It'll truly tear the cover off of things...

I was contemplating things as I tried to sort out configuring a device for the company I'm visiting here in Houston and wondered what it'll be like when/if we encounter beings that are not of this Earth, either in a physical or mental sense. ID4 didn't even touch the fact that the appearance of the "alien fleet" could cause many to go entirely insane, since the current structure of things is, by and large, based on tangibility, either in the physical or mental senses of the word. If we can't deal with something and its significance (or insignificance), humanity then seems to go into shell shock.

Granted, this syndrome is nothing new. Many encounter it when faced with decisions that have genuinely uncertain outcomes, both optimistic and pessimistic. I know I am one who has hit this more than once and am facing it again now. Certainly the optimistic view on things sees a brighter world where things are free and obligations don't feel like obligations, just simple tasks to accomplish on the long thruway of happiness. The pessimist sees that the world after such an event will be one of loneliness, spite, vitriol, and depression, mostly due to a lessened feeling of being in control.

Control is what it's all about. We are jealous of those who have control of their lives and, to some extent, the lives of others, and we are happy when we are in that catbird seat. Surrendering some control is often OK when it's for an established time, such as an airplane flight. There's a definite outcome at the end and clear demarcation of when the control is returned to you.

Things emotional, however, are about balancing the loss of control (i.e. stability) with the regained control over one's life that comes after resolution has come and passed (happiness and freedom, though only sometimes after a period of mourning). For these reasons, among others, emotional issues always seem to generate heartburn, both in acid reflux and the weight on the heart that comes with a lack of resolution. More than a lack of resolution, actually, it is a lack of grasping and being able to articulate what's really right and wrong (as in functional/dysfunctional) about a situation or the lack of an appropriate audience to tell and recollect thoughts while doing so.

So, back to the "alien" subject, perhaps this is why I have so many dreams about aliens coming to Earth. There's a lot I don't know of their intentions; sometimes the dreams go well and sometimes they don't. Regardless of outcome, their presence is still something that boggles my mind, even in dreams where I'm supposed to have some sort of control. Most times where things go bad in my dreams, I end up being with my friends, a couple of them in particular, and things work out OK. They're tough, certainly, but they work out.

I have seen the alien fleet arriving on the horizon. It's mighty big.

Sleep is for the weak, right?

Sure, if you can get a solid 3-4 hours, you can keep going for days/weeks/months. That's what having a child is like, especially if you're the primary parent for feedings. I admit I wasn't, but that time wasn't good for sleeping for other reasons, so I do know the long-term effects of sleep deprivation.

Unfortunately, my mind never shut down last night so sleep was something that came in sitcom-sized doses. Feck.

Guess I've a lot to remember about life on the road aside from the odd liberation it brings.

Houston

So I'm here now. It sprawls as I remember it did, much like the other parts of Texas I've visited more recently, like Brownsville. One of the guys I was at dinner with suggested that anyone who'd been here more than 10 years should have bought a concrete plant since everything's a strip mall. It's strange to notice that new strip malls are being built without the old ones being completely full yet. Has strip mall occupancy echoed the .com era or the public's passing fancies where the newest and shiniest (storefront in this case) was the one to head towards, leaving the currently available and accessible resources unused?

Sprawl is about waste, unfortunately. More trash, more used space, just more, more, MORE. It is kinda sad that our nation is running down this track at a faster clip than it should be. Most likely, it's about the attention span that the populace has for the current "hot topic." Sprawl may have been the issue a few years ago, but now it's Anna Nicole, Britney, and hybrids. I'd mention Iraq, but that's been a constant for more than 6 months, so it's faded into the greenery in the minds of many. Besides, the news media, our lovely 5th Estate (or is it the 4th?) can sell more ads with bimbos than bodies, so Britney is at the top of the cycle, following Anna Nicole, Paris Hilton, and any other dimbette that you can name. Dimbette, though seemingly centered on women, actually applies to men as well like K-Fed or J-Lake or any male American Idol contestant. Unfortunately, the masculine of something like that just sounds like another female-oriented term, i.e. dimbo, and not something that is easily identified as gender-neutral. Perhaps it's compliment is the standard dimbulb, long a staple in my house for describing the questionable actions of my very loving and loveable but less than sharp dogs.

If there's a linguist out there who cares to weigh in, by all means, leave a comment.

Anyhow, time for bed, since I'll need to be on-site at 9 local time with breakfast at 8. Considering it's past midnight, I best get to steppin'.

How Much Can A Man Take?

This question is asked over and over in the course of Twelve O'Clock High regarding the limits of bomber pilots in the 8th Air Force in 1943. The movie and book of the same name are wonderful and a great historical compliment to both is Masters of the Air by Donald Miller.

Reading the Miller book is rather humbling for me having neither been in the military or seen combat. It reminds me that no matter what my problems are, none of them will result in me having a greater than 60% chance of being dead at the end of them.

Of course, the motivation to deal with these problems is a bigger issue. Admittedly, though many aspects of WWII were gruesome and brought out the worst in humanity, finding motivation to put everything they had into the cause of Victory was not, even if it meant almost certain death.

Again, humbling.

Not to Boston, but still Houston and Tel Aviv.

Tel Aviv in 2 weeks. Not going to Boston now and I admit I'm pretty happy about that.

Certainly, there'll be other places I'll have to go, and that's fine by me. Boston isn't among my top five places to go. Sure, I still know a few people there and have a relative or two, but it's just not where I want to be.

Rather be at Glacier Park, actually. Someday, maybe.

Eighteen Seconds

This is a really cool short flick by a team named Jack, Zac, and Mac. Apparently it's based on a short story by the male lead in it. It also stars Amy Waschke who was an intern and then in the Education department at the Seattle Repertory Theatre when I worked there in 1998-2000. As far as I know it has nothing to do with the Eighteen Seconds Before Sunrise album.

There have been several reviews at the DVX User forum, since it was shot with an HD camera and from what I read, it was almost selected for a film festival or two. There's a lot shoved into just under 6 minutes and it's well worth the time. I hope that Amy continues to find work both on stage and in film and that the creative team behind this also get their work into some festivals. I usually despise art films, simply because there's an arrogance that surrounds most of them which is perpetuated/aggrandized by those who feel only "art" films are "elevated" (i.e. the haven't sold out to The MAN (tm) and are "keeping it real") and the rest are for the plebes.

I, for one, enjoy being a plebian, at least as far as "films" are concerned. I will not watch a "film" that has an audience filled with drones who all have the vapid smiles of someone who thinks that by watching said film, there is suddenly a basis for condescension to those who were not basking in the glory of the latest Dadaist "feature" of slicing frog eyes. These are the same people who are content, nay, uplifted, when they speak out against injustices and get indignant in the company of like-minded people.

Preaching to the choir? You're too hardcore for me. Free exchange of ideas and learning via the Socratic method? Naaaaaaaaah, real movements in thought occurred straight from lockstep Rote-method learning! Reconvert those already converted! Enjoy the easy victories again and again and again!

These last few sentences sum up one of the cornerstones of Pacific Northwest political thought. It's a wonder that the Seattle area could even progress out of the "impact statement" phase of anything. Consensus building, while considerate, rarely accomplishes anything. Why does Portland have a pretty sweet transit system while Seattle still hasn't run a light rail train 11 years after approving it? The will of Neil Goldschmidt, former Mayor of Portland.

Goldschmidt has a pretty interesting past, summed up by this Willamette Week article. I had lunch with him and my Public Policy class as an undergrad and it was pretty darn cool. Unfortunately, as you can read in the WW article or this one, he apparently didn't have the best judgment as to whom he should have relationships with, professional or otherwise. Read more about him and decide for yourself whether or not his lasting legacy of the MAX in Portland offsets his interesting history as a lobbyist.

Neil may have been a bit shady in his dealings, but at least he got something done. Ron Sims? Squeaky clean and a whole lotta nothin' for 3 terms in King County.

Anyhow, watch the flick on your video iPod, laptop, whathaveyou, and think about how your relationships are and how they came about.

Sunny day and real estate

First sunny day in a while. Kinda forgot that the world was something other than grayscale.

I get to spend it cleaning the house (vacuuming, mopping, throwing out old food, etc.) and then raking the yard. Walking the dogs probably figures in there, too. Maybe I'll clean the garage. Gotta clear out the room in the basement and rip up the carpet to float the cement floor. On a lighter note, I get to spend the day by myself doing these things. Trading the labor for solitude is what's needed today.

Looks like I'll get most of the day.

As an aside, the Suicide Girls DVD is pretty darn good. Funny and hot alterna-chicks on it. The cool thing is that they convey that they genuinely like what they're doing and don't have a bad attitude while having "attitude". Apparently there's some controversy about them now d/t former Suicide Girls thinking that the group has sold out, but that was a while ago. Read on and decide:

the main site
a MySpace site with daily preview pictures.
The 2005 Wired story about the "controversy" (or as some in the news might say, "contoversy").

A nice wine reduction sauce....

It appears that my life's output/value has boiled down to three basic components:

1. My income.
2. My existence as tertiary parent (after my wife and the dogs).
3. My questionable decisions.
   

I've known this for a while. It stings like lemon juice.

Things I learned today....

• Anyone who said "It's about the journey, not the destination," never took commercial airlines to get to that destination. Ditto with the US "rail system" a/k/a Amtrak.
• From the Pacific NW, it takes a long time to fly anywhere interesting. Sure, we've got gorgeous scenery, ocean, mountains, and all things outdoors. However, if you just want to go someplace that actually looks different than it does around here, then you need to go a long way by plane or train.
• Very very very few flights across the USA are done in anything larger than a 757. Most are done in the "ultra-efficient" 737-700,-800, or -900. What does this mean? While new planes are nice, they are more and more adept at shoehorning more and more people in each plane as the airframe evolves. Accordingly, you get less space and are much less likely to get seated next to someone hot as you are the traveling salesman who's eaten once too many times at Applebee's or Garlic Jim's. Of course, if you're traveling with someone, then the chances of getting someone hot next to you go up. If you're traveling with child(ren), then substitute "cute" for "hot", since referring to your kid as "hot" probably doesn't go over well with strangers.

Why do I mention all of this nonsense?

I will be going to Houston, Boston, and then Tel Aviv all in the next 3 or so months. While the Tel Aviv trip will most likely have a 777 for the international portion, all the domestic flights will be on single-aisle jets for 4-6 hours at a shot. Ugh. The headphones can only cancel out so much noise from the person next to me who seems to have some sort of walrus-like breathing issue.

I like my personal space and prefer to share it only with those I invite into it. Airline travel basically invokes Imminent Domain and forces you into situations that normally would cause panic or at least erratic driving. Alas, though, this is the way of modern "convenience." Pack more in! More features, less space! Look at the Efficiency!

Ick.

I used to love flying, and part of me still does, although mostly the takeoff and landing routines. The strange contra-dance-like flight patterns at some of the airports can be fun, simply because of the things you see. Landings can be neat when the airport seems to come out of nowhere; landing at Oakland comes to mind where you come in over the Bay for a while then suddenly the runway pops up beneath the plane like someone pulling a pizza from the oven at a pizaa shop. That's pretty cool.

I've heard from my Dad and others that the landing pattern in Hong Kong is like that, only there are a lot more buildings involved. Same with Osaka, I think, if that's the one that's basically an airport that's 4-6 feet above sea-level on a man-made island.

Someone please correct me if I'm wrong.

Between the rally-driving that some of the approaches and takeoffs can be, well, there's about 4 hours of the flying equivalent of NASCAR. Yawn...left turn....yawn...slow right turn....yawn...meal service....yawn...whadda you mean $6 for this so-called sandwich?

Yeah, the sheen of flying's worn off. I don't even do it that much anymore. Guess I'm just on a trajectory to become a curmudgeon like Andy Rooney. Actually, there's no guessing.

I know it'll happen; I'm going to be a coot.

If The Onion didn't exist....

I'd have to think that the legacy of the National Lampoon that was (circa 1975-1982) had died forever. The so-called NL franchise that makes movies like Van Wilder is definitely not the same one as wrought Animal House and the Dacron Republican-Democrat, the parody of an Ohio Sunday newspaper. Classics abounded in that one like the local chain store, Swillmart, and its circular featuring "Last Supper Shower Curtains" featuring an "authentic" signature of Jesus H. Christ himself as well as drums of "snack paste" for only $1.49.

Since then there have been few articles that I feel that need to be sent around or disseminated, but this one is an incredible laugh for as compact as it is: Radical Islamic Extremists Snowboard Into U.S. Embassy.

Enjoy.

Ha! I'm not the only one with an unnatural weather fixation...

....who isn't already a meteorologist....

This gentleman has taken the accuracy of 10 weather forecasting sites to task. It's pretty cool how much detail he went into to figure out....that weather forecasts are all aboutstandard deviations, not accuracy.

http://www.omninerd.com/2007/02/08/articles/69

What do you fear most of all in the world?

"That love is not enough."

I don't know what movie that came from but it's a sample in an Apoptygma Berserk song and it frightens me more and more as my life goes on. It's a strange truth that one thing can sustain you but many things are needed for growth. Striving for success, money, wanting to take out all the best strikers in your soccer league and instill fear in others who come your way on the pitch when you're on defense -- each can be a personal motivator and one that drives you to do superhuman things. Eventually, though, everyone's got a threshold.

Discovering that threshold is tough; realizing you've passed it long ago can be demoralizing or debilitating. More so, asking the question "Is it worth it?" and dreading the answer you say back to yourself.

I can say that in some aspects of my life, I definitely blew by the thresholds and am now paying the price. With others, I seem to have pulled up from the terminal velocity dive in time to avert disaster only to realize the view was a lot better when I wasn't concerned about the details.

So, I guess that we all have our own personal El Guapos to face. Here's hoping that you can look yours straight in the eyes and not look back as you blew by, only to find that your pants caught a nail and have been unraveling for a hundred yards.

Things to do before I'm 40: #1

Ride this bad boy in Japan. Some think that the Lemur parks are better but I have more faith in Physics than I do in domestication of animals.....
Here's more about this monster with the 89 degree initial decline....there's video on this page, too.

"Cheney to Rolling Thunder...."

Bloody hell, I need one of these and a crowd of pseudo-intellectuals to use it on....

If only I could muster the legal defense fund.
http://www.specialopspaintball.com/articles/razorback.asp