Sunday, December 31, 2006
Look for me on TV
Last, quick post before I head off for Times Square.A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to ring in the new year with
ONE MILLION PEOPLE.
No direction home
- I'm standing at the Long Island Rail Road station in Jamaica, Queens, New York, having arrived in the tri-state area via airplane about an hour previous. It's about 8:30 PM. I'm waiting for my connection to Glen Head, New York. I'm tired and out of sorts. I've only been in New York once before in my life. I've got a messenger bag (with the logo of a Seattle radio station on it) and a giant piece of luggage.
And a guy, tall, dark chocolate skin, sweater and jeans, walks up to me, ticket in hand, staring at the signs, obviously lost and confused. He spots me and approaches. "Is this the train to West Hempstead?" he asks me.
I shrug. "Dunno. Sorry." - I''m in Greenwich Village, crossing Houston (which is pronounced locally as "HOW-stun", hands tucked in my pockets, my eyes hooded by my baseball cap, scarf wrapped around my face against the wind. It's 9:30 PM or so, dark and cold, but this neighborhood is filled with people. The odors from dozens of restaurants fill the air and delight my nose, overpowering the smell of car exhaust.
I've heard people call Portland's NW 21st Street "Portland's Greenwich Village" but now that I've seen the real thing, the comparison is not appropriate. The real neighborhood is much much more interesting. Maybe in another 100 years Portland's will approach it.
A couple pauses, he tall and blandly handsome, she short, thin, dark-haired, Roman nose, crossing the opposite direction from me. I glance up, smile softly, keep walking. She pauses and turns to me. "Is Bleeker Street this way?" she asks, pointing in the direction I've just come.
"Yeah," I say, in my best New Yorkian accent, "It's one blawk up." I surprise myself with how easily the accent, and the directions, come. And they're both accurate.
"OK, thanks!" And they scamper off like puppies. - Later that same night, I'm walking west along Canal Street, having tried, and failed, to find Ground Zero (I just didn't go far enough). I guess I should have asked for directions...
Another generic hip urban couple in their black wool coats, male and female, are walking in the direction from which I came. She looks at me and asks, "Is Little Italy this way?" The boy tugs on her arm and avoids looking at me, his masculinity threatened by having to ask, even by proxy.
"Sorry, I got nothin'. I'm a tourist, too!" I say with a smile. They walk away.
- I'm scrambling down the stairs at Penn Station, Saturday afternoon, trying to catch the New Jersey Transit train that will take me back to the airport, and eventually my hotel. It's the New York Coastal train (I believe) and all I know is that it stops at Newark International Airport, where I can catch a shuttle to the Hilton.
An older lady, in her late 50s or early 60s, bottle-blonde hair, coming down the stairs with me, looks at me. "Is this the train to Secaucus?" She pronounces it with the accent on the first syllable.
"Uh, I'm not sure. I'm just taking it to Newark. Sorry."
She nods and looks around for a porter or conductor as we reach the bottom of the stairs and the train platform. I hustle onboard and stand near the door.
The first stop after Penn Station was Secaucus. I saw her get off there. After all the directions I've given it's nice to see that some folks do reach where they're going, after all.
Friday, December 29, 2006
End of an awesome trip
Up 'til now I've been staying at David and Jackie's house in Glen Head, NY, as I mentioned before.From here on out, though, I'll be spending lots of time in Manhattan. My plan from here on out is this:
- Friday night: Spend as much time in Manhattan as possible.
- Saturday pre-dawn: take last train back to Long Island and crash in David's basement. Sleep 'til noon.
- Saturday noon: Pack. Say goodbyes to David and Jackie and their kids.
- Saturday afternoon: Leave David and Jackie's place with baggage. Take the train to Newark, NJ and check in to the airport Hilton. Leave baggage in room.
- Saturday afternoon and night: Take train to Manhattan and do everything I can (no specific plans)
- Sunday pre-dawn: Take train back to hotel. Sleep and rest up for another night of partying.
- Sunday afternoon: Go back to downtown with just my cell phone, some cash, and my camera.
- Sunday 5:00 PM: Arrive in Times Square for the New Year's Eve party. Get checked through the police barricades into "The Pen" (the blocked-off area at 45th and Broadway).
- Sunday 5:00 PM - Past Midnight: Be locked into one spot for over 7 hours as part of a crowd of a million people. Watch the musical acts and watch the ball drop at midnight.
- Sunday around midnight: text and call everyone I know to scream "Happy New Year" at them.
- Sunday until 4:00 or 5:00 AM - wander around the City if I can, staying awake all night long.
- Sunday around 5:00 AM - take the train back to the hotel and check out.
- Sunday 7:45 AM - My flight leaves EWR - Newark International Airport for SEA - Seattle and the end of an awesome trip.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Start Spreading The News
Hello, from Glen Head, New York. I'm currently using the computers at the hotel my sister is staying at, the Glen Cove Mansion, which was apparently an Army hospital during World War II (that's what my brother-in-law claims).I hadn't realized how far Glen Head is from the City. I'd planned on spending most of my time in the City, thinking it was a short train ride away. It's actually about a 45-minute train ride, and a $13.50 round trip ticket on the weekends. About double that during the week. So I've only spent one day wandering around Manhattan.
I'd post more details and pictures, but I'm not using my computer and it's like using someone else's hands. I'm frustrated and hungry and there's only the vending machines here for food. This morning I ran 5-6 miles, then went back to the house I'm staying at (my friends David and Jackie, who are the perfect hosts), intending to walk to this hotel to join up with the rest of the family, but either I didn't listen or my sister didn't tell me how far away it was. On the way there, I'd decided I was going to find a coffee shop along the way and park my butt and surf and blog a little. Also I needed food - all I've eaten today was a muffin and a small handful of chocolate-covered almonds.
But just as I found a coffee shop (a Starbucks, actually) my brother-in-law showed up to pick me up and take me to the hotel. He was trying to be nice, but he was basically foiling my desire to use my own computer and to eat. Argh. He meant well, but still...
Tomorrow we're going in to the city to see a show; the plan is to see Spamalot, the Monty Python-inspired musical. For that, I will be able to endure my family (I say that with love!).
Happy Holidays to all of my readers...
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
SCORE
Had to go to the DMV to renew my driver's license. Pick a number and wait until you're called.I got the best number ever.
When the lady finally called the number out, I was watching. Her expression was priceless. It was the polar opposite of mine; she looked as though she'd lost some game that DMV clerks play. She hated that number and was loathe to call it out, but she had to. After watching this brief resignation and fear play out across her face and in her body language, she forced herself to look bored and to say the number as though it was just another number, and not a number whose unique properties gave it a whole 'nother meaning.
Since I had been flirting with the cute blonde sitting across from me, with my secret knowledge of the number resting in my pocket, I knew that a braver man would have played up having gotten this number, out of all possible numbers.
I wanted to hold the number aloft, and shout as though I had won some lottery (as, indeed, in a small way, I had), and strut, boldly, saying with pride and enthusiasm the number over and over again. "Yes, yes, that's me. I'm the one. I'm next. You, the awesome girl with the curly hair, have you heard? I have this number. If you'd like to share in my good fortune, perhaps after our sojourn in this dreary place of paperwork and bureaucrats, we could escape to another place to discuss luck, and numbers, and how they interact."
Alas, I only approached the counter as I normally do, with a half-grin on my face, as if I knew many things but could not share them lest I break through to the other side.
Because this license is good for eight years, when next I renew it I will be a half-century old.
Which connects with the fact that for the past six months I've been growing my hair as long as possible - so that I may immortalize this look, this full head of hair look, for the next 2922-some days.
Sagan, sharing
This clip, from "Cosmos: A Personal Voyage", Carl Sagan's amazing series, still makes me weep at what was lost.Not the loss of Sagan himself, although that is part of it. But the loss of knowledge, and history that he is speaking about.
I know that knowledge of the roots of Christianity will not sway modern-day Christians, but how can anyone hear of Cyril's conflicts with Hypatia, and the later destruction of the Library of Alexandria and not feel the lesser for supporting "faith" over reason?
It seems to me that Christianity, like the other fundamentalist religions, are only supported in the present, by denying their past.
God as the machine
Carl Sagan said, on the topic of religion:"The idea that God is an oversized white male with a flowing beard who sits in the sky and tallies the fall of every sparrow is ludicrous. But if by God one means the set of physical laws that govern the universe, then clearly there is such a God. This God is emotionally unsatisfying... it does not make much sense to pray to the law of gravity."From this page, #7, and widely reproduced across the internets, although I cannot find a proper reference for it. I'll update this post once I do.
Carl Sagan and me
My first post on Carl Sagan today will be a listing of all the memories I had of him.When I was a kid, like many kids, I suppose, I read comic books and sci-fi books and books about UFOs or Bigfoot. From those, I learned a little science, most of it junk science, but there was still a certain vocabulary, a certain mindset, that came out, even in those fictional, flawed ways. Over and over again, I read about The Scientific Method, almost always capitalized, and presented as the basis for all rational thought. The idea of a Method for doing amazing things, making weapons for any foe, ships and equipment for exploration, or machines for helping feed, shelter and entertain all humans, appealed to me. It was a way to organize the world; it was a way to separate fact from fiction; it was a guide for creativity and a spur for adventure.
As I learned more, though, I began to see a difference between the things I saw on TV that were real, and really happening, like the Apollo missions to the Moon (with which I shared a last name), and the almost-magical creature supposedly living in the bottom of a deep, dark Scottish loch, or the black-eyed, large-headed, spindly-armed alien Grays.
Reading science fiction authors like Arthur C. Clarke and Isaac Asimov led me to read those authors' non-fiction essays and stories. Asimov, in particular, wrote on nearly every topic, from humor, to the Bible and Shakespeare, to lasers and physics and chemistry.
And since I always wanted more to read, once I started browsing in the Popular Science section of the library and bookstores, I saw another name: Carl Sagan.
I believe that the first strictly non-fiction science book I bought with my allowance was "The Dragons of Eden" by Carl Sagan. It strictly explored the idea of intelligence, from a scientific, and not mystical, point of view. Dr. Sagan discussed the many weird and non-intuitive things that happen when the brain is damaged; people lose the ability to recognize human faces, for example, but otherwise can function normally. Or they become unable to speak the names of objects, but can gesture to the words themselves, or pick up a similar item, demonstrating that they know what it is - but something in them is unable to speak the words.
It was my first exposure to the idea that the brain really is the "mind" - that our personalities aren't some immaterial substance that is magically immortal, but a process that arises out of the functioning of our physical bodies.
That book, and Dr. Sagan's gentle and patient educational tone, also began to show me how the Scientific Method was applied to the actual, dirty, messy, chaotic world. Sagan, unlike Asimov and Clarke, weren't just writers who spoke a scientific language. Sagan was a scientist first, and an author last.
More than that, he was a Rocket Scientist.
When I went to find more books by him and learn more about him, I found that Sagan worked for NASA, the very essence of applied science to me. He had helped to design and launch probes to the other worlds in our solar system: Viking 1 & 2, Pioneer 10 and Pioneer 11, and Voyager 1 and 2, probes that were millions of miles from Earth, sending back pictures and data about the asteroids, Jupiter, and Saturn and all their little moons.
I watched and absorbed every episode of Cosmos: A Personal Voyage, hosted by Carl Sagan, on local channel 10, in 1980. I knew that the special effects were cheesy and even lame, no match for "Star Wars" or their ilk, but I also knew that "Cosmos" was talking about real things, and that made all the difference in the world.
I remember, when I was in high school, going to OMSI, Portland's science museum, back when it was up on the hill by the Zoo, with a friend, Jeff Schenk. I don't remember which one, but one of the Voyager probes was set to send pictures back from Saturn, the ringed planet. My friend and I were going to OMSI to see the pictures, "live". There were several rooms set up at OMSI, with big-screen projection TVs, that were connected via satellite to NASA, showing image after image of Saturn and it's many moons. This must have been in 1981. I remember that Carl Sagan was one of many voices and faces explaining in detail what we were seeing, and again, his playful voice showed the joy of discovery, of real discovery and exploration. All of us in that room, and everyone across the nation and around the world watching those images were seeing things that had never been seen before by anyone else, and all because of a machine built by human hands. Carl Sagan was greedy for knowledge, like any scientist, as were we all; but he didn't hoard the knowledge. He wanted to share it with everyone.
That little space robot, controlled from millions of miles away, had travelled farther than Leif Ericson, Magellan, and Lewis and Clark combined and many times over, but the people who built and launched it were no less of explorers than those early sailors and travelers. And for me, at that moment, Carl Sagan was the voice and face for them.
Carl Sagan led me to understand what it is to be a skeptic, when he talked about the reality of searching for extra-terrestrial intelligence, as contrasted with the stories of alien abductions and saucer-shaped flying vehicles. He led me to wonder about the self-destructive impulse in humanity, when he talked about the possibility of nuclear war causing an all-too-real nuclear winter.
He even demonstrated, by example, the honor in admitting one's own mistakes, when he publicly listed the errors he had made in his lifetime, including a prediction he had made during the first Gulf War. He had claimed, on national TV, that the oil fires burning in Kuwait would cause a chilling effect that would be global and catastrophic. It takes a real man, in my view, to admit one is wrong. The world would be a better place if more people could do the same.
I believe I've read every book that Carl Sagan has written; and he has written several, but not enough, never enough. Because, in December 1996, just 10 short years ago, Carl Sagan died. Death is not easy to deal with for people, and there are as many ways of coming to terms with death as there are cultures and people. It is not a surprise to me that many people try to deny death and believe in a literal immortality for themselves and the ones they love.
It can be difficult to realize that everything that made Carl Sagan the towering intellect, gentle teacher to humanity, and stubborn explorer of the universe that he was, disappeared from the Cosmos 10 years ago today. He left behind words, and pictures, and work; he left behind a family, and children. But he, himself, is gone, never to reoccur. I am glad that I got to know who he was during his lifetime. I am glad that I became the person I am today in some part because of who he was, even though he and I never met.
I'm glad that the Cosmos still produces people like Carl Sagan. May it continue to produce intelligences of such caliber for a long, long time.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Carl Sagan was my hero
Tomorrow is the 10th anniversary of Carl Sagan's death.Joel Schlossberg has proposed a Blog-a-thon to celebrate Carl Sagan's life and beliefs.
The Blog-a-thon has the approval of Nick Sagan, Carl's son. Not that that is why I'm participating tomorrow.
I just think that Carl Sagan was one of my earliest real-life heroes.
Funny how most of my heroes are scientists, thinkers, philosophers, dreamers, and authors. Yes, they are almost always all of those in the same person. Do you find that surprising? The stereotype of scientists is that they're socially-awkward, inept at communication except on the most technical level, and shallow, materialistic people.
And yet I find the amazing awestruck writings of my heroes to be deeply moving and heartfelt. All the more so because the things of which they write are grounded in things we can actually observe, measure, and predict.
It does not destroy the beauty of the rainbow to know how it comes about.
Plus, if these guys are so socially inept, why do they marry hot wives? Richard Dawkin's wife, Lalla Ward, actress? Carl Sagan's wife, Ann Druyan? Rowr. Chicks dig the big brains, baby.
Tracy, when I mentioned the Blog-a-Thon to her, said that she had no idea who Carl Sagan was.
Join me tomorrow as I turn my meager skills towards explaining that for her, and anyone else who wants to know.
PS: Ix-nay on the "Billions and billions" comments. C'mon. He never said that.
"I never said it. Honest. Oh, I said there are maybe 100 billion galaxies and 10 billion trillion stars. It's hard to talk about the Cosmos without using big numbers. I said 'billion' many times on the Cosmos television series, which was seen by a great many people. But I never said 'billions and billions.' For one thing, it's imprecise. How many billions are 'billions and billions'? A few billion? Twenty billion? A hundred billion? 'Billions and billions' is pretty vague... For a while, out of childish pique, I wouldn't utter the phrase, even when asked to. But I've gotten over that. So, for the record, here it goes: 'Billions and billions.'"
Monday, December 18, 2006
Presumptions
In an interesting (to me) discussion over at Jack Bog's place, a commenter named "Sheef" posted the following:The Blogtown post raises an interesting hypothetical. Imagine an industrious blogger nobly opining away at a local coffee shop on a laptop. A thief snatches the laptop and bolts out the door. A cop witnesses the theft and gives chase, but returns to the coffee shop empty handed. The cop tells the blogger, "I'm sorry, but the only way I could have stopped him was by pushing him down, and he could have been hurt. So he got away."Note: "The Blogtown post" that Sheef refers to can be found here.
Does the blogger:
a. Commend the cop for his restraint - it was only a laptop, after all;
b. Commend the cop for his restraint and, upon obtaining a replacement laptop, blog about the virtue of PDX cops;
c. Scream epithets at the cop for not shoving the thief down and stomping on his head in order to get the laptop back; or
d. Throw scalding espresso into the cop's eyes while screaming epithets and, upon obtaining a replacement laptop, blog incessantly about the lazy PDX police who have no respect for private property?
Discuss.
Just taking the question at face value, without considering the presumptions Sheef may be making, is a bit difficult for me. I think that Sheef was trying to personalize the situation being discussed (a police officer injured in the line of duty while chasing down a suspect). If I can guess from Sheef's tone, I think he may be assuming that I, or another commenter, would call for a different response from the cop for "someone else", versus the response I (or another person) would call for myself (or themselves). I could be wrong, though, and I hope to hear from Sheef, or that he at least reads my post.
Obviously I had a first, gut reaction to Sheef's post. But then I thought about it some more, carefully considered my underlying assumptions, and then realized (or, possibly, rationalized) my initial reaction was the correct one for me.
The answer, for me, both on first reaction and after considered thought, is B. I would thank the cop for his effort and commend him on his restraint, and upon getting to another computer, I would probably blog about it. I blog about everything else, after all...
My reasons for this are several, and just taking the situation as Sheef presents it without adding any new assumptions, the basics for me start with the fact that no laptop is worth someone, cop or thief, getting injured over it; and end with the fact that, in my view of police work, they serve the public, including some guy who snatched a laptop off a table. I'm just as uncomfortable with the idea of a cop who views a property theft as an excuse for violence, as I am with the assumption that I see in Sheef's question that a suspect "deserves" a little roughing up.
You can argue that if the cop saw the guy take my laptop, that the suspect's guilt is not a question. But I would argue that it's not the cop's place to make that determination. Our system of justice separates the judgement of guilt from those who enact the laws for a reason, and I see no reason to question that.
And to add a bit to the question (my assumption that Sheef was trying to personalize the situation, so bear with me while I picture myself in the scenario, with all that that entails), since my laptop is an Apple MacBook Pro, my chances of getting it back in one piece are greater if I report it stolen, the thief takes it, sells it for quick cash, and it eventually turns up in an Apple Store for service.
Compare that scenario with the idea of a cop knocking the suspect to the ground. What are the odds a fragile laptop is going to survive that?
Granted, that comparison might not hold for any other crap laptop (heh)... which is why I considered that separately from the basic, no-added-assumptions question. Just sayin'.
Behold the sight of his noodly light
I so wish I had thought of this sooner. Oh, well, there's always next year!
For those not up on Pastafarianism, the original site and the Wikipedia article provide awesome info...
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Giveaway
I headed downtown this morning to do a little Christmas shopping. Hadn't had breakfast yet, so I stopped in at Starbucks.Mmm... soy chai. So good. I'm all high-maintenance-y, I order mine without water or foam. No water means it's got a stronger flavor. No foam means they fill the damn cup all the way up.
And even though it was after 10:00 AM, they still had some of their delicious cinnamon rolls in the case... Cinnamon rolls as big as your head, and filled with five hundred and twenty delicious cinnamon flavored calories.
I couldn't resist. I bought one. But I had them cut it in half, to help me only eat half.
Tracy asked me, via text, what I was going to do with the other half. I said I was probably going to throw it away, to be rid of the temptation.
She suggested I give it to a bum. Good idea! And so seasonal!
So I headed out onto the streets of downtown, half a cinnamon roll in a box in my hand.
First guy was laying on the sidewalk out in front of the Rite-Aid, with a sign asking for money to go somewhere. He didn't want it, he said, rubbing his belly, and smiling with only a few teeth in his mouth, saying that he'd eaten a big full dinner the night before and this morning, so he didn't want it. Um, OK.
Next was a woman, dressed in about fifteen layers of clothing, all of the layers unwashed. She didn't want it, she said, because "I've got heartburn." All-right-y then.
Next was an unshaven guy whose face looked gray, to match his clothes. He just said, "No, thank you" in a polite but gravelly tone.
So I threw it away. At least I tried, right?
Friday, December 15, 2006
Bugs
I finally tried the free MetroFi wireless internets. I was at the Taco del Mar on SE Stark and MLK.I chose a seat near the window, and even with line of sight to the antenna outside, I could not get a signal. Then I moved about 5 feet closer (but still inside) and suddenly got the MetroFi Free, MetroFi Premium, and one other signal (I forget but not MetroFi or PTP - probably just some random access point in the area).
I was using my MacBook Pro, and Safari, on Mac OS X 10.4.
I was able, at first, to send email using my normal mail program, so it did not appear that port 25 (in tech-y speak) was blocked.
In my brief experiment in surfing, I only saw banner ads on about half the pages I hit. I had thought banner ads would be on all the pages?
Some sites (like Blue Oregon or Jack Bog's blog) loaded normally, except with the added banner ad sometimes. But on sites where the comments are displayed in a pop-up window - the pop-up window would load AND the main page would load the comments, too. Annoying.
And a health-related site I use, Calorie Count (I was trying to enter my calories for lunch) just kept refreshing over and over again, making the page unusable.
Meh. If there's nothing else around, I can use it for a quick look-up. But I'm not going to go out of my way to look at their dumb ads.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
ALL
Tracy and I were talking, via text, at work. Then I got busy with some other things and couldn't respond to Tracy. Tracy kept sending me more and more worried texts, wondering why I'd stopped talking to her.After I was done, I explained that I had been on a call, and emailing someone else, and I apologized for not being able to talk.
Tracy responded: It's all in my head, Brian. We've gone over that already. But, I appreciate you spelling it out for me. That's EXACTLY what I need right now. More than you know. Thanks for being you, as always.
I replied: It can't all be in your head. Because it's all in MY head.
Tracy: Really?
Me: Duh. It can't ALL be in BOTH heads, now, can it?
Tracy: I'm pretty sure it's ALL in MY head, Brian. Just sayin'.
Me: I'm so blobbing this.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Responsibility
Yesterday, Microsoft announced updates for Office 2004 and Office vX. The updates also apparently showed up in AutoUpdate.Today, Microsoft announced that everyone who got a notice of an Office update and installed it... didn't REALLY. The updates were posted in error. There's no actual updates. So everyone who saw the updates show up in AutoUpdate, or downloaded them from the Microsoft website via the above links that no longer work can just uninstall them.
Later today, Microsoft confirmed that, sorry, there's no way to uninstall an Office update. So the part of the notice that says "uninstall them" is a mistake.
Later than the previous confirmation of the previous notice about the previous updates, Microsoft announced that those responsible for the unintentional posting of the security updates for Office have been sacked.
Shortly after the announcement about the sacking of those responsible for the previous unintentional posting of the security updates for Office, Microsoft stated that there were no sackings, as that would be considered "responsibility" (albeit at a very low level) and that announcing that there were sackings, was a mistake.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Revolution
I want this on a t-shirt.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Strong deterrent?
Can it be true that my strong opinions on topics can prevent people from discussing things with me?'Cause that would be the opposite of what I'm looking for, even as that thought saddens me.
Making a list. Checking it twice.
Both the SoHo Apple Store and the Fifth Avenue Apple Store are going to be open 24/7 until Christmas Day.It's almost like they knew I was coming. Uncanny.
SDTV
I bought a new TV over the weekend.Don't jump to conclusions. I'm not a big TV-watcher in the first place. In fact, the TV I've owned for the last six or seven years still has clunky round dials to turn to change the channels; one for VHF and one for UHF. I always just left the dial on channel 3, and used the remote that came with my VCR (yes, an analog video recorder... that saves its data on tape, magnetic tape like you'd see on some antique computing device) to change the channels.
But at some point in the last week or two, the TV finally stopped working. I'd received it, gratis, from a neighbor when he'd "bought" a newer TV from his work. He delivered furniture and appliances, and always had a great deal on stuff like that, stuff that had come in, used, and had to be moved to make space. He never actually said that they'd "fallen off the back of the truck" but the implication was always there, if you get my meaning. I also got a washer and dryer from him. The dryer I still have, but the washer died several years ago and I had to replace it out of my own pocket, for around $100.
Less than six months after that, my neighbor, who smoked copious amounts of weed, got involved in a car accident while working (caused, in part, because of his addiction), got fired, spent all his unemployment money on pot, became the center of lots of violent, drunken and drugged fights in my apartment building, and was finally evicted. I haven't seen him since. He was a good kid - at least at first. I wonder what happened to him? I hope he learned his lesson.
So, my new TV. This weekend I simply couldn't bear the thought of missing new episodes of "The Simpsons" so I set out in a trusty FlexCar Honda Element to hit the stores. I'd done just enough Googling to discover that new, 25-30" standard-def TVs run under $300, and was hoping to find a Christmas-season deal.
Standard-def? Sure, the FCC has mandated that all TVs over 25" have an ATSC tuner in them, making them capable, in theory, of receiving High Definition broadcasts, as of March 2006; and sure, by sometime in 2009 all television stations will be broadcasting in High Definition... but in the meantime, there's lots of television to watch that's still in analog. Plus, I've got other uses for my money this month.
I went to Fry's, I went to Best Buy, I even went to Fred Meyer's and Target, but they didn't have a lot of selections in the SDTV category. Finally I tried Stuff, a local used electronics store, and found a decent Sony Trinitron 27" tube that looked like it worked OK. $229, which may or may not be a good deal but it was in my price range and it was getting late. The sales girl, a cute redhead, helped me load it into my FlexCar, in spite of her fighting off the effects of a flu shot, and I headed home.
I tried enlisting my youngest nephew to help me carry it into my apartment, but I couldn't reach his parents to confirm that it'd be OK for him to help out (there's been some miscommunication in that area lately so it's better to be clear). I was able, though, to carry the thing in myself, in stages.
And then I sat on the couch for the rest of the night... surfing... TV is so hypnotic.
Friday, December 08, 2006
So this is Christmas
The last time I was in New York City, which was in early 2000, I was walking around one evening with my friend, who was showing me around. My friend, David, was big on the "non-touristy" stuff, the stuff that only someone who lives in New York would like to see, and he showed me some places I won't soon forget. But one moment stands out in my memory.We were walking through Central Park, on the Upper West side. My friend had us cut through, and cross the street that bordered the Park. He was going somewhere deliberately but I had no idea where. I forget the conversation, but I was rambling on about something. Suddenly David stopped me, just as we were going to cross the street.
"Do you know where you are?"
"Um... Central Park? Manhattan?"
In a low voice, he said, "You're standing on the spot where John Lennon was murdered."
"Ohmighod." I spun around and looked at the building behind me. "The Dakota?" Sure enough, there it was. I made us circle back to see the entrance. It is a striking building on its own merits. But a place now haunted by a tragedy.
I was saving this one for next week, but was reminded that today is the 26th anniversary of John Lennon's murder.
Remember - war is over. If you want it.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
A pause for explanation
I would like to offer a very public apology to my friends, especially Kevin. My questions and challenges are not meant to be personal, and I have not intended to embarrass anyone, least of all my friends. If my responses seemed off-putting or even hostile, I believe that to be a product of the privileged nature of the topic at hand, combined with my forceful way of discussing it.Tracy's plea to change the subject, even though I trust her, she's said she trusts me, and I know her to be quite open to discussion on any other topic, shows how deeply embedded the taboo against challenging religious beliefs can run.
My original question was asked to illustrate a point, a point that Kevin was kind enough to help me elaborate (though not through any pre-arrangement between us, I have to state clearly).
Many people feel that God exists. This feeling is deemed off-limits from challenge or discussion (at least), or even elevated to a status equal to or greater than that of logic, rational thought or empirical evidence. I strongly disagree, and my reasons are many. I hope, with time, to elaborate on them. I intend to do so for as long as I live, and in as many ways and forums that I can reach, because it is a goal larger than myself in which I believe.
But people tend to take their feelings... um... personally, which explains why many find it difficult to accept the tentative and subjective nature of the contents of their head. Understandable, yes. But regrettable, as well.
But feelings, and the senses, can be wrong. Sometimes spectacularly so. If I may direct your attention to the simple observation of the solidity of the ground under your feet, and the equally obvious sight of the sun tracking across the sky, morning to night? And yet, the Earth, in fact, moves, rotating and twisting and flying in circles 'round the Sun. And the Earth's movements are not a relative matter, but can be demonstrated, and predicted, through tools and ways of thought that are new to us (in geological terms).
Other examples are available in so many formats and places. But most of the time they're presented as puzzles, mind-teasers, games, or entertainment. I guess people dismiss them as trivia to prevent them from acknowledging what is actually being revealed.
But they're not just simple tricks.
Because our feelings are so easily fooled, we need ways to measure our intuitions and feelings and see if they produce an accurate model of the world in which we live. Those tools are logic, and rational thought, and the scientific method. Logic can be faulty and lead to false conclusions, true. But far less often than your senses, which are fooled myriad times a day. And logic can be corrected by the other, rational, tools.
Beliefs or "faith", which has no foundation but itself, are incapable of correcting themselves. Someone with a strong "faith" and a somewhat working brain, can re-interpret any new evidence to support their "faith". In just the blink of an eye, someone who wants to can see the glass as half-ful, or half-empty, and can cause all sorts of feelings to begin cascading in their brains and bodies, to give a simple example. Neither viewpoint changes the glass and the water, however. Reality is what it is.
Feelings and unfounded beliefs are nice, and all. Enjoy them, if it means savoring a delicious meal, or the warmth of friendship, or the beautiful colors of a sunset.
But don't pollute those things by seeing things that aren't there, like some imaginary intelligence that no one can see. And don't pretend that the things you wish were there justify their own existence.
That's dishonest.
More atheist "humor"
Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you "the most important question we can ask about God".Please note the quotes around that phrase... I've got my own ideas on the topic of most important question.
In a slightly different vein
I present to you one of my intellectual heroes, Richard Dawkins, answering a question from a correspondent:What is there to distinguish your intolerance from that of a religious fanatic? TONY REYNOLDS, By e-mailFeel free to click through for the other, equally direct and hopefully thought-provoking questions and answers.
It would be intolerant if I advocated the banning of religion, but of course I never have. I merely give robust expression to views about the cosmos and morality with which you happen to disagree. You interpret that as 'intolerance' because of the weirdly privileged status of religion, which expects to get a free ride and not have to defend itself. If I wrote a book called The Socialist Delusion or The Monetarist Delusion, you would never use a word like intolerance. But The God Delusion sounds automatically intolerant. Why? What's the difference?
I have a (you might say fanatical) desire for people to use their own minds and make their own choices, based upon publicly available evidence. Religious fanatics want people to switch off their own minds, ignore the evidence, and blindly follow a holy book based upon private 'revelation'. There is a huge difference.
Similarly, through that above-linked article I discovered Atheists for Jesus, which I find fascinating. Note for Tracy... while that site may seem funny to some, I'm still presenting it (semi-)seriously...
Oh, and I would definitely wear one of these t-shirts, though I could probably come up with a snazzier design and font... And would look sexier in it.
Sometimes
Happy Holidays! I'm listening to my cynical Xmas playlist today, and thought I'd do something I almost never do: post a video from YouTube.Enjoy "Sometimes You Have To Work On Christmas (Sometimes)" from my favorite Seattle band, the awesome Harvey Danger!
Monday, December 04, 2006
Simple answers to simple questions
In a comment on a previous post, wecker asks (among other things):"In my humble thinking, let me refer now to light. Can one prove light exists?"Yes.
This has been another edition of "Simple answers to simple questions." Thanks!
Consider this an open thread to discussing side issues raised around the topic of that previous post.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Happy Festivus
The following post was written over two years ago. I didn't post it right away, however. Couldn't decide if I wanted to share it or not. But after a week of thinking about it, I realized that there really is no reason not to, as an early Christmas present to my co-conspirator. Enjoy.She was early, but that was because she'd left her running clothes at her boyfriend's that morning and had to buy new running clothes to go running with me (she claimed).
We were originally going to run in Forest Park, but she said she hadn't brought her trail running shoes and didn't want to get her regular running shoes muddy, so we knocked around some ideas and ended up (much to my surprise) deciding on a route in my neighborhood. I was cautious because it seemed so easy to talk her into it... but on a practical note it was fine with me, because then I would be close to home.
We ran, I kept the pace, had a good time, joking and talking the whole time. Got back to my apartment and I was starving, she agreed to get some dinner (she didn't have the girls that night so didn't have to hurry back home)... we walked to a place in my 'hood (a really really good Italian place, in fact one of our first dates over a year ago), split a bottle of wine between the two of us.
Again, like I said before, it was almost BETTER than when we were first dating, before the bad times, before the multiple breakups, before the angry email exchanges... I wasn't trying to flirt, I was just enjoying myself, and she seemed to, too. We laughed and had a great time, plus had our shared history, were comfortable with each other. I really am getting the best that she has to offer. At one point (later on), I even told her this; let her current boyfriend deal with the demands, the PMS, the fears... I'm happy with just this. Yeah, I'm weird.
So, after telling her about running on the beach, she mentioned that she's never run on the beach, with the exception of the very end of the Hood-to-Coast. So I said, "Let's go to the beach RIGHT NOW! You have a car, you don't have the girls, Seaside is just over an hour away... what's stopping us?" And beyond her two objections, one, that she had an 8:30 AM meeting the next morning ("We have plenty of time for you to make that!" I declared) and two, that she had to let Mojo (her dog) out... yeah, beyond that, she was up for the idea.
So, we did. By 10:15 PM, we were in Cannon Beach. We got a couple of cups of coffee, then took a six-pack of Fat Tire and a two-thirds full bottle of Sauza Commemorativo I'd brought along on to the beach, sat, and flirted a bit, and laughed, and got really drunk, and confessed that we're still really attracted to each other, and I realized that no matter what, this night will join all my other really great memories.
She told me, just after I'd brought up the idea of going to the beach and just before she'd given in, "I don't remember you being this impulsive." To which I replied, "Yeah, I've changed a little... OK, maybe a lot."
And the bestbestbest part is that I didn't do anything I have to feel guilty about. Her... maybe a little guilt, but not anything major.
Belief without evidence must be questioned
If it's OK to dismiss belief in the Easter Bunny as unserious......why is it not OK to dismiss belief in God?
Why is one of those considered a taboo to question, and the other is not?
There's just as much, if not more, evidence for the existence of the Easter Bunny than there is for God.
Why is it OK to teach children that it's OK to believe in something without any evidence or even an unexplained effect... but only as it relates to Bronze Age beliefs?
