and never brought to mind...

Happy Holiday-That-I-Couldn't-Possibly-Give-A-Smaller-Rat's-Ass-About, everybody!!

Dave

aftershocks...

The struggle to comprehend the magnitude of what has happened in Southeast Asia has led me to the reconfirm for myself the following...

There is no benevolent, all-knowing "God" who caused, or allowed, or even watched this happen. Maintaining such a belief in the face of a catastrophe of this magnitude is just... it requires a level of cognitive dissonance that I can't imagine anyone can honestly maintain.

By way of comparison... maybe 3000 people died on 9/11... maybe 1500 US and coalition dead in Iraq and Afghanistan... something like 15,000 Iraqi's and Afghani's dead in the past 3 years. The tsunami killed upwards of 100,000 people (who knows how many... the numbers seem to climb exponentially every time you read the news) in a span of a few hours. This should serve as a reminder. None of the horrible, stupid things that we humans do to one another... none of that matters in the long run. It doesn't begin to compare. The planet does not want us here.

We do not "belong" here in any sense of the word. No more so than the dinosaurs. Only an eggshell-thin crust separates us from the seething molten core of the Earth. The planet isn't even done cooking yet. The ground shakes, it leaks, it pulls apart under our feet. The skies are full of boulders the size of cities, and every astronomer knows that it's only a matter of time. The air we breathe hasn't always been here. It was made by plants and life and if we destroy enough of that life and upset the delicate balance of this world, it will just as happily return to an age when bacteria ruled the seas under a noxious sky. Earth doesn't need us.

The dinosaurs hung around for 100 million years or so before their time was up. We've been around for maybe 100,000... depending how hairy a fellow you want to count. Both numbers are an instant of geological time. Earth is 4.5 billion years old. It has maybe another 10 billion left before being swallowed whole by a cantankerous, red, worn out Sun. We think we run the show now. The dinosaurs probably did too. But scrape all the life off the planet during any epoch of history and toss it on a scale and you'll find that 99%+ of the weight is still bacteria. It always has been, and it probably always will be.

I'm not being a fatalist. I think it's important to recognize events like this as a reminder that life is precious and short... both our individual lives, and our lives as a species.... our presence in this universe altogether. Someday it will all be gone... it will all be rubble. And not just in Indonesia and Sri Lanka and Fallujah and Zabul... but in London and New York and Orlando and Paris and Cleveland. In a million years even the rubble might be gone. Car parts and bottles and cutlery... swallowed up again by the Earth like so many dinosaur bones.

This afternoon I'm sending $250 to the Red Cross. I don’t really know what else to do. The Earth doesn't need us, but we need each other, and a million people have just had their homes sucked into the Indian Ocean. Maybe I don’t really need that new dongle for my iPod or that satellite radio after all.

D.

"down on your knees," he commanded, throwing open his white robes...

I had a thought today. One of those thoughts you have and then immediately wish you hadn't. I'm going to assume that all you net savvy readers know what "slash fiction" is. Briefly, it's a subgenre of fan-fiction which involves placing favorite fictional characters into imagined encounters of a sexual nature. Usually two males. The original model for this kind of writing was Kirk/Spock, but it's no secret that Frodo and Sam have their following as well. And something got me thinking today... Frodo/Sam is easy... almost TOO easy... but the Tolkein universe does suggest some more... intriguing parings. The most obvious...

Saruman/Wormtongue

I mean really... think about it. All alone, in that tower. Saruman, so powerful... and Grima so... submissive. Just the way Grima LOOKS at him... you don’t need a palantir stone to see that Saruman is definitely bending Wormtongue over the throne at Orthanc a few times a month.

And you thought the name just meant he was a good liar!

D.

P.S: said fiction would by necessity include more than one double entendre involving the word "staff".

P.P.S: A diligent Google search will reveal the unfortunate truth that I am *not* the first person to whom this idea has occurred!

white(ish) xmas...

Snow? In Southtown?? Well... not quite. We missed by just a *few* degrees. We did have an hour or so of very festive sleet, though!

Xmas morn has come and gone. (It began at 5:30 AM!) A few nice gifts... no big "wow's"... more details tomorrow perhaps.

For now, Merry Xmas to anyone pitiful enough (or perhaps just Jewish enough) to be surfing the web on Christmas day!

i wouldn't exactly call it a "retraction" of my earlier stance, but...

... after my rant a few weeks ago about the pants, I have to say... these size 38's sure are comfortable. Plus, now I can eat as much as I want. Look how loose they are!! Pass the Doritos!!

essential girl geek accessory...

I was chatting with a female reader last night, about vibrators of all things, and I was recommending the wares at ""Toys in Babeland" (dot com) because... you know... the Doctor is all about helping his lady-friends get their freak on... and while discussing the matter and browsing the catalog, I actually learned a little something myself, which is - that they actually make and sell USB powered vibrators!

I don’t know what to say about that other than - I can imagine some truly awesome calls to tech support!

"Hello, this is Prakesh... what is dee nature of your problem...?
Ex-cuse me? Your what...?
Oh! Well... ummmm... Is it USB 2.0 compliant...?
I see. Have you tried restarting...?
No, no, no - I mean the computer...
I see. Yes, well... I don't...
What difference does it make what I am wearing?

Next up? The Firewire 800 vibe! Up to 100 times faster orgasm transfer rates!

Now just the Jews!! "Then one foggy Xmas Eve, Santa came to say..."

I was reading an article in the local paper this weekend about religion and public school. There is a local school board memeber who is putting together a legal team to study the question of just how MUCH religion can be legally tolerated in school, because he wants students to pray at the start of every day. More on him later.

The rest of the article discussed when can and can't be done in schools. You can pray, but the teacher can't tell you to pray. Or NOT to pray. You can draw a Nativity in art class, and a teacher can hang that on a wall, but the school itself can't display a public nativity. You can sing "traditional" songs, even ones that may have a religious element, as long as they are sung in the context of "cultural history"

And here is where we get a lovely quote from a local teacher about how she handles the issue in her class. (Imagine the Southern accent, it helps...)

"Well, I try to stick to songs like Frosty the Snowman, or Let it Snow, or Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, that way nobody has to feel left out."

Totally. Without. Clue.

After I picked up the pieces of my exploded head, I decided to write a letter to the editor about the school board member who wants to dust off daily school prayer. The letter will read...

"I think the idea of instituting a daily prayer is a wonderful idea. Maybe the students could pray for books. Or well paid teachers. Or that they will miraculously receive a proper education despite being stuck in the 48th-ranked state school system in the country. Or perhaps the school board would be better off trying to actually DO something to address these problems DIRECTLY instead of wasting their time making itself look even MORE foolish and assbackwards to the rest of the fucking country"

I might add that the letter is from an ATHEIST who is sending his children to a RELIGIOUS SCHOOL just to escape the fate of Alabama Public Education.

Medieval-minded assbackwards redneck idiots...

many thanks, and apologies..

... to the 40 or so people who came to my blog yesterday and got nothing in return. For a complete list of reasons why Dave is not currently blogging daily see below...

Dave is not blogging today. Instead he is...

1) Xmas shopping
2) Xmas wrapping
3) Spending 6 hours editing 30 seconds of video
4) Staring at his monitor hating his job
5) Constructing imaginary arguments with his boss
6) Celebrating his youngest child's 2nd birthday
7) Attempting to simultaneously nail and not-fall-off-roof
8) Occasionally thinking about the mountain of grading which hangs over his head.
9) Watching countless hours of DVD extras to "Return of the King"

I'm sure there are more. I'm trying. Really I am.

finally...

Lo! The playhouse roof is be-shingled!

And there was much rejoicing...

work weirdness...

I've mentioned that we're entering a bit of a crunch/deadline time here at work. We've also hired two new people - an office manager type and an audio engineer. And I think as a result of these two things, I was given a "reminder" yesterday of some official company policies. Specifically, no jeans at work... and be here until 5:00. I was also informed that the Boss is making a "huge exception" to the official policies by not getting on me about the ponytail. Yeah, well... you hired the ponytail, so...

I understand the reasoning behind it all, as the organization grows, "policies" become more important. Still it was weird. And it means I have to buy more FatPants.

And then not an hour later I was informed by the Boss (this time directly rather than through a surrogate) that he has gotten me an appointment to the Board of Directors of the local science museum. Which again... is just weird! But I think another reason for the dress-code crackdown. (Since I'm going to be taking on more "public" roles in the organization.)

So there is all this stuff going on, and then the WORK... ugh... this is the part I hate about media development. "Ok, we need you to migrate all your project files to the RAID, but that's going to break all the links within your projects, so you'll have to open all of them and relocate all your resources and resave your projects... then we want all the rough-cut stuff you're doing imported into THIS program for editing, not the program you've BEEN using, because the Boss like's doing it this way, even though it's the equivalent of using Photoshop as a word processor...

Ugh. Did I say that already?

So there is a lot of drudgery going on, which I have little patience for. Today I plan on firing up my new White Stripes concert DVD and letting it play on Monitor #2 while I move files and crap around on Monitor #1. Then at lunch, me and all the other geeks go on a pilgrimage to Best Buy to pick up "Return of the King". (The hours from 7:00 to 11:00 tonight are booked!)

So... that's today.

I re-read some of my old journal from Open Diary the other day... I used to be much more interesting than this!

time is on my side...

Well, the little one turns two in a few weeks. That means it's time to put an end to all this waking up at 4:45, 5:00 in the morning. How, you ask? By teaching him how to tell time.

Skeptical? Ha! We did it with our daughter when she was 2. Here's how it works. Buy an LED digital clock, and cover the "minute" digits with electrical tape. Now you have a clock that just shows the hour. Now say your kid wakes up at 6:35, and you want them to sleep until 7:00... grab a piece of paper and draw the following picture. On the left side of the paper, draw a large digital "6", and a picture of a child sleeping. Then on the other half of the paper, draw a digital "7", and a picture of a child who is awake and happy and smiling. Now, hang this picture on the wall over the clock and tell the child they can wake up when the clock says "7", but they have to go to sleep or rest quietly if it says "6".

Totally, totally works! Our daughter would be absolutely quiet until 7:00, then she would say "Mommy, it say se'm on my clock!" And the boy? Well, we've had to use a "5" and a "6" instead of six and seven, but still... it is totally working!!! I woke up at 6:05 today. SIX-O-FIVE!! You have to get yourself past the idea of 6:05 counting as "sleeping in" to grasp the importance of this, but I can assure you - THIS MAKES A HUGE DIFFERENCE.

Next step... slowly set his clock back 5 minutes a day until he's sleeping until 10:00!!

rocket boy...

Our 2 year-old son has decided he wants a rocket for Xmas. This kid can't even talk, but when he sat on Santa's lap, he made a rocket noise. So... we thought we were done shopping... now we have to buy a rocket.

I went to Toys 'R' Us today on my lunch hour, and the only two (age appropriate) rocket toys of any kind I could find were a Buzz Lightyear rocket and a Rescue Heroes Spaceship. The Rescue Heroes thing was ok... but the astronaut guy was really rude. He'd say things like - "Analyze THIS data!"

What the hell is that all about??

Anyway, you can tell that the space program is not what it used to be. Nobody wants to pretend to be an astronaut anymore.

in the words of the late, great tammy wynette - "i don’t want a play house"...

Ok... imagine a "playhouse" - you know... cute little pink gingerbready backyard playhouse. Got it? Now imagine one being constructed to comply with California earthquake-resistance building codes, and presided over by three snippy, argumentative perfectionists. In the rain. For four days. And you will have a tiny glimpse of the hell that has been my life for the past week.

And that's not even mentioning the SEVEN TRIPS to Home Depot, a.k.a. "The Store Where Time Stands Still."

And the thing about my wife's family is that NONE of them has a "pragmatic" bone in their body. They are ALL incapable of stepping back and looking at something and saying... "Hmmm... this isn’t going to get finished... let's come up with a Plan B to make the most of our time."

Oh no. Plan B? There is no Plan B. There is only stubbornness and stress and frustration and tantrums. Makes. Me. Crazy.

The house looks nice, though. Or it will... once we shingle it, paint it, install a door**, put railing around the porch, build some windows, screw down the deck boards, put down vinyl tile inside and carpet in the "loft"...

Getting the picture?

Dave

(** A "Dutch" door, of course.)

remember when it used to not suck?

For the second week in a row, a TiVo mishap has caused us to miss an episode of the West Wing. Two in a row!!

And the worst thing is? I really don’t care too much.

Time to dust off those "Sports Night" DVDs for another run.

you've got mail...!

Let me tell you, there is nothing that brightens up a dreary work day like getting a Goat skull in the mail...




...sometimes it is cool to be a scientist.

38... it's a size, not an age...

I did it. Ok? I did it. I was down four or five pounds, but nothing I do can combat the presences of the in-laws, which involves many restaurants and nearly constant baking... not to mention the Sudden Presence of Many Bags of Minty Holiday Candies. So the four pounds came back, then I ripped the knee out of my last-good-fitting-pair-of-jeans building this fucking playhouse (more on the playhouse later) and when my wife and I went on a date Saturday night, I had, quite literally, no pants to wear.

So I bought them...

Thirty...

Eight..

I don’t get depressed about losing my hair. I don’t get depressed about driving a boring car full of Cheerios and animal cracker crumbs. I don’t get depressed about the wrinkles or the odd gray beard hair. But the pants...

And it's not even so much the 38" as it is the Spectre of Forty. Because once you buy those 40" jeans - I'm sorry, but you are officially a Fat Guy... one of those guys whose belt buckle points DOWN and whose pants still somehow manage to defy the laws of physics and stay up. And I've been fighting it... oh, how I've been fighting it! Going to the gym, people... THE GYM. I don’t think words exist in the English language to describe the hatred I have for the gym. (The Germans probably have one. "Bikenvalkenhätzen" or something.) But apparently age 35 is another one of those metabolic milestones like 25 and 30. Once twenty-five hit, I could no longer eat an entire bag of Doritos daily without consequences. Once thirty hit, I said goodbye forever to the 34" jeans. And now, at age thirty-five? Bring out the Fat Guy Pants.

I suppose I should be happy that they are at least LOOSE. But still. Looking down the gaping maw of the Fat Pants as I was about to put them on this morning, I think I saw something at the end of those two dark denim tunnels. It was the last vestige of my youth.

conflict...

there is much to blog about.

and yet there is much work to be done.

and a great tiredness is upon us.

it will come soon enough.

dave is full of xmas cheer, among other things...

Christmas is upon us... and you know what that means? A naked 8 foot fir tree in the living room and giant plastic crates of decorations all over the damned house. What a wreck! Somehow we have to get the place semi-straightened out by the time the in-laws roll in this evening.

In the meantime, I have to go home at 10:30 to watch Kid #2 while the wife goes to Kid #1's school to read a story at storytime. (Don’t ask why *I* don’t just go read at school... it never occurred to us until the plans were already made. Draw whatever sexism conclusions from this that you wish.) And sometime during business hours we're getting a giant pallet full of lumber dropped of from Home Depot for the impending Playhouse Fiasco.

I would like to say more, but I'm having some digestive issues this morning. You can find me reading Isaac Newton's "Opticks" in the last stall in the men's room for the next several hours.

t'is the season...! for suicides, that is...

I realize I'm falling down on my duties of keeping all of my weblog readers entertained and amused... but lately I've just not had it in me. Then just this week, I've gone from this blob that kinda sits and stares blankly at the screen all day to this zippy-whirlwind of productivity. Neither is really conducive to blogging. The zippy-whirlwind state is preferable only because it makes the day go by MUCH faster!

A preview of what's coming up. Tonight, I believe there will be some Xmas tree shopping. Then I assume there will be some kind of decorating fiasco. This weekend, my inlaws arrive for 4 or 5 days. My wife's Dad will be building us a playhouse in the backyard, which I'm certain will get completely out of control and provoke at least one (more likely 2) crying fits from my wife. Then it will sit unpainted and shingle-less in our backyard for months waiting for us to finish it.

By the time they are gone, it will December 8th. I must then finish teaching my online class by the 10th, finish my work project by the 15th, finish grading by the 20th and finish Xmas shopping by the 24th.

Oh, yeah... and lose 16 more pounds.

Speaking of which... my neck didn't hurt nearly as much today as I expected, so I went to the gym and proceeded to pull a muscle in my left arm so badly that I couldn't pick up my gym bag 5 minutes later. I thought all this crap was supposed to be GOOD for me?