Hyped by Design

Maybe this will hold over the 2.5 people who actually still read this blog.


I saw this next to the vacuums while sucking out winter's rocks from my car at the car wash, very odd. If I was into having more junk I'd have brought it home. Goes without saying I doubt they make film for this type of instamatic any more. I did feel sorry for it.


I've loaned out my boat to these people, if you see them go by, wave, and ask them when they're going to return it to me, the last I saw it, pictured, was heading up the canal.


Recently it was Hil's bday, if you haven't wished her a happy bday, it's too late, better wait until next year. We had dinner shortly after when Hil's 'rents were in town at RubyBlue's place. Always good to eat there, Beck knows how to throwdown food. I'm just happy for the brief period of weeks my sig other's bday catches up by a year.

Hil's bday cake.


This is Mini Pearl, one of RubyBlue's kitties, she's a cutie pie. She jumps from one counter on one side of the kitchen to the top of this fridge and, if given the occasion to pounce on the dinner table... will.


The Bro and I went to Kingston recently to see the excellent Matthew Good with a bunch of idiots half our age. Our hotel, the Radisson, right on the water, was really quite nice.


View of Kingston Harbour #1.

Kingston Harbour #2.


Kingston Harbour 3. Kingston has a very active economy, pretty much opposite of it's sister city, where I live. IT even has a very hustling/bustling waterfront where they're building things, hopefully for youth and/or cool people, not to house old people, like they do in Oswego.


Dorks in an elevator. For the life of me I don't know how I took this pic yet appear at an angle, damn light, first it's a particle, now it's a wavelength, who knows what it'll be next, a paraplexity?


Tim.


Kingston Harbor #4, at night.


Kinston Brew Pub's delivery vehicle. Cool!


Driving the Rav back from Canada, look ma, no hands on high up bridge!


This lighthouse should be entirely red considered it's photographed so much.


Paddle paddle! [At least I didn't post the other ones babe!] Seeing my Hilary smile always makes me smile! *smack*


Summer... FINALLY!!! Ahhh, so much better, summer... my favorite two weeks of the year in upstate New York!


Isaac isn't impressed.


And my girl... she be goofy.

Considering how much I simply ignore my blog this may not be a big deal, but I did think in earnest about updating it only to be neck deep in being all tech-geek at home, installing Leopard and currently Windoze on my Macbook Pro (thankfully only in Boot Camp), it's a pain doing geek stuff as it takes time, lots of it. The end result is, supposedly, an "upgrade" and after a few days you'll wonder how you'll live without things, but in the mean time, I can't help but think "is this all worth it?"

The dictionary defines the verb of career as "to move swiftly and in an uncontrolled way in a specific direction," which, in many ways, seems more apt that the noun, "an occupation undertaken for a significant period of one's life." "Significant period." "Significant." [shudder] When one starts slipping closer and closer to do very similar things for two decades, that's significant. Thankfully it hasn't been THE same thing for two decades, various roles, hats, similar titles but different duties.

It doesn't get that old per se, to me, it's all living a life a bit less ordinary, which is where I'd rather be, than ordinary. To hell with time clocks, dress codes, filling out applications, that's ordinary, no thanks. My first job was like that, and just not where I'll ever want to be, my "career" affords me to skirt things most would have to do in the working world. That, of course, is not by accident but by choice. I still remember a night sitting on a roof in 1994 looking out across a city and making a decision, one of a very few times in my life I remember taking a hard and fast line on something that's empowered how things have worked out. Decision is Latin for "to cut from" which is to say I made a clear cut from what I would or wouldn't take.


New office, different view.

When asked about my "career" recently I coined it more like a trajectory that I've tried to not come back down, fears it will are there, sure, but with work and believing in what I do, thankfully, it's stayed mostly up there. One could think my life has been "uncontrolled" really it hasn't. I've lived by the rule that luck really isn't luck at all, just timing, that is, being at the right place, at the right time, then doing the right thing, which usually to be at that place takes a LOT of work. By that estimation, I guess I must be lucky, but I'll never think of it that way, all I remember is the work to get there part, which is to say, at times I've busted my arse to be where I am today.

For the last eight years I've been freelancing which, at least monetary-wise, would look like an inverse bell curve, high at the beginning, a low spot about 1/4-1/2 way, then a steady climb. Freelancing was just something I did, I'm sure there was more stress about it in the beginning but the overall the mental state going into it was the same as when I jumped into a car and moved myself to Seattle to go work for Adobe. People said things like "I could never move across country and do that without knowing anyone" or "were you scared?" Not really, at least, for me, it's just reflex at some point, if one really stops to think about things then all mental hell breaks loose.

My only regret is I've never looked for a client or work since my first job, everything has just come to me. "Luck?" No, timing. Some may think "wow that's great" but my fear is, had I not just taken what's come along, perhaps I'd have found something I could be more passionate about. I'd trade the money I made at times and vague notoriety in my industry for something I could have stepped back and gone "wow" over. That, truly, is less ordinary, not doing something for a pay check, but because you truly love what you do. I like what I do, but we're talking you live it to the depths of your soul love it.

After eight years I wanted a change of pace, something different, I've been a bit burned out, yet I knew something would come along, it always does. An odd facet of my life is usually when I want change somehow I've willed it to happen, not that it always does on time, and not that another change I DIDN'T will to come to me won't throw things in my way or pull the rug out, but overall, my "luck" works, and has worked, over a significant period of time, with enough variation my mind has been kept challenged and learning. If you're not learning, you're not growing as a person, fallow fields grow weeds, I'd never have taken this, or any position, if I didn't feel I would have to learn, and by learning, sometimes I mean change a bit as a person, rise up, grow.

Another question was "will it be hard to transition back to the working world," not really, I did it for over the first half of my trajectory, working professional, an office with a door, vaguely respectful job with responsibilities and balls to run with. This is less a promotion than just a return to form, different, but the same, in fact, a large majority of the new job is essentially doing what I do now for a living, only now I do it around people; faculty, staff, and students.

How long will this phase be? Not sure. Long? Probably not. What's next? Dunno. Will it be different? I sure hope so. Less ordinary? Uh huh. Nervous? Not really. Maybe it'd be better if it was a more scary, out-there, type of thing and I was scared as hell, for those who aren't a bit scared, aren't living, or, to quote Dylan "he who ain't busy bein' born, is busy dying." Helen Kellor, "life is either a daring adventure, or nothing at all." Maybe I'm starting with nothing with my new job and hoping to make it a daring adventure, after all, we truly can create the lives we want: Timing > place > knowing > hard work = "luck" [sic]. I can do all these things, have been doing them, done it before, maybe this time I'll take a chance on being scared.


If you squint, you can see there's lake over yonder, so now both my home AND my office have views of the lake, not too shabby!

The first time I heard about big business sleaze in Central New York was when I was in college in the late 80s and talk about some new maul that was being put on what was essentially an old toxic waste dump on the edge of the lake, bought for something like $1, cleanup paid for by the taxpayers, and a maul fronted on the backs of bonds that, from what I understand, have never been paid back. Enter one Carousmell Maul, who's crumbling parking lot on it's opening day showing the ugliness underneath was all the metaphor any sane person would ever need. Back in 1990 the CNY economy hadn't totally tanked so nobody was jumping on the "maul means jobs" bandwagon, after all, minimum wage then (at $3.75) as now ($7.25) is not something any person can make a living on in this day and age, but it, of course, essentially what a maul brings any area in a way of jobs.

Fast forward almost 20 years later and there are some that think scumbucket extraordinaire Bobby "Lacks All Soul and is Filthy Rich Thanks to All of YOUR Hard Work, Never Earned a Penny of Real Pay Ever a Day in his Sack of Shit Existence Life" Congel still could bring life to CNY, there's a word for people like that, suckers, or maybe stooges, or just FUCKING MORONS! He's kept afloat in various ways, hiding money, bilking taxpayers, getting big cozy donations, and doing the equivalent of flim-flammery that would make PT Barnum kneel at his feet and utter with tears in his eyes "I am not worthy!" A guy who's not only made his money, but lots of it, from basically everyone else's money is living high on the hog using smoke and mirrors.

You probably are asking "what's this all about then?" Actually this is all about now how stupid people like Bobby "Biggest Crook in the Northeast" Congel exist, but rather, that people will turn a blind eye, maybe because in 'Murica we idolize the rich, even if they are robbing the same people idolizing them, "it's okay" they must work up in their tiny non-logical brain, "he's robbing me, raping my land, putting many of my neighbors out of work by stealing tax credits and monies that should go towards downtown and preservation, but he's just so darn rich, I can't hate him."

Not even when it's shown as in the Empire Zone report that he's getting about $10,000,000, #3 in the state behind two other employers who are creating thousands of jobs in the once depressed but turning around city of Binghamton, one of which is IBM, oh, and not retail jobs, but actual well paying, you could raise a family on them, jobs, also showing a huge discrepancy. Should be noted, Congel is getting the third most credits in the state for far and a way the least amount of jobs or improvement. Some people have seen this and are shocked, I am too, but now for why you think, I'm shocked that the jobs created, which is what the original half a billion Empire Zone was created for, doesn't list only one for Congel, and it's Congel himself pocketing $10,000,000, that's far more his speed.

100(ish) jobs at $10 mill is about $100,000 a job of course, which, he's got that many friends. Workers? Not likely. He probably files for a Bob Congel, Bobby Congel, Robert Congel, Robert Congel II, etc. for himself, and his other rich sleazy friends with other names.

You could get down on that one company, Resort Funding, only 35 jobs, 1/3 of Congel, until you do the math and realize each job is about $26,000, which barely scrapes by for most people, and you couldn't raise a family without some government assistance on that.

Many of those others you can see the breakdown means partial jobs or, what the Empire Zone was created for, to HELP people hire, not subsidize hiring people and paying them. Then again, sleazeball fucknut sucking CNY dry using his ponzi scheme-cum-sad-excuse for a Maul which he's drawn out for 20 years (it's, essentually, his income ripping of Central New York, a fucked up Robin Hood stealing from the poor, and giving to the rich and himself) Congel is doing with Empire Zone what he's done with the Canal Grant (absconded a huge state proportion even though he's not technically on a canal) the Downtown Tax Credit (even though he's not in downtown) and about 10 other breaks, only half I'm recalling vaguely by name, where he's actually sucking tills dry that were meant to be spread out among many developments/developers.

He's basically killing Central New York, but Central New York may deserve it as they're too dumb to do jack shit about it.

(and people wonder why I stopped posting? this shit shows up more and more in the news, just regurgitating it creeps up my blood pressure, NOT that people SHOULDN'T get upset, they should, the should go to Congel's Montezuma "refuge" where he kills animals for "sport" and "fun" and slice his throat, find every business person in their manson's paid by your and my money, kill them too, kill them all, but not me, I've got blood pressure to keep down and marching with torches, though it's what citizens SHOULD do, might set me over the edge)

I dreamt last night
of sirens
by flashlight I had
found you
you just held my hand
by the bright lights
in some ICU
even the planless
have a plan

I can't write
lovesongs
when I'm on these things
I'm affable
responsible
but hard to be around
It's correctable
and they're right
(you know)
It's as easy as it sounds
It's all as easy
as it sounds

I dreamt last night
I saw you
A single spark
explosion
negotiating with the dead
By the bright lights
in some ICU
On my chest
You put your head
And said
There you are
There you are
There's
my
heart.

The more you know!

Biblical evidence would put this "Jesus" guy actually was born in either March or September. Luke 1:35-36 John the Baptist was born six months before his cousin "Jesus." The Bible mentions Elizabeth conceived after her husband Zacharias had finished serving at a temple (Luke and 1Chronicals) which good old Zach would have knocked Liz up with John's birthdate that of either December (follows a theory I believe, John was Jesus, a real, but  fictional charismatic character the "church" then altered because "John" was too common a name) or December, putting the "Jesus" birthdate either September or March. It's pretty sad that the drunken sots who assembled the bible in Carthage in 270, er, I'm sorry, 266 (had to correct the year error as mentioned below) didn't even read their fictional stories they were weaving into a tome of hate and control enough to put down the right date, not that a future pope wouldn't have changed it.

I've always got a kick out of xmas, first off, because it's all just exquisite fiction believed by the sucker masses, but secondly, even if you believe the "good" (cough cough more hate than love in the book of fiction bible cough) book... the good book doesn't mention "Jesus" being born on the 25th. If you follow the book, which shouldn't be followed in the first place, "he" actually would have been born in September or March.

In fact, a very good friend of mine with a degree in theology, who oddly IS xtian (I'm not sure how one can read that many lies and still buy into the cult) admits, whole heartedly, what many other theologians and others also would, in private anyway, agree, the 25th ain't it.

Oh but it gets better. Herod's death was recorded by the Jews, the Jews were no slouches in record keeping (hence, the fact there was a lot of Johns nailed to a cross but not a Jesus, but... hey, I'll just leave you to ponder that one) had Herod's death falling at 4 BC... so, technically, the whole western calendar, which is based on a fictional mythical character, is off by four years (making all those year 2000 loonies, who already are loonies, looking even more stupid, not that they needed help).

Where did we go wrong? Another devout Catholic who also is a big theologian and also sadly in the cult, will point you to where it went wrong, a pompous typically pious control freak (which, of course, is what religion is truly about... control, mind, money, wars. etc) named Pope Liberius in 354 came up with December 25th, and it was arbitrary, it was to proceed the gray area date the this "Christ" character was born, which the church deducted from Jewish scriptures misread by people who didn't have a great handle on Hebrew as being some time between December 24th and January 8th. So 25th, close, hey, let's have mass to celebrate it! The first "Christ Mass" (where we get Chirstmas... duh) was officiated by Pope Sixtus III in 435 and he picked it to oppose Natalis Solis Invicti (Nativity of the Unconquerable Sun, which, at the time, we believed went around us, also indicated BTW in the Bible, funny how xtians overlook that one too, like how we should smite people working retail on Sundays and burn a bull on the sabbath because it's smell pleases the lord or marry our brother's widow, I mean, it's all right there in the bible, unlike abortion (Genesis states a baby isn't a life until it breath's it's first breath, which isn't in the womb) or the hate for gays, which "god" never says he does, Paul does, etc. But hey, clearly the righteous can pick and choose, so can I, the difference is I go on the facts, funny, but xtians rarely do, and of course, would choose rather than not know them, after all, then they'd see the bible as the load of fictional tripe it is.

Anyways, if I say "merry effin' xmas" to you in September or March, now you know why, have a great December 25th though... it's a day, like any other day... but many of us take it off and stuff.

Prologue: Bethlehem in December is incredibly snowy, there'd be no shepherds in the fields and historically they'd all be indoors, roads were impassible and everyone stayed indoors. They'd only be keeping watch over their flocks in Spring, not December, as they do to this day there, yet supposedly they were the the night golden boy there was born, um... what?! They'd not have been in the fields in December, there was no food for the flocks in any fields, so the bible right there is so highly inaccurate yet even the people in Jerusalem don't stop and go "wait... what?"

RULES FOR 2008:

New Rule : No more gift registries. You know, it used to be just for weddings. Now it's for babies and new homes and graduations from rehab. Picking out the stuff you want and having other people buy it for you isn't gift giving, it's the white people version of looting.

New Rule : Stop giving me that pop-up ad for classmates.com ! There's a reason you don't talk to people for 25 years. Because you don't particularly like them! Besides, I already know what the captain of the football team is doing these days --mowing my lawn.

New Rule : Don't eat anything that's served to you out a window unless you're a seagull. People are acting all shocked that a human finger was found in a bowl of Wendy's chili. Hey, it cost less than a dollar. What did you expect it to contain? Lobster?

New Rule : Stop saying that teenage boys who have sex with their hot, blonde teachers are permanently damaged . I have a better description for these kids: 'Lucky bastards.'

New Rule : If you need to shave and you still collect baseball cards, you're a dope. If you're a kid, the cards are keep sakes of your idols. If you're a grown man, they're pictures of men.

New Rule : Ladies, leave your eyebrows alone. Here's how much men care about your eyebrows: Do you have two of them? Okay, we're done.

New Rule : There's no such thing as flavored water. There's a whole aisle of this crap at the supermarket, water, but, without that watery taste. Sorry, but flavored water is called a soft drink. You want flavored water? Pour some scotch over ice and let it melt. That's your flavored water.

New Rule : Stop screwing with old people. Target is introducing a redesigned pill bottle that's square, with a bigger label. And the top is now the bottom. And by the time grandpa figures out how to open it, his ass will be in the morgue. Congratulations, Target, you just solved the Social Security crisis.

New Rule : The more complicated the Starbucks order, the bigger the asshole. If you walk into a Starbucks and order a 'decaf grandee, half-soy, half-low fat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra dry, light ice, with one Sweet-n'-Low, and One NutraSweet,' ooh, you're a huge asshole.

New Rule : I'm not the cashier! By the time I look up from sliding my card, entering My PIN number, pressing 'Enter,' verifying the amount, deciding, no, I don't want Cash back, and pressing 'Enter' again, the kid who is supposed to be ringing me up Is standing there eating my Almond Joy.

New Rule : Just because your tattoo has Chinese characters in it doesn't make you Spiritual. It's right above the crack of your ass. And it translates to 'beef with broccoli.' The last time you did anything spiritual, you were praying to God you weren't pregnant. You're not spiritual. You're just high.

New Rule : Competitive eating isn't a sport. It's one of the seven deadly sins. ESPN Recently televised the U.S. Open of Competitive Eating, because watching those athletes at the poker table was just too damned exciting. What's next, competitive farting? Oh wait, they're already doing that. It's called 'The Howard Stern Show.'

New Rule : I don't need a bigger mega M&Ms. If I'm extra hungry for M&Ms, I'll go nuts and eat two.

New Rule : If you're going to insist on making movies based on crappy old television shows, then you have to give everyone in the Cineplex a remote so we can see what's playing on the other screens. Let's remember the reason something was a television show in the first place is that the idea wasn't good enough to be a movie.

New Rule : And this one is long overdue: No more bathroom attendants. After I zip up, some guy is offering me a towel and a mint like I just had sex with George Michael. I can't even tell If he's supposed to be there, or just some freak with a fetish. I don't want to be on your webcam, Dude. I just want to wash my hands.

New Rule : When I ask how old your toddler is, I don't need to hear '27 months. ''He's two' will do just fine. He's not a cheese. And I didn't really care in the first place.

New Rule : If you ever hope to be a credible adult and want a job that pays better than minimum wage, then for God's sake don't pierce or tattoo every available piece of flesh. If so, then plan your future around saying, 'Do you want fries with that?

The difference between the sexes is something that, on one hand, can be a source of frustration, but also a source of amusement.

Though the book "Porn for Women" is written by, and intended for the fairer sex, I think it may be better to buy every man a copy of it, though I doubt even then he'd get it. It seems sadly per the reviews by some women who think this is reverse sexism, neither do some women.

Personally, I think this is hysterical and a few hit just a little too close to home.

Upon coming out of a hole in the ground from the Metro in the park we see people marching, they're angry, and they're not going to take it anymore.


Okay, maybe they'll take it a little longer while listening to Darius Rucker sing the extended version of "Hold My Hand." Plenty of environmentally unfriendly water bottles being handed out, not known if any were given to actual homeless.


Million portajohn march was going on as well. Equal rights for portable toilets!!!


Pretty bird on a pretty day in a pretty drinking fountain splashing about. Ah to be a mammal not on display. (Photo by Hil)


Unlike these poor stiffs. Welcome to the family reunion? Uncle Bob, you look stuffed? Take it easy on the egg salad, would ya? Most my family reunions didn't have relatives hanging from the ceiling, not that it wouldn't have hurt the festivities. Note: I think sea cows are cute (upper right).


Roaarrr!!! If I could wish this back to life I'd take it to either the capital building or the white house and let it eat some politicians.


To think I have a hard time getting Hilary on planes now, I can't imagine if we were around 50 years ago looking at this thing in the foreground. I'm a sucker for shiny older planes so wouldn't mind having the one in the background, however I forgot to bring my wire cutters to get it down and take home. If it's not obvious to those never been to DC, we're in the Smithsonian, a collection of about seventeen million buildings and over a hundred-thousand exhibits.


Hil's Dad and I had to make a pit stop... in Skylab. In space, nobody can hear you flush. Note: In space they're not called bathrooms but "Waste Management Rooms." I think we should rename all restrooms as such immediately. I'd have taken such a bill to the rich fatcats in Congress but they're too busy giving each other reacharounds and taking our and lobbiest's money to ruin our once great nation.


From here as a matter of fact. We were going to go in but despite the fact we've helped pay for the upkeep of this small building we're not allowed in without knowing the hokey-pokey. We headed towards the entrance where there was a line of people waiting to get in to be turned away, we needed a ticket, those tickets you had to get from this tent wayyyy the opposite side, actually away from the capital itself. Which was an interesting lesson in and of itself to the unitiated (i.e. NOT me) of how Washington DC works, or rather, doesn't. Backwards at best, everything else at worst.


We did get to see however, this diorama of congressmen (mostly pictured here are Republicans) in their natural environment.


Speaking of "backwards" and "worst," here be the pResidency palace of the first dictator in US history. I'd say "backwards" like the current regime is taking the country that way, but "backwards" isn't synonymous with "ruin," which is more accurate. Worst pResident evar by many polls in the US, almost unanimous if polling the world. Not sure what kind of hangover the globe will see in 2008 but as someone said during monkey boy george's first daze in office as he wiped out about four years of progress in a week, "it's harder to fix things he's going to break if we let him than if he hadn't broken them at all," looking back at the mess he's made, that is quite perhaps the understatement of the ages.


Hate to land on the Washington Monument from a fall. The windows at the top we heard ar every narrow to look out, like peaking through to slots, hence we decided to enjoy the view of the little windows from the ground.


It's good to know that in a shot even with the sig other familial instead of posing or acting like a "normal" human being (whatever the hell that is supposed to be) I can instead pose as in many other shots doing typical meaningless pointless pointing. Ah this banality never gets old... seriously.


I liked this picture of Hil and her Dad walking for some reason (my beak and mouthbreathing piehole making an appearance upper left). Family generational time covered in a shutter snap I suppose. I dig Hil's dad, he's a bitter curmudgeon as astute and up on things as myself with the same pragmatic angle, which is to say maybe we get along a little too well to Hil's chagrin.


The Lincoln Memorial is waaaaay off from the main drag, but worth the walk.


Not as far off as poor old Jefferson's memorial, which is aways down the Potomac and totally off the beaten path. This shot was taken using Hil's camera's mega zoom. You can just make out Jefferson standing in the middle of the monument going "WTF did they put me all the way over here for?!?! HEY YOU with the camera, I'm way over here.... HEYY!!!" Needless to say we gave him the hand signal "maybe next time you crazy slave-keepin' old dude guy fella!"


Lincoln's pad was a powerful feeling place. Though poor Lincoln has a look of "WTF has happened to my country, it's full of idiots who voted for this Bush shithead... twice? I'm happy I'm dead! Those shitheads, him and Cheney, are avoiding my fate as they'd rather ban the arts than go to a play, wish they'd visit a balcony with some loon with a gun behind them and save this country some madness" I like Abe, he's a smart guy, I'm rather sure he was thinking all this!


In a time before well crafted and vacuous, meaningless speeches from the mouths of politicians who stand for only one and one thing... they and their rich cronies personal gains, it's refreshing to see how perhaps absolutely brilliant the times were when politicians were people with more on their agendas than their wallets, greed, and narrow ideologies. On this one huge wall in the Lincoln Memorial was the Lincoln's second inaugural address, it was incredibly moving, heartfelt, and beautiful, all of which is lacking in today's politics.


Cheer up Lincoln, at least your crib has this cool-as-hell view 24/7.


Equally moving, but in a completely different way, was the Vietnam Memorial. Note in this shot you see the wall of names, and that the wall then bends completely out of the frame to the right. It's both a memorial to the men and women led to slaughter by the stupidity of the leaders of their time, and to stupidity of fruitless wars themselves, which is to say, it's doubtful dubya or cheney have every visited this place, and even if they did, they probably mocked it mentally.


But it takes a village... of idiots, to send young men and women off to their graves over pointless wars, at least 'Nam wasn't completely baseless unlike Iraq, a war over oil and government contracts to make friends of the VP rich off the blood of hundreds and thousands of innocents (ironically more dead now by the US's hands in five years than 20 under Saddam) while bankrupting our country. Saddam wasn't even in the top 10 dictators in the world and 1/10th less than Ho Chi Minh in terms of bloodshed but he, over the others needed to be ousted makes as little sense to anyone smart enough to educate themselves to the reality of world issues in 2002/3, sadly this shit never comes out in the wash until later, much like 'Nam except to those who like myself and sadly a few others tend to educate themselves on the reality of the world of the present, not the past in history books.

This shot is very poignient, the up-with-USA teens oblivious to how expendible they truly are to the rich mostly white elite in the building in the background, who'd gladly and without a conscience or soul put those lives at risk to have them etched on another wall in the foreground. Some wars are necessary, however most all in the last half- a-century have all turned out to be meaningless, all under the guise of one thing or another, all invasions mostly at the hands of this country for it's own gains misleading the citizens through lies they so easily believe and dividing a nation. Those people in red, white, and blue visiting these sites best heed the reality and not buy into the same shit the current group of "leaders" [sic] foist onto it's masses, taking this country, and sadly with it much of the world, into a shithole. Those who do not learn history but vote in jerks and idiots will have no recourse when it all gets repeated.

Edward Luttwak opined "The customary reward of defeat, if one can survive it, is the lessons learned which may yield victory in the next war. The circumstances of defeat in Vietnam however were sufficiently ambiguous to deny the nation that, or any, benefit." Indeed. 1975, meet 2007.

Errr, except somehow we're in November... aaaand the leaves are still on the trees.

Not that I'm complaining mind you, I wholeheartedly welcome global warming as a warm, and thin, bloody human being who's most free in shorts and short sleeves, less layers the better.

The trees are a bit confused around here as it's November, when they're normally bare, but they look like the following...


More like late September around here.


Gadzooks! Green... in November!


Tiny (who's not so Tiny) even approves from his perch.

Below big, sloth-loading animated GIF is taken from images last year, as in, 2006. The first image in the five is from about October 19th, the last image that loads is November 7th, with mostly bare trees. And yes, there is a frame in there with snow! Ick! We had the evil white stuff around November 5th of 2006 and it stuck albeit breifly. As of this writing, even though there has been threats, we've had none of the white stuff... huzzah!!! And nary a white flake in the forecast as yet... keep it up please!


Bare.

Let's see if we can keep some leaves until December, get two weeks of snow around xmas to give things that holiday feel, and go right into spring about mid-January. Dare to dream!

I've never wanted to blog about nothing. That seems sooo, um, MySpace, or Xangan (with a few exceptions) to do. Most blogs are, in fact, about nothing, and I suppose, the same could be said for mine.

The average blog reads like "I am this today, look at meeeEEEEEE" and that's pretty narcissistic, just a place to self-aggrandize or collectively circlejerk. Lately my blog goes stagnant and I feel a bit of pressure to write something even when I don't really have anything to say, which is saying something, me not saying anything. This has to be why it must be hard to be a writer who needs to come up with creative and clever material on a deadline, never the machine forever.

A great example is the Prairie Home Companion podcasts, of late, even the venerable warm folksy charming brilliance that is it's writer and narrator Garrison Keillor has been, teped at best, just plain boring mostly, it's as if he's just mailing it in. It's one thing when he used to weave a clever story that sealed well with a central premise that, in many instances, would wrap neatly together near the end, perhaps to instill some moral, or the better ones, humour. But of late it's been weeks of the same thing, it's like he's going through the motions of telling us the weather of Lake Woebegone at first, then a few tidbits with no real cohesion. It'd be like if I wrote "this week in Oswego a neighbor got a hangnail, it rained, someone saw a guy walking down a road," it makes me grateful that if he can run out of material, so can I (I guess). I'm waiting for his next monologue to start "Oh, hey, look at meeeEEEEEE!!!" though doubt he'd stoop that low, not to mention he tends to talk about other people.

When I talk about other people it seems to go into non-flattering terms (our neighbors, for instance, our clueless, soulless pompous asshats of the highest calibre) or seems to go droll in a hurry. I could talk about how lovely Hil is to hear her then tell me how she doens't necessarily like me telling the world that I think she's lovely or talk about how the pResident and his cronies are soulless scumbags, but that's like shooting fish in a barrel with a high capacity chaingun. I'm not against talking about myself but that gets old, besides, everyone else talks about themselves, I'd rather be different if possible. Could take a picture and post it, nah, what's new to see.

Let this blog post serve as a cautionary tale to those who seek to blog regularly, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually even the best (Keillor) run out of material, it can happen to you.

Despite me falling apart in most areas of the body, some that are better off not mentioning, it would seem at least one thing has stayed true since my youth... my vision. Pretty remarkable considering I sit at a computer sometimes 12-15 hours a day, that part is what's remarkable, I should be blind, clearly though, I'm not. I guess this makes sense though as I read about how people's vision, in most cases, goes far or near, actually has to do with the shape of the skull, and around my sockets is enough room to pack a lunch, which is to say, my eyes have plenty of room to stay almost round.

Backing up, however, I had my eyes checked BECAUSE I'm having odd headaches from around my eyes, which, the optomistrist, is convinced it's caused by long hours at the computer and, this part, that the muscles around the eyes once you start pushing 40 (or pulling it), start to lose their ability to constantly focus and refocus for hours and hours and hours (and hours) and hours on end. I'm not quite there yet, but they're thinking close enough.

That said, I tested out at 20/20, though they were initially impressed that I could hold the card rating near-sitedness pretty much to my nose and still see and rattle off all the lines and they never seemed blurry to me, in the least, I told them at the end that I was bummed as, in my youth, I had 20/10 vision. With that, they cranked up the machine again on the wall and put the super funky alien bug-eyes mask up to my face again and decided to check to see if, indeed, I was 20/20 or "better" (with no explanation of the fact why didn't they go the extra step before). Sure enough, I read right to the end of the test, the very last, lowest line that their equipment would show, which was in fact the test for 20/10 (makes me wonder why they don't keep going down to 20/10?). In fact, I rattled off all the letters, breezing through, to which the optometrist asked "why didn't you read the letters this quickly when we were testing you before?" My answer, "I wanted the answers to count, to me this was the bonus round." She wheeled halfway across the room to show me when she could make sense of the bottom row... and that's with her wearing contacts, to wit, that's how better my eyes were than hers.

Now, to be fair, it's not that I have telescopic vision, rather I can make out letters up very close or very far, they're not any closer to me than her, or anyones mind you, just I can make them out, even though the lowest line was, indeed, microscopicly almost impossible to read. In fact, I missed one letter (you need to miss three to fail the test).

The question though is, okay, I have better than perfect vision, which I find odd that eye exams are graded on a curve.

(BTW, it's Z C T L O P D F E in case someone can't read that last line)

I'm not a big dog fan (too needy and can't clean up after themselves), that said, this pug is the cat's meow of dogs. So cute it's ugly, so wacky and loving it's hard not to appreciate and grin ear to ear by his ease to please! These were from the Oswego SPCA's dog walk-a-thon, where there were plenty of furry friends. They should try a cat walk-a-thon, that'd be something to see! Probably take a very long time to make it around the course though, if they ever would make it.


Slurp slurp slurp slurp...


Oh, hi hi hi hi (to Jacks of Dry the Rain fame)


Slurp lap lap lap lap slurp...