always heard conflicting accounts of Halloween's origins, so I decided to do a little research on the matter. This account, from HistoryChannel.com, appears to be fairly solid.

"Halloween's origins date back to the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain (pronounced sow-in).

The Celts, who lived 2,000 years ago in the area that is now Ireland, the United Kingdom, and northern France, celebrated their new year on November 1. This day marked the end of summer and the harvest and the beginning of the dark, cold winter, a time of year that was often associated with human death. Celts believed that on the night before the new year, the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead became blurred. On the night of October 31, they celebrated Samhain, when it was believed that the ghosts of the dead returned to earth. In addition to causing trouble and damaging crops, Celts thought that the presence of the otherworldly spirits made it easier for the Druids, or Celtic priests, to make predictions about the future. For a people entirely dependent on the volatile natural world, these prophecies were an important source of comfort and direction during the long, dark winter.

To commemorate the event, Druids built huge sacred bonfires, where the people gathered to burn crops and animals as sacrifices to the Celtic deities.

During the celebration, the Celts wore costumes, typically consisting of animal heads and skins, and attempted to tell each other's fortunes. When the celebration was over, they re-lit their hearth fires, which they had extinguished earlier that evening, from the sacred bonfire to help protect them during the coming winter.

By A.D. 43, Romans had conquered the majority of Celtic territory. In the course of the four hundred years that they ruled the Celtic lands, two festivals of Roman origin were combined with the traditional Celtic celebration of Samhain.

The first was Feralia, a day in late October when the Romans traditionally commemorated the passing of the dead. The second was a day to honor Pomona, the Roman goddess of fruit and trees. The symbol of Pomona is the apple and the incorporation of this celebration into Samhain probably explains the tradition of "bobbing" for apples that is practiced today on Halloween.

By the 800s, the influence of Christianity had spread into Celtic lands. In the seventh century, Pope Boniface IV designated November 1 All Saints' Day, a time to honor saints and martyrs. It is widely believed today that the pope was attempting to replace the Celtic festival of the dead with a related, but church-sanctioned holiday. The celebration was also called All-hallows or All-hallowmas (from Middle English Alholowmesse meaning All Saints' Day) and the night before it, the night of Samhain, began to be called All-hallows Eve and, eventually, Halloween. Even later, in A.D. 1000, the church would make November 2 All Souls' Day, a day to honor the dead. It was celebrated similarly to Samhain, with big bonfires, parades, and dressing up in costumes as saints, angels, and devils. Together, the three celebrations, the eve of All Saints', All Saints', and All Souls', were called Hallowmas."

Dawn

2006-10-31T07:57:00.000-06:00

Woke up at 5:20 A.M. this morning and rode the bike. Had to wait until almost 5:45 to actually hit the road, however, because it was still too dark for comfort.

Dawn is a strange time of day. The light bounces off the clouds above, casting everything in an unearthly gloom. Also, there are almost no shadows- since the light comes from directly above, everything appears to be set in place with an eye toward a third grader's view of the world. There's little perspective, just muted greens and greys.

At times, I felt like I was riding through northern England, passing across the foggy moors in The Hound of the Baskervilles. I almost expected Holmes to question me about my unusual behavior, or be chased by the hideous fiend myself.

On the way back home, I was awarded by a burst of orange and salmon clouds breaking over the eastern sky.

Survival

2006-10-30T21:14:00.000-06:00

Apparently there's a new strain of the bird flu that's resistant to vaccines. It's still not able to pass from human to human, but it's apparently still evolving. Which is troublesome, to say the least.

Once a virus does gain the ability to transfer from human to human, it would probably trigger a worldwide pandemic. Borders would be closed off, of course, but in the world we live in people can travel so easily and quickly that it would probably be a futile effort.

Every year in this area, when we get a week-long ice storm, people panic and buy everything at the grocery stores. After Hurricane Katrina, gas was nigh impossible to find for about a solid week. I can't imagine the chaos that would ensue if a worldwide pandemic began. In truth, the pandemic wouldn't kill us- our asinine reaction to it would.

Granted, the chances of it happening are slim- probably less than 1%. But the consequences of what would happen if that event are triggered is so great and catastrophic that it warrants preparation. It could literally determine life and death.

(In torts, there's something called a cost/benefit analysis. You don't build glass two inches thick when the chance of someone breaking it is slim. The extra cost isn't worth the possible benefit. In this case, however, if the glass breaks (even though the chance is small) the shards could change the world.)

So, I'm going to start accumulating a survival kit, just in case something nasty- worldwide pandemic, terrorist attack, nuclear war- decides to pay a visit.

I'll start listing the items as I acquire them.

Awareness

2006-10-30T18:33:00.000-06:00

Scientists have recently released data which seems to suggest that elephants have passed the "mirror" test, meaning they have self-awareness. To the best of our knowledge, they join only the ranks of humans, chimpanzees, and -to some extent, at least- dolphins in that achievement. You can read the article here.

Most animals see their reflection and instantly think that the creature peering back at them is another animal. Which leads to the countless videos on "America's Funniest Home Videos" of the puppy barking at the mirror.

The test basically involves putting a mark on the creature which can only be seen by looking into a mirror. When the animal looks into the mirror, it touches the mark. The elephants went even farther- one of them peered into their mouth and another used its trunk to stretch out and peer inside its ear. None of the elephants displayed social behavior, which would seem to suggest that they knew the reflection wasn't another elephant.

I don't know why I find this stuff interesting, but I do. There's something mystical about the fact that an elephant realizes it's an elephant.

Scientists speculate that the self-awareness is what is responsible for the social complexity present among the pachyderms. It also helps explain their altruistic behavior and sense of uncanny empathy. Without a sense of self-identity, you cannot grasp the concept that others have a self-identity. And without that concept, there's no reason to care about the well-being of another living thing. Life is merely something to be survived.

Hmm. I wonder if our society could be responsible for the dilution of the personal identity? If somehow the omnipresent spectre of technology doesn't leech into our beings, until we're not sure where the soul ends and the LCD screen begins? And, as we all fall into the futuristic soup, we're hellbent on taking other people with us? Because if we feel like our life has no meaning, perhaps no one else's life does either?

Scope

2006-10-29T22:25:00.000-06:00

Today was a beautiful day. Just a hint of a breeze and the perfect temperature to throw on a T-shirt and shorts and go for a bike ride.

The weather had been surprisingly uncooperative this past week for biking, with the cold wind and rain. I'll ride in the rain- in the right situation it can be quite refreshing- but even I have my limits. I try to ride with an eye on the entire process- I don't want a ride to leave a bad taste in my mouth, as it might dissuade me from biking in the future. An individual brush stroke must be sacrificed, if it causes the overall painting to suffer.

Today, however, I knew I had to ride. The weather offered up no excuse. And although tempted, I was loathe to find one in my self.

I've grown accustomed to only using the lower gears. When I first began, I relied heavily on the first gear, the one where you pedal furiously and go very slowly. Of course, it's very easy to pedal. Now, I can complete my route almost entirely in third gear, which is tougher than it sounds. I move faster, but my legs make it appear like I'm plodding around. I imagine the cars that pass me must think I'm in awful shape, as most people equate pedalling furiously with speed.

Most importantly, I've lost weight. When I started, I tipped the scales at 204 pounds. Now, I'm around 190. That's a fourteen pound difference, which is even more impressive when the added muscle mass is taken into account.

I'm not generally one to toot my own horn. However, if one can't brag on their own blog, where can they brag?

Hearsay

2006-10-29T22:11:00.000-06:00

Tomorrow I take my Evidence Midterm. It's a "take home" test, which essentially means I'll be hunkered down in the library for seven hours working on it. It's sixty multiple choice questions. We're allowed to use outside sources, i.e. our textbooks, supplements, etc.

The problem is, understanding the concept of hearsay is like trying to nail down a Ziploc bag full of applesauce. The whole concept is incredibly amorphous.

A statement can be hearsay if used for one purpose, yet not hearsay if used for another.

A statement which is hearsay can be admitted, if it falls under an exception.

Hearsay within hearsay is admissible, if both items of hearsay fall within the exception.

Furthermore, it is sometimes arguable whether an act is itself an assertion. If it puports to show the truth, it's inadmissible. If it is merely an act, and has no assertive properties, it can be admitted. For example- does one use an umbrella to assert that it's raining, or merely to keep dry? Common sense seems to think the two are synonymous, but modern legal theory splits the issue with (seemingly) Solomonesque wisdom.

Lastly, often the hearsay rules exclude evidence which is highly reliable, yet doesn't conform with the rules. There doesn't seem to be an "equitable" exception to the hearsay rules, one where the judge can say, "Hearsay rules be damned, I'm admitting this."

Interestingly enough, the modern trend is quickly eroding the concept of hearsay. In other words, the exceptions are quickly engulfing the rule. Yet, just like the Rule of Perpetuities in Property, I have to learn it.

Twilight

2006-10-28T20:50:00.000-06:00

The things one learns while attempting to garner a little information is just astounding.

Since tonight is the night we set our clocks back, I was curious as to how this would effect my bike riding. It had been getting darker sooner, and with the upcoming change it appears it will be practically impossible to ride after work for a while. I have a headlight and a tail light, but I don't really feel comfortable riding at night. They're more useful for twilight and/or dusk type situations.

I found the times for sunrise and sunset here. Once you enter in the data, it gives you not only the above-mentioned times but also the beginning and ending times for "civil twilight." Of course, I fully realize that the moment the sun goes down all is not dark, but I'd never heard the term "civil twilight" before. So I did a little research.

On this page I got my answer. Civil twilight is the moment the center of the sun is six degrees below the horizantal plane of the horizon line. In layman's terms, it means that after that time, you probably need a flashlight. There's still some ambient light, but not much.

I'd never knew such things were so defined. There's also a nautical twilight, which is where you can still see silhouettes. Astronomical twilight begins when the ambient light reflecting off the upper atmosphere is imperceptible, apparently.

What this means is that I'll probably begin riding my bike in the mornings before school. Where I live, civil twilight begins at 5:50 a.m., which is plenty of time to go for a 45-minute bike ride and still make it in plenty of time for class. As winter moves on, however, the days grow shorter, so the calendar is going to quickly compress on itself.

Sigh. I never knew bike riding involved the study of celestial objects.

Politics

2006-10-27T07:59:00.000-06:00

With the local elections coming up on November 7th, my area has been hit with yet another flood- this one of election signs scattered about on every available patch of shoulder. The larger intersections have giant emblems announcing their candidate's wishes, set up on large wooden posts and lit at night. The smaller, more numberous ones stick in the ground on little metal legs and flap in the wind.

The part of Rankin County I live in has an open Supervisor position- which means everyone and anyone in my district is running for the position. I've counted at least six different candidates on my local bike rides- there's probably a few more. Needless to say, it's clear that whoever wins will keep the position until they grow feeble and/or die.

I'm not quite sure what a supervisor does, but I know they get an issued vehicle. Apparently one of their jobs is to drive on every road in their district during their elected term.

What I don't get is this- five or six people are running for the position, and yet not one candidate has stopped by, talked to us for a few minutes, and went on their way. This is a very small area- a candidate and a few volunteers could practically knock on every door in the space of a month.

Yet they don't, even though most people would be much more impressed by that than the effort it takes to have one thousand identical signs printed. Signs that give us no inclination of the man behind the well-designed advertisement.

I'm not voting, because my vote would be misinformed- similar to a lottery. I don't know who to vote for, or who not to vote for. I'd rather vote for the man I'd met, even if I didn't agree with his positions, if I could assure myself he was a candidate that intelligently reached those positions. Conversely, someone who agrees with me who is an idiot probably isn't a good pick. It truly is the measure of a man, at least as far as I'm concerned. I want someone who will do the job well, not someone who would do the job as I necessarily see fit.

But would be politicians simply see the problem of getting elected as something they can fix by throwing money at it- which is precisely why they make bad politicians once they're elected. We need candidates who will capture our respect- until then, the highway shoulders look like decimated theaters of war, as each candidate wages a furious attempt to decimate the landscape with their weapons of choice.

And the guy with the most signs will probably win.

Rain

2006-10-26T20:42:00.000-06:00

It's been raining a lot lately. The Pearl River is straining her banks. The chocolate brown waters swirl and gurgle as they churn slowly past.

She's roughly half a foot from the normal bank, at which point she'll start to spread out into a wide behemoth over the flood plain. It's an awesome sight.

There are several houses and cabins on stilts near the River where I live. I used to think it was because the River would flood occasionally, but that's only partly true. There's a large reservoir that's fed by the Pearl. It sits just north of Jackson. As is often true of large reservoirs, the houses near it are some of the nicest and most expensive ones in town. And since they're near the shoreline, it doesn't take much water before the leather sofa is floating in the living room.

How to fix the problem? Apparently, they open up the damn that holds the reservoir water. Which sends it rushing down the Pearl, covering everything remotely near it in a deluge. And since the structures south of the Pearl are worth far less, it's considered a good fix. (Way before Hurricane Katrina, the people of New Orleans did this, flooding several poor parishes to save their city.) The people who live south of the reservoir figured this out, and built with stilts.

I don't think it's going to happen this time, but I think about it every time the river rises. The houses are simple and bucolic, testaments to a time when shelter meant little more than a roof. And they are surely worth the attention of my fumbling brush and awkward pen.

Philosophy

2006-10-26T20:13:00.000-06:00

Carpe diem. Seize the day. People always say to live your life as if this day is your last. Enjoy the moment, because you don't know if you're getting another one.

That sounds good in theory, but it's not very practical.

What you would end up with is a lot of people quitting their jobs and running through the streets. They'd spend lots of time with loved ones (hopefully) and probably break several laws. A speeding ticket doesn't carry a lot of weight when death is imminent, after all.

Yet, regardless of the path they chose, for most (if not all) of them the clock would strike midnight. And guess what- no anti-Cinderalla would appear and turn them into pumpkins, or still their beating hearts. They'd wake up the next morning, with hangovers, no jobs, and a horrible driving record.

Perhaps the old saying has a different meaning- perhaps when we shuffle off this mortal coil we're meant to look back on our lives with pride. To know that everyday, we lived. Perhaps we didn't climb Mount Everest or win the Nobel Peace Prize, but we squeezed the little bits of glory and nobility from the hard rocks that litter this world, refusing to let our somewhat sordid surroundings define our existence.

Perhaps the saying is meant to infer that every day we live should be a measure of our lives, and our characters. In a way that, if someone were to pick a day- like a card- from the deck of our experiences, they'd more often than not find something decent and good. The husband or wife who selflessly supports their family. The waiter or waitress who always offers a smile, even when they don't feel like it. The underpaid security guard whose sense of duty and honor outweighs his compensation. Little things that don't seem to mean much at first glance, but upon closer inspection mean the whole world, at least to someone at some point in their lives.

That said, what would you do if you knew you had a year left to live? A month? A day? An hour? Five minutes?

The answer to that question is interesting, but immaterial. If the act is authentic, it will merely be a reflection of the life you've already lived. If it is forced, it is a hollow ending to a hollow life.

Each person has their own standard, and each person subconsciously measures their hypothetical response against that standard. One man's "nobility" is another man's "morality," which is another man's "hindrance." I shall not be the judge of that. However, if that standard radically changes in the face of death, it is no standard at all. The atheist who dies an atheist has at least lived according to a standard, regardless of the eventual outcome. His belief system was stronger than death. For this reason the Christians gave their lives in early Rome- the same strong belief system propels American volunteer soldiers to die around the world, as well as suicide bombers.

To summarize: it is paramount in human existence to develop a set of beliefs one is willing to represent, and eventually die with when the final day arrives.

The mass majority of the people on this earth (perhaps myself included) are merely wearing borrowed clothes. We hope to jump into our fitted tuxedo moments before the big celebration.

Problem is, it's usually a surprise party.

Boy

2006-10-24T21:22:00.000-06:00

This is slightly silly, but someone may find some intrinsic value in it somewhere. I learned it long ago- either from my father or my grandfather. If you have kids, they might think it's a fairly neat trick. I still do, and I'm an adult.

1. Write the word "boy."

2. Connect a line here...

3. A line there...

4. Eyes to see and lips to speak...

5. Glasses to see better and a nose to smell...

6. Add a neck and some eyebrows...

7. A few finishing touches, and it's done:

Axle

2006-10-24T17:17:00.000-06:00

Roughly a week ago today my wife and I were driving my 1988 Toyota Camry to work when we heard the following sound:

Thwa-thwa-thwa-thwa-THUNK!!!

Luckily, we still had enough momentum to pull into a nearby driveway.

At first I was scared to death, thinking I'd blown my transmission, which would cost about $1600 to rebuild. My car cost $600. (My car has a "passing" gear, which makes it more complicated.) Luckily, the transmission guy (after I acted out the scene) gave a different diagnosis.

Turns out I dropped my right side drive axle- basically, the thing that connects to the transmission and makes the tire turn. That's a picture of it above, for the less than mechanically inclined. (If you're really bored, it appears that clicking on it will enlarge the image.) Since the axle nut cover had been removed, it had apparently broken before.

And although an axle sounds bad, it's great compared to the cost of a new transmission. Autozone had one in stock for $64.99, and I was able to pay a friend to slap it in. He was worried about it at first, but it wasn't too complicated. Along the way, I also replaced the brake pads. They were about worn down to nothing.

Apparently, the old axle simply fell out. The six bolts holding it in had somehow managed to work themselves out, probably over the course of a few years.

Now she's up and running again, and we have (semi) reliable transportation.

Biking

2006-10-23T22:01:00.000-06:00

Biking is one of my favorite things in the world. Years from now, if an unknown uncle were to leave me millions, I'd like to think I'd still climb on my $53.44 Walmart bike and take it out for a spin.

Since it's already dusky by the time I get home, I added a headlight and tail light to my bicycle a few days ago. I don't plan on doing any night riding, but it certainly gives you a certain peace of mind when you know there's a bright red LED light behind you. I noticed the cars reacted quicker when it's on, so that's good.

Also, it's turning colder. I bought a cheap hooded sweatshirt and some gloves. Not the actual biking gloves, as they're too expensive. It's amazing how Walmart can sell $14.00 bicycle gloves in the bicycle section and $1.50 gloves in the gloves section. But I guess they sell them, or they wouldn't keep it on the shelf. I also suppost I'm not as smart as Walmart, as they make a gazillion dollars a day.

On Saturdays, I go for distance. With little on my schedule and all day to ramble, I'm able to explore and push myself. I don't go exceptionally fast, but I grind out mile after mile. Last week I went roughly fifteen miles in a large loop that eventually went back home. Each weekend the loop gets larger and larger.

Sunday is an average day- one hour, roughly ten miles. Day for the legs to stretch out and rest a bit.

Tuesday is a speed day- I travel roughly eight miles, and push myself to complete it as fast as I can.

Thursday depends on how I feel. The only requirement is that I stay on the bike for at least thirty minutes. Anything shorter than that, and you're just having fun.

Wait, you might say- I thought you enjoyed biking? I do. But it's not just about having fun. Playing a video game is fun. Napping on the couch is fun. Biking is most rewarding when your legs are on fire and screaming as you push slowly up a hill. You think about the comforts of home sitting miles and miles away, and yet you force yourself to push harder in the cold and wet rain. No one is watching- you could easily stop for a moment and catch your breath. But you push on, because you've told yourself to finish. At that moment, it's anything but fun. But afterwards, when you've reached the top, you know you gave the effort that you could. There's something to that, I think.

There's an old saying that goes "No pain, no gain." I don't buy into it. If my knee twinges, I monitor it carefully. If it does it again, I go slow. If it does it again, I'm walking home or setting the bike to the easiest gear. Exercise is about pushing your comfort level and thereby increasing it, not injuring yourself.

That said, there have been days where I've been in so much discomfort climbing a hill where I wished I could have been anywhere but where I was- sitting in class, reading a book, eating a steak- but when I'm done, laying in the grass sucking air, there's nowhere else I'd rather be. And you can't drive a million dollar car to that place- you gotta get there on a $53.44 bike.

Which is quite the ironic bargain, when you think about it.

Lighthouse

2006-10-23T20:59:00.000-06:00

The last few weeks have been exceptionally strange. So much has happened that it's impossible to delineate it with any sort of representational accuracy, much less attempt to cast it in a negative or positive light. Like a frosted mirror, it thwarts reflection and merely gives off muted shades of color and light.

There is, however, an overriding theme to the silhouette- a grand design among the shadows, it appears.

Usually I wish the architect would call, but alas, he generally only leaves about unfinished plans.

This time I not only got a blueprint- I got two of 'em.

I'd been struggling with the direction of my life for quite some time. It reeks of being trite, but I was a sailor lost in the darkness of the sea. The salt hitting the face, the wind picking up, and no sense of direction. I had a beautiful boat but no port to steer toward.

In a word, I was lost.

I still went through the motions- all good sailors do, knowing that the next island is just over the horizon. At least, they hope so. And their actions reflect that hope, as if their beliefs could change the truth.

At long last, I hit shore.

A week ago the career placement lady ran an opening for a Special Project with the Mississippi Department of Archives. I'd been thinking about working for the Archives after graduation for some time, so to say the announcement was coincidental or fortuitous would be an understatement. From what I gather, these Projects are quite rare- just getting a chance at all is remarkable.

What's even weirder is that I'm the ONLY person who replied. Which is ridiculous (at least in my schema) because working at the archives is perhaps the most interesting thing I could imagine doing. Digging through history and making it accessible to those who wish to know it seems to be the antithesis of every Orwellian novel I've ever read- and a supremely rewarding task. That, and I like old books.

Secondly, I interviewed for a JAG position roughly a month ago and I think it went well. In a few days, I'm going to send off an application for their summer internship position. The process is selective, but I'm hoping it works out. I could easily find myself working overseas.

Once, while biking, I was lost. Not to say lost, exactly, but I didn't want to have to turn around in order to get home. So I took a right and hoped the road I was on would get me there. Along the way, I saw a gentleman in his front yard. I asked him (weary and ragged of breath) if this was the way to the convenience store (i.e., home for my purposes). He said yes. Happily, I sped easily up the next hill. That's when it hit me. The hills don't bother you as much when you have a purpose for overcoming them.

Life, it turns out, works the same way.

You Can Kiss My Ash

2006-10-23T20:36:00.000-06:00

Sometimes all that's needed is a little change. A different look. A slightly different perspective on this thing called life. Hell, even I was getting tired of the "I hate the fact that I'm a law student" vibe. Who wants to read that stuff? I don't know, but I was sure getting tired of writing it. And like a self-fulfilling prophecy, all that depressing prose was starting to feed the very situation that made life depressing. A few weeks from now, at the rate I was going, they would have found me in a dumpster with my mouth stuffed full of Valium and hundred dollar bills. Not a pretty way to go, that.

Also, the last few weeks, I've noticed that my mood has lifted considerably. I'm back to my old self. So I began to wonder- if my old blog could drag me down, could a new and different blog lift me up? It's worth a try. So, like a phoenix, I'm rising from the remains of my burnt carcass.

So this is it. I hope people enjoy it.