| "Congress shall make no law... abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press..." |
| "Congress shall make no law... abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press..." |
Ten years ago this month (April 1, 1998, to be precise), I got hit with the Chernobyl virus. It wiped out my hard drive's partition table and boot blocks, leaving me with the computing equivalent of a cement block on my desk.
I had been experimenting with Slackware Linux, even getting to the point of having a dual-boot system via AUTOEXEC.BAT and the LOADLIN.EXE Linux loader. But when the partition table got zapped, I made a draconian decision:
NO MORE MICROSOFT WINDOWS FOR ME!
I had seen enough of Linux to be impressed, from the pure 32-bit environment to the system's stability in the face of program naughtiness. Microsoft couldn't make any such claim in Windows 95. I knew that, with such credentials and effort behind Linux, it wasn't going away anytime soon.
The next day, I re-installed Slackware Linux, but this time on my entire hard drive. No Microsoft Windows. None! No safety net, no fancy GUI to hide all the registry options, no programmer in Redmond telling me what I wasn't allowed to do. I had "cast off the bow-lines" and bravely sailed into new waters.
The first few days were tough. I had to re-configure my X server (this was before XFree86 supported monitor detection) and get my Internet dial-up to work again. Then I fired up the Lynx browser and re-downloaded the latest Netscape browser for Linux. Being in the countryside, the best dial-up I could get was 28.8Kbps, and that was on a good day. It usually connected at 26.4Kbps. Either way, the Netscape download still took well over 2 hours.
Since that day, I've seen Linux get better, with:
Two years later, I had done so much with Linux (even ran a web server through dial-up, just because I could), that Mom asked me to build her a Linux system for Christmas. I actually tried to talk her out of it, but when she pointed out the support would be easier with fewer crashes and BSOD's than Windows, well, she convinced me. I put some old parts together, put Mandrake Linux 6 (now Mandriva) on it, and taught her as much Linux as I could during Christmas vacation. She's gone through a few hardware upgrades, and switched to Fedora 8, but she's still using Linux.
Two weeks ago today, I set Dad up with a Linux system. Mom had turned off his laptop to clean it, not knowing that the shutdown would be the laptop's last. So I donated my IBM Thinkpad 660X to the cause, setting it up to boot automatically into XFCE and launch Gnome's Aisleriot solitaire program. It's the only thing he does on the laptop, but for the man who made sure I had food and clothes growing up, I'm glad to help provide his entertainment. And I'm happy to use Linux to do it.
My brother is the only one not using Linux, because his cell phone model is explicitly not supported for anything except Windows and MacOS. Still, he tries to be careful about his web surfing, so he uses the Opera web browser and the Privoxy web firewall.
Actually, it's "Lisp hacker," thanks to funky English phonetics. And I'm not really a hacker in Lisp, but more of a script kiddie (def. 2).
My parents recently got two replacement computers, Mom on her desktop and Dad for his Solitaire machine. Both are running Linux with the GNOME desktop. However, Mom's system is Fedora 8, while Dad's is Slackware 12.0. They both like to play the Klondike version of Solitaire, but the rules weren't to their liking. Specifically, they wanted one-card deals and no limits on re-deals.
The Solitaire rules for AisleRiot are stored as Scheme files in the directory $SHARE/share/gnome-games/aisleriot/games/klondike.scm. Well, Scheme is a dialect of Lisp, and I have a couple books on Lisp...
Their games now work as desired, but the fixes were different between the two machines. Having a modicum of exposure to Lisp made it a lot easier.
Yes, I admit it, I've watched Lindsay Lohan go from awkward teen queen to troubled former-child-star adult, trying to decide what image she wants to project to the public. After the debacle of Herbie: Fully Loaded, she tried to shed some pounds, going with the flat-chested runway model look for a while. She tortured her body for a "look" that was unnatural for her, all while the paparazzi chased her and the tabloids mocked her. I felt sorry for her.
Well, the curvy Ms. Lohan has returned, and what an entrance! She is Bert Stern's figure of choice for a tribute to Marilyn Monroe's Last Sitting (caution: nudity). Without assumptions, without reservation, Lohan draws on Stern's direct knowledge of Monroe's last known modeling session to create a suitable first page to a new chapter in her life.
I got a new phone today, an Alltel Hue made by Samsung. It has lots of "features," some of which I may actually start using, but the main reason I got it was to make the leap to EVDO.
After an interminable nine hours at work, I finally got to try out my new toy on my Linux desktop. I opened up the system log, plugged in the data cable to the phone, then carefully plugged it in to the USB hub. Lo and behold, Linux recognized the device and loaded the same driver (CDC ACM) that my old Motorola V262 used. Emboldened with this knowledge, I clicked my dial-up button without changing any configuration at all. It worked!
Actually, "worked" is an understatement. It screams. My downloads run about 7 times faster on EVDO than on 1X, so I can download an ISO image sometime this week. The latest Knoppix image was estimated at an hour and 22 minutes.
Now I can watch all those chintzy 80's music videos on YouTube without completely downloading them first!
Several years ago, I had a pony-tail. Having lived in California, I could wear it in the summer, but once I returned to the Midwest, I knew it wouldn't be tolerable in the summer humidity. Fortunately, the pony-tail provided an opportunity to counteract a six-year-old's sexism.
I did a little computer consultation for a family friend and her step-daughter. Both their computers had accumulated too much crap-ware, and were bogged down as a result. It was just a standard, take-a-look and uninstall-lotsa-packages sort of deal.
Afterwards, while I was explaining the situation and my remedy, my friend's step-daughter's son came up to me and asked, "Why is your hair so long? Only girls wear long hair."
I replied, "Because I'm smart."
He said, "Huh?"
I said, "I make computers work, and sometimes when they break, I fix them. I have to be smart to do that. That's why I have long hair."
He could only give me a quizzical look at this seeming non-sequitur. I pointed to his sister and continued:
"See her long hair? She's smart, too."
Instantly, she went from playing with some cars on the floor, to "He said I'm smart!" It was an incredible affirmation for a girl who was just barely learning to read.
I found out later that she was adopted, and her birth parents were, shall we say, less than ideal. The self-esteem and emotional issues were a work-in-progress at the time. My comment was one of the few times in my life that I got the timing just right.
Recently, someone posted a YouTube video showing what happens when the super-user issues the dreaded "rm -rf /" command on a Ubuntu system. I was describing it to my mother, who has lived with my geekiness for 35 years:
Me: "Do you know what happens when you delete all the files on a Linux system?"
My Geeky Retired Mom: "You don't get a C: prompt, do you?"
Haw haw haw! Good one, Mom!
It hasn't been too bad so far. I've had just the one headache, no jitters, no attitude problems (well, more so than usual), and no cravings. If I'd known it would be this easy, I would have done it a lot sooner.
I've decided to end my caffeine usage of 3-1/2 years. No more coffee, no more Mountain Dew™ or its knock-offs, no more Full Throttle™, and sadly, no more green tea.
I actually stopped last Saturday, but this evening I got a mild headache (possibly psychosomatically induced) and broke down. Headaches are rare for me, and I try to avoid taking any drugs when they happen. However, given the circumstances, a small cup of weak coffee took care of it for the short term.
I know, what kind of geek am I? How can I process caffeine into code without caffeine? Well, I was a geek for 25 years without caffeine, and I can be one once again. Besides, coding isn't the only way to be a geek; my understanding of system internals is great for testing and bug reporting.
May it be my hap to cease this passion for caffeine.
I don't generally like the questionnaires that get passed around, and I certainly don't engage those who pass their questionnaires to me. This list, via Spiced Sass, isn't so specific that it can nail my identity. It's that "anonymity" thing.
Why do you blog? Sometimes I think I might have a unique thought. Just like everyone else.
What has been your best blogging experience? Setting up the blog itself, programming the multiple CSS themes, and generally being satisfied with the TypePad application interface.
Who are your intellectual heroes? Thomas Jefferson, for his work on the Declaration of Independence. Ayn Rand, for exposing the true nature of Communism.
What are you reading at the moment? Nothing. I used to read in bed, but now I surf the Internet until the wee hours. I do most of my research online.
Who are your cultural heroes? Benjamin Franklin and the Founding Fathers, for their understanding of how societies form and evolve.
What is the best novel you've ever read? Les Misérables by Victor Hugo. A close second is the incredulous Life of Pi by Jann Martel.
What is your favorite poem? The first scene with Friar Laurence in Romeo and Juliet (II, iii). Friar Laurence understands his pupil, and Romeo trusts his mentor.
What is your favorite movie? It's a tie between Beauty and the Beast and Forrest Gump.
Who is your favorite composer? I don't really have a favorite, but I enjoy listening to Beethoven and the 19th century Romantics of northern and eastern Europe.
Can you name a major moral, political or intellectual issue on which you've ever changed your mind? The belief that Christianity and capitalism are mutually hostile. I see them now as mutually compatible through indifference.
What philosophical thesis do you think it most important to disseminate? The freedom of conscience, conversation, and contradiction as embodied in the First Amendment.
What philosophical thesis do you think it most important to combat? The notion that chaos and anarchy are natural human tendencies, and law and order must be imposed by force.
Can you name a work of non-fiction which has had a major and lasting influence on how you think about the world? The Orthodox Study Bible, New Testament and Psalms.
If you could choose anyone, from any walk of life, to be President, who would you choose? I wouldn't wish that upon my worst enemy!
What would you do with the UN? Abolish it, or at least remove it from the United States. Most of the UN's member states abhor every fundamental of our Constitution.
Do you think the world (human civilization) has already passed its best point, or is that yet to come? The best is yet to come, but the cultural inertia of the nay-sayers will incur tremendous cost before we can truly enjoy the improvements.
What would be your most important piece of advice about life? Some things aren't worth knowing.
Do you think you could ever be married to, or in a long-term relationship with, someone with radically different political views from your own? If the views are so different that the only conversation we can have is about the weather, no.
What do you consider the most important personal quality? Intellectual discernment.
What personal fault do you most dislike? Over-intellectualism.
Do you have any prejudices you're willing to acknowledge? I strongly dislike "urban culture." It seems entirely too willing to live down to stereotypes.
What is your favorite proverb? "Every silver lining has a cloud."
If you were to relive your life to this point, is there anything you'd do differently? I'd be more adventurous. It's amazing how many times I've gotten sidetracked, distracted, or persuaded to throw caution to the wind, and I've survived them all. Looking back on my life so far, I've done some pretty incredible things, but over-caution has taken its toll, too much.
Where would you most like to live (other than where you do)? Where I am is fine. I came back for a reason, you know.
What would your ideal vacation be? This coming Monday. Heck, every Monday!
What talent would you most like to have? The ability to ad-lib on an instrument. I admire how some people can roll out a melody just like they were talking.
What would be your ideal choice of alternative profession or job? Photographer.
Who is your favorite comedian or humorist? The great ones of the 50's and 60's who got laughs without resorting to potty humor.
Who are your sporting heroes? I have none. The media have hidden them too well, in preference to the scandals and the thugs.
If you could have one (more or less realistic) wish come true, what would you wish for? Hyperspace travel, or at least warp drive.
How, if at all, would you change your life were you suddenly to win or inherit an enormously large sum of money? I'd pay my family's bills, buy a bell tower for my church, and put the rest into a trust.
A few years ago, I "reviewed" a "novel" on here. It was actually a novel that was bouncing around in my head. I used the "review" to gauge reaction to the idea, but I set it aside when a novelist friend point out I was doing it more as a screenplay than novel.
It just occurred to me that I might be able to actually write that novel, using this (or an alternate weblog) to get the chapters out.
Update 2007-07-16: I just looked at the chapters I wrote. I think I'll let it die the peaceful death it needs.
I just spent four hours surfing Wikipedia.
Four hours.
You don't suppose it's an addiction, do you?
To my loyal reader(s):
My apologies for having said nothing over the past week. I just haven't had much to say. I'd rather say nothing than force myself to say something lame. Even on Memorial Day, I had nothing unique to offer.
Dumb question: How lame is it to say, "I have nothing to say"?
When I think of something profound, I promise I'll put it on here.
Hi, folks.
Sorry I've been so quiet these past few days. I lost a friend and mentor of sixteen years last Friday.
He was an artisan, specializing in Eastern Orthodox iconography and calligraphy. At one time, he had been a blacksmith, but his knees eventually gave out on him, leaving him unable to stand for more than a few minutes at a time. He also had some experience with woodcarving, and was an excellent cook.
When my marriage fell apart, and I crawled back to my hometown with my tail between my legs, it was on his shoulder that I finally let loose all the agony and self-loathing that was pent up inside. He was good with words, but he had a keen sense of expression that understood how much more valuable a hug could be.
He had a major stroke last Tuesday night, leaving his right side paralyzed. It was a blessing that he, as an artisan, was not left long to live without the use of his better hand.
When his soul finally departed, he was surrounded by family and friends of this life, praying that the holy angels would stand guard around him in the next.
One of the things we pray for in the Orthodox liturgy is "a Christian end to our lives, peaceful, without shame and suffering, and for a good account before the awesome judgment seat of Christ." I believe he was granted the former, and soon we will pray that God grant him the latter as well.
Sic semper vita. Thus always is life. But that doesn't mean I have to like it, or approve of it.
I didn't think I'd ever do this.
I need a little propping up this month. I've lost two days of work this week, and the only thing between me and deeper debt is steady work.
I try to provide a nice mix of thinking and whimsy here, always unique (as far as I can tell), but I have no intention of making a living with my writing. That's why it's the tip jar, for leaving a little bit in return for the little bit of help I may have given someone. Judging by the search engine referrals I get on theology, science, and social comment, I've given a little help to a lot of people in the past couple months.
Grant remission of sins, Lord, to all our fathers, brothers, and sisters who have departed before us in faith and the hope of the Resurrection, and make their memory eternal.
Thus always goes life: the prince and the pauper, the infant and the patriarch. No strength prevents death, "the way of all flesh."
And so it has become for my uncle Thomas, a man larger than life. He was, in every sense of the phrase, "master of his domain and lord of all he sees." He worked in the coal mines while he and his wife raised four boys, each one a handful in his own way. Last year saw their Golden Anniversary celebration in their tiny little hometown in the hills.
The end of his life was not peaceful, but it was merciful.
I've been working at the company where I worked three years ago. This time around, I've been mostly in a different department, but it's starting to look like I'll be returning to my original spot soon. Unless we get more work, I may end up staying "farmed out" until after Christmas.
Trouble is, with three years passed, many little changes have added up to a job I can no longer do without re-training. Everything old is shuffled, re-cast, and stood on its head.
To commemorate the 50th anniversary of my workplace, all employees received an unusual gift: a beer mug. The mug itself isn't that unusual, except that its made of hard, non-ferrous, silvery-tone metal. What makes this gift unusual is the instructions that came with it. Yes, instructions.
One of my co-workers called the instructions How to Make Your Commemorative Mug Beer-Friendly. It contains bits of beer wisdom such as:
Two of my co-workers are just out of high school, getting ready to ship off to college, and they aren't even old enough to drink. I guess they'll have a couple years to make sure their mugs are very, very friendly, right?
Congratulations to my parents on forty-six years of marriage!
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I went back to work where I was three years ago, before I returned to California. I guess someone put in a good word for me; the supervisor was glad to have me back. This time, I'm on daytime shifts, instead of midnights. It was OK to work those weird hours before, but it did exact a toll on my mind and body. Given the choice, I think I'll pass on that this time.
Finally, I'll have a ca$h flow again.
I just came from an anointing service, where my knee was healed.
Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever and to ages of ages. Amen.
Check 'em out. I'd say they're not bad, for a rank amateur with low-end equipment.
I just fulfilled a dream I've had for twenty-seven years. I captured some incredible lightning strikes on (digital) film.
It's still storming here, and I'm stuck with a laptop using a half-drained battery. The images require some post-processing, so uploading them will have to wait until tomorrow.
I've had too much going on lately, and it's affecting the blogging. So, for a break, tonight I'm going to hang out with my brother, and maybe even watch the South Park "Cartoon Wars" episodes back to back. You know, the ones with the censored Mohammed!
(If you want to see what was censored, check Bareknucklepolitics. Or, it might be what was censored. Even if it's fake, it's very much in keeping with the spirit, animation, and attitude of the episode.)
Update 11:56pm: They still wimped out. A second chance to do the right thing, and they threw it away.
This household saw a lot of action this week.
Mom is in the recovery stage of lung cancer. One of the things her doctor wants is follow-up chemo, to get rid of any straggling micro-tumors that may have migrated in her body. Well, this week brought an abrupt end to the current course of treatment, as her chemo caused an allergic reaction which sent her into anaphalactic shock and spiked her pulse and blood pressure. Fortunately for her, she doesn't remember any of the worst of it, as the hospital staff gave her an emergency dose of Benadryl and sedatives. Her doctor barely took his eyes off her and the monitor while he gave orders. One of the nurses kept a running log of everything on a paper towel, until it could be entered into the proper patient records after Mom was out of danger. They ended up admitting her for overnight observation, and she came home the next day.
Mom doesn't remember much of it, after she went into shock, and what she does remember is very jumbled. She doesn't even remember who was visiting in her room at the same time. I filled in a lot of gaps later, so she could better understand the sequence of events.
It's interesting to look back and really think about the numbness in my own mind. We came very close to losing her. The fright is something I know I will have to experience at least once more in my life; I hope it is no more than that. Watching my own mother struggling for each breath really confirmed for me that I did the right thing by moving back.
Of all the stupid things...
I lived in California for two years, and caught just one wimpy cold. It knocked out my voice for two days, but otherwise left me feeling just a little off-kilter.
Barely two weeks after moving back to Ohio, I've picked up a brutish head cold. My throat is scratchy, my nose itches, my eyes are dry, and my ears feel plugged. A lesser man from California would be knocked off his feet, but Not Me! I'm a manly Ohio man!
Yeah, that and $0.75 will get me a cuppa joe.
I did something today for the first time in my thirty-some-odd years. It's something I won't soon forget, even if I don't remember the exact date. (Three cheers for weblogs and timestamps.)
Dad wanted to spend some time at a nearby wildlife refuge. Usually, Mom goes with him, but she didn't feel up to it today, so I went along instead. After doing a lot of catch-up housecleaning this morning, I knew it would feel good to get away and rest for a while.
This refuge is in the middle of nowhere, in northern Ohio. The area is very provincial, being mostly farmland and woods. The roads through the refuge are little more than dirt paths between ditches. It has dozens of ponds and a reservoir, to strengthen the variety of wildlife.
As we drove along, we saw several smaller birds, including geese, swans, and sparrows, as well as a kestrel and several hawks. While I was still soaking in the incredible riches of the refuge, Dad told me to look towards the woods to see what we had hoped to see. Sure enough, there it was: a bald eagle. And then another one, probably the other half of the same nest.
I tried to take some photos of the eagles in flight, but all I managed to get were a few shots of a large black spot being chased away by some smaller black spots.
When I was in elementary school, we heard over and over that the bald eagle was in danger of extinction, because of hunting, DDT, pollution, and deforestation, and that it might become extinct in my lifetime. After seeing three nests today, including one that was about 150 yards away from a house, I don't think the eagle population is in danger any longer.
I had lunch with someone famous today, a regular Silicon Valley living legend. He talked with me about his life, he asked about mine, and he gave me some very good advice. It was incredible to sit in a restaurant with a man who had such an impact on my life.
And that's all he'll let me say. I didn't think he'd let me do any bragging.
(No comments on this entry. To protect privacy, there will be no discussion about this.)
Some twit named "scott" wrote on Baldilocks's blog:
For all you people who think Cindy Sheehan is such a piece of trash, why don't you call up your local recruiter and join up? How about putting your keypads where your mouths are?
I've been there and done that and Cindy Sheehan has lost a child and has all the right in the world to do what she is doing. What has any of your sacrificing been? Slapping a magnetic YELLOW ribbon on your SUV I bet.
And I just love it when you rightwingers use civil rights to make your points, when it is clear how you really feel by your actions.
Sorry, that should have been "pathetic twit named 'scott'." He's just re-hashing the same old rejoinder, without a true original thought. He's no Camille Pgalia, that's for sure.
He just doesn't know anything about me, does he? He doesn't know that I tried to enlist in 1992, but was turned down because of my medical history. He also doesn't know that my father and grandfather are both veterans, two friends are veterans, one is an Army Ranger, and one of my veteran friends has a son gearing up for Iraq and another about to enlist.
Neither does he know that I don't have an SUV, or a yellow ribbon magnet. But I do have my Constitutional rights, the same rights we're trying to bring to Iraq and Afghanistan, and I have given support to the soldiers who are fighting in ways I'm not allowed to. I am grateful to the soldiers, in ways Cindy Sheehan right now finds impossible. She's still an ungrateful cowardly broad, and she proves it every time she opens her mouth or types on a keyboard.
Bite me, "scott."
(Via Pajamas.)
The Jawa Report, Michelle Malkin, Internet Haganah, and the FBI brought down a terror wanna-be. Vigilant citizens at their finest, and the Associated Press picked the story up immediately.
Oh? They didn't? What's their top story?
Oh well.
Side note to the ACLU, CAIR, and other terrorist sympathizers: This was practically in my parents' back yard. Don't you dare suggest that we don't need surveillance of foreign nationals. Our Constitution cannot be construed to defend outsiders who come here to do murder.
H/T: Spotted on Little Green Footballs.
My life has moved in lurches, jerks, and yanks recently, and it's going to get worse before it gets better. I realized about a month ago that the priorities I had two years ago are not the priorities I have now. As a result, my life will be taking a new direction next month.
It's odd how my life stages are so strongly delimited. Any event I remember from my life is in the context of where I lived and where I worked. Those two things, put together, always give me a fairly narrow time frame. That may be something else that's about to change.
In the meantime, I've added another blogroll link: Pull Up a Chair and Call the Cat a Bastard. Warning: she's one of those. Yeah, one of those. Eewwwwwwww! If you want, just pull a "reverse-Playboy": read it for the pictures.
Last year I said I said I would stick to the same resolution as the year before: 1024x768. I didn't keep it; I'm using 1600x1200 right now.
So this year, I think I'll resolve to make no resolutions.
Hmmmm, two years in a row that I broke my resolutions. What's the point?
I'm back! I had a splendiferous Christmas visit with my family. It's the best Christmas together since I-dunno-when.
About the title: This morning, I was listening to Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, when I was served a Special K breakfast by a flight attendant who was a dead ringer for Lindsay Lohan. It was a pleasant interruption to a sad trip back to California.
Didn't your heart break for poor Karen when Frosty melted in the greenhouse?
I don't know where this came from, but here it is:
Just a few minutes ago, I heard Cindy Sheehan re-hash for the n-thousandth time that, "For whatever reason, the universe picked me..."
The first thought that went through my mind: "Yeah, and earlier today, I picked my nose."
What do Clifford the Big Red Dog, Tom and Jerry, and drills have in common? They were all part of my root canal this morning.
I initially intended to get the root canal without the television's assistive distraction. However, about 3/4 through the initial dose of Novocaine, I got a sudden and strong tickle in my throat. I made a commotion to tell the dentist "get the needle out of my mouth!" and when she finally did, I started coughing hard.
By the time I stopped coughing, I was shaking pretty bad. I could barely hold the cup of water still. That's never happened to me at a dental appointment.
Once I calmed down, the dentist turned on the TV, which was tuned to the Cartoon Netowrk. So, we watched an episode of Clifford, followed by a whole hour of Tom and Jerry. They showed two of my favorites, both involving classical music: "The Cat Above and the Mouse Below," in which Tom sings "Rigoletto"; and "Cat Concerto," in which Tom plays the Hungarian Rhapsody no. 2, with "help" from Jerry.
Net result: a root canal, a temporary filling, and a prescription for Vicodin. Could I get busted for PUI?
"It isn't worth 2,000 soldiers' lives."
I have heard that, or some variation, too many times, from people who are fundamentally opposed to freedom. To anyone who has ever said this about Iraq or Afghanistan, this post is for you. I have some questions for you.
Have you ever asked a soldier about the cost of freedom? You know, the freedom you have to stand there and protest. Yeah, that freedom. Who do you think guarantees that?
Have you been to Iraq? No? OK, how about Afghanistan? No? Hmmmm. Do know someone who has? I do. I know someone else (also a veteran) who is about to send her son to Iraq. I can speak for them, because I know what they've told me. How many soldiers have you talked to?
Now, one more question. Pay attention, because this is the big one.
What makes you think you have any moral right to tell the soldiers that freedom in Afghanistan and Iraq is not worth their lives?
If you dare to put those words into my friends' mouths, while refusing to let them speak for themselves, then you are doing the same thing that the Taliban, al-Qaeda, and Saddam Hussein did for years. You are denying their free speech.
And that, in a nutshell, is why I have zero respect for you and your ilk. You are hypocrites, through and through.
Update 2005-11-08 19:27 PST: I see you reading this, and I see the discussion elsewhere. Why not go ahead and post a comment? I do support Free Speech, in case you didn't notice.
Someone asked, "Since when [does] questioning war make you 'fundamentally opposed to freedom'?"
I have no problem with questioning war. I have no problem with people who don't like President Bush.
I have a definite problem with people who have us leave Iraqis to defend themselves against Iran and Syria. I have the same problem with people who use their right to dissent in defense of a man who regularly murdered dissenters. People who say we never should have removed Saddam Hussein from power, are fundamentally opposed to freedom.
(The same poster went on to say, "Some REAL soldier oughta kick that guys ass." Good luck with that, considering that my soldier and veteran friends, and even the VFW post next door to my office, are all grateful for my support.)
Update 2005-11-08 19:40 PST: And to the soldier who is asking, and answering, the question: "Is your life worth the benefit of the war in Iraq?" You have the moral right to ask, and answer, that question. The people who have asked me that question do not have that moral right. They are not soldiers, never have been, have never had family in the military, and yet they are the ones daring to tell me what is worth your life. BS. Only you can tell me that.
I'm sitting through one of the most boring, poorly-handled corporate presentations of my life. These people are not communicating!
Let's see where this goes.
Five Angry Liberals I'm Glad I'm Not
Five Disconnected Liberals I'm Glad I'm Not
Five Anti-Semitic Liberals I'm Glad I'm Not
I just got back from a week-long vacation. I managed to surprise my parents for their 45th anniversary. With a little help from my friends (my brother and another friend), I showed up, unannounced, as a special gift to Them Who Raised Me.
I wasn't sure how well the surprise (shock) would be received, but all was well. All the planning and preparation got the payoff in the amazed looks on their faces.
Why their 45th? I had the means and the opportunity. I'm not sure how many more opportunities I will have.
My wireless is finally working, both at work and at home.
Add to that finishing the company website re-design, and the weekend wasn't all bad.
Almighty Lord, we know the life in Jesus Christ. We know that Your will is that we live in You. Please give Terri Schindler that life. Save her from those who would destroy her. Give her Your forgiveness, which she is no longer able to ask. And when her time here finally ends, welcome her with Your outstretched arms into the joy of Your resurrection.
It's finally happening. After a year of being in tech support (officially, and unofficially just carrying out orders), I'm picking up on the cues from customers' emails.
Let's just say I've answered, without assistance, two emails from a new DB admin who is trying to learn our product. This guy works for a Very Large Company, and is probably no slouch when it comes to understanding system matters. Still, our product does bend a few assumptions and break a few others, so it takes some time to get a handle on it.
In the two "help!" emails he's sent so far, I've correctly deduced the problem at hand. Hopefully, this will translate into an even better reputation for us.
I've started getting up a half hour sooner than my usual, in order to take a walk around the block. Let's see if it makes a difference in a week or two.
Sayonara, Tatsuya. If you're going to resort to the same old tired "Bush stole the election!" claptrap, I guess I can do without your comic. That's really too bad, because it has a fun, edge quality. But I won't be giving you hits if you insist on repeating the unfounded insults from the left-wing nutjobs.
I used heaping scoops of coffee instead of gently rounded. This seems to be a better flavor. Not bad for a Big Lots batch. I've never heard of the Safari Morning brand, but then again I'm not really picky.
I just got a coffee maker. My first ever. And I just made my first pot of coffee. First impression: I need practice, or an additional scoop.
Why am I blogging this? I have no idea. Maybe it just seems like one of those things that I should type something about, given the "first time" nature of the occasion.
And for this I paid $150/year to TypePad. Yay, capitalism.
There's simply no other word for it.
If you count Thursday and Friday as part of the weekend, it made for a very long weekend indeed. Since Christmas fell on a Saturday, the official company holidays were Thursday and Friday. The preparations for Christmas began Thursday evening, with the Royal Hours. From that point forward, every morning and evening had a church worship service until this morning.
And each service had readings from Luke about Jesus' infancy. Everything from His birth, through the shepherds and the Magi, the flight into Egypt, the murder of the innocents, and the re-settlement in Nazareth.
One verse kept leaping out at me: "And suddenly, there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.'" How much we need that, right now. Not the peace that is forced on those who surrender before an overpowering foe, but a peace of acceptance and understanding.
We had both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day services. The Christmas Eve vigil was trying, in that I had taken a stroll during the afternoon, and my ankles had blisters. However, during the stroll, I took a photo of the church's dome, between two evergreen trees. The sun had set, and the light was low. Perhaps the dome will shine, perhaps not. But having a picture of "St. Nicholas dome, Christmas Eve 2004" will be a special treat.
After the Christmas Day liturgy, the priest and his wife ("Matushka" Joan) held their annual Christmas party. The menu is English food, but in keeping with an Orthodox fast-breaking. What a spread! There were three distinct courses: main, dessert, and fruits and cheeses. Plum pudding, complete with the flaming brandy. Peach torte. Yorkshire pudding. On and on and on. Nobody left hungry, to say the least.
Throw into this several Russians and a Belgian, two small children, and the priest's Greek wife who prepared most of the food, and you have all the makings of a good Christmas party.
And what would it be without Christmas carols? Father brought out his guitar, and we sang several carols, including some in their original French, German, or even Russian (of course). Oh yes, and he even did a short dramatic reading of the plum pudding scene from Dickens' "A Christmas Carol".
However, for me, there was a particularly special point to the evening. I saw the various adult beverages that were available, and made mention to Father of a wine that I had encountered while I was studying overseas. It was very sweet and thick, almost like it was made of raisins, and it would coat the sides of a glass almost like an oil. When I said it was "Pedro Ximenez 1929," Father said, "Oh, like this?" and pulled out a bottle of Pedro Ximenez Alvear 2000. I stood there, flabbergasted. He even poured me a small glass, and let me savor a smell and taste that I had not encountered for 17 years. Oh, the memories it brought back! Such a carefree and yet trying time of my life, when I learned so much about myself and the world.
Rather than drive home in the late hour traffic, I instead borrowed the choir director's cot in the church office. It was amazingly comfortable and warm, for being only 3" thick.
At 4:00am I woke up and decided to drive home, so I could change clothes and clean up some. (And also check e-mail, naturally.) While I was home, I turned on the radio and heard in the local news that the Greek Orthodox metropolitan of San Francisco, Bishop Antony, had entered eternal rest on Christmas Day. He had been diagnosed with a fast-spreading form of cancer just before Thanksgiving. Not knowing if Father had received this news, I passed a note to him during Divine Liturgy this morning. It was good that I did, because he had not heard, and this enabled him to insert memorial prayers after the sermon.
As you can see, this weekend was full, of celebration, remembrance, and reminders. It was everything Christmas could be.
A friend in the military told me that, for overseas soldiers, Christmas parties are mandatory. Soldiers are not allowed to sit in the barracks, wallowing in misery while they're away from their families. It makes sense. Armed with that knowledge, I made my participation in the Christmas festivities mandatory for myself, hoping that it would be an adequate distraction from spending my first Christmas away from my own family. Little did I know how my church family would step forward and keep the celebration in my own holiday.
We had a pretty good rehearsal today. Considering everyone was wound as tightly as watch-springs, and the bride-to-be lost her lunch, and the younger kids were giggly beyond control, I'd say the fact that nobody killed anybody else is a pretty good sign.
My brother is soooooo ready for this. They've been engaged for almost three years. I've talked to him lots, and the past three days seen him face-to-face, and he seemed cool as a cucumber. But today, while he was standing next to the priest, I could see real excitement in his eyes. I haven't seen this much sparkle in him in a long time.
God grant you many happy years together, Matt and Connie!
It's times like this that bog me down. I have a reasonable list of things to accomplish, but my mind is rebelling. It's like the kid that cleans his room (or posts on his weblog) to avoid doing homework.
Maybe I'll just disconnect from the 'net for a while. That should reduce the distractions.
