tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-149068872024-03-07T04:11:00.727-05:00Second GlanceTaking another look where others might notAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.comBlogger301125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-4965912751259594182017-03-05T15:51:00.000-05:002017-03-06T08:30:49.822-05:00So you want to sip a rum?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You could just read t<a href="https://therumhowlerblog.com/the-rum-howler-2015-top-25-rums/">his guy's reviews</a>, but if you are one of those people that don't trust a guy with a mustache, I've written this blog entry as an alternative. <br />
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Let me start by saying I'm only going to review rums that are worthy of sipping on their own (or at least claim to be worthy). So no Bacardi or Gosling. Sorry those are unsippable in any of their forms or varieties. If by ill fortune you find yourself with no other alternatives, fear not, simply mix with some ginger beer and a squeeze of lime and serve over ice. And if you don't have that, just call it a night, okay?<br />
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Let me start by saying I've spent plenty of time appreciating whiskey and scotch. There are certainly rums that will appeal to those that are into that sort of thing. But I wasn't after that when I started trying rums, and I won't be reviewing any of those rums either.<br />
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In fact, I didn't know what I was looking for until I found it. It was a rum so exquisite, that provided an experience so pleasant, I decided to undertake an exploration of other rums to see if the experience was unique or whether the world of rums held other gems. There were others like it. So what was it? Simply put, (1) smooth, (2) flavorful, (3) sweet without being overly so, (4) no tar or tobacco aftertaste.<br />
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Let me start with one that is widely available and therefore a tempting purchase, Captain Morgan Private Stock. This is the only rum I'm reviewing that I won't recommend at some level. This is not a traditional spiced rum of the typical Captain Morgan or Sailor Jerry variety. This is super smooth, but it seems they did a deal with the devil to make it so. It has such an overpowering vanilla flavor, that instead of "feeling the burn" you will be feeling sick to your stomach. It tastes like they've add some "natural" flavors to this one, and not in a good way. Definitely not worth stocking, privately or publically. In sum: definitely smooth, too much vanilla flavor, and way too sweet. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvR-jEu5N-v4wH1PGGbVEXCW4ruCLzMtpG11dtOB3EpRFjuA-fpGC4f-gd0geXmOXqz1_tWpw5DBE4VTzVjPPNcytoxyca3Rr8l5eQm2r93hiRwGAmZ-S4l-BX_DJCMGP_lMYbw/s1600/IMG_0687.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvR-jEu5N-v4wH1PGGbVEXCW4ruCLzMtpG11dtOB3EpRFjuA-fpGC4f-gd0geXmOXqz1_tWpw5DBE4VTzVjPPNcytoxyca3Rr8l5eQm2r93hiRwGAmZ-S4l-BX_DJCMGP_lMYbw/s320/IMG_0687.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
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Zaya is essentially Captain Morgan Private Stock, except done right. The smoothness is there. The vanilla is definitely there. Almost too much vanilla, Zaya approaches the too sweet line, but does not cross it. This is the most affordable sipping rum I've found. Definitely worth stocking. In sum: very smooth, a heaping helping of vanilla, but not too sweet.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwYOS5BadibpP_pGid6pjXn_zbQ0M_upEsqfB9mdR9_azZpkxwSEO4-BOpOUmjC7ZDmh5k_m4PvFB2c5qnUdRe4chZ5PptUGzj59Wq_D1R5-Z4bOs-qq5TVKIw2W3A_U4dV1uYQw/s1600/IMG_0669.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwYOS5BadibpP_pGid6pjXn_zbQ0M_upEsqfB9mdR9_azZpkxwSEO4-BOpOUmjC7ZDmh5k_m4PvFB2c5qnUdRe4chZ5PptUGzj59Wq_D1R5-Z4bOs-qq5TVKIw2W3A_U4dV1uYQw/s320/IMG_0669.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
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Of my favorite rums, Ron Zacapa 23 is the most widely available. Note that only a small portion of this rum is 23 years old (maybe a drop?). In sum: You can't go wrong with Ron Zacapa 23, it just doesn't have the complexity of my favorites.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuE77vj4O2V3W8E8KcJfetV49iw9Aepde12vhzzU6-BuoUyuiGa3Y3LL72EEzoZrjuvnpbfg5llQrH46H5NtZJBl4ioDrqUTiz9ikou6OphbeHxxIfTyZLZ0i4l5wP-v4d5_PDeg/s1600/image1.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuE77vj4O2V3W8E8KcJfetV49iw9Aepde12vhzzU6-BuoUyuiGa3Y3LL72EEzoZrjuvnpbfg5llQrH46H5NtZJBl4ioDrqUTiz9ikou6OphbeHxxIfTyZLZ0i4l5wP-v4d5_PDeg/s320/image1.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
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El Dorado 12 is sweeter than its older brother, the 15 year bottle. In generally, I've found rums aged past 12 years to be more oaky and drier than their younger siblings. This is what I buy when my favorite rum is not in stock. In sum: Approaching greatness, and definitely worth a try, especially if you find my favorite rum too sweet.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzlheZOOi6sgLofuTaMXIZWD0BjE0uZkw8xSZph6RCvOLjea8GY2XLtmglJsk7Jx1t_OPzw2ZiJB1OYt3CtMgANnnpLgI56QphlaYuIRbPdpZORy7zmnxUlNqK9Y6dyYEC0y2bPw/s1600/IMG_0705.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzlheZOOi6sgLofuTaMXIZWD0BjE0uZkw8xSZph6RCvOLjea8GY2XLtmglJsk7Jx1t_OPzw2ZiJB1OYt3CtMgANnnpLgI56QphlaYuIRbPdpZORy7zmnxUlNqK9Y6dyYEC0y2bPw/s320/IMG_0705.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
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Dimplomatico Reserva Exclusiva is hands down the best sipping rum I've experienced. There is nothing to hate and everything to love about this SUPER smooth rum. It has the perfect level of sweetness and none of that nasty tobacco or tar aftertaste. I'm not going to try to describe the flavor profile, because I don't want you to enter this experience with any preconceptions. Diplomatico will win you over. Availability is hit or miss in my area, so call ahead if you are making the trip just for this rum. In sum: Perfect!<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKq4EsU58jDzoJLxJznCR7rCWMD_sn9n_s5R2F3hrMHm-bUUu5QVyQjrsUwOBDibPpdn7lQbWH__KlqZtM4fFwjkt7PKMWUq4nYZSJNX996ueVAKq_KwzioZtg1IArAPm1s55_Nw/s1600/IMG_0691.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKq4EsU58jDzoJLxJznCR7rCWMD_sn9n_s5R2F3hrMHm-bUUu5QVyQjrsUwOBDibPpdn7lQbWH__KlqZtM4fFwjkt7PKMWUq4nYZSJNX996ueVAKq_KwzioZtg1IArAPm1s55_Nw/s320/IMG_0691.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-25013466483193420112014-01-05T22:40:00.002-05:002014-01-05T22:40:45.000-05:00What's your number?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Most games are designed with a specific number of players in mind. These days, tabletop game often advertise a range of supported players, typically 2-4 players, 2-5 players, or in some cases even more, for example, 4-7 (Bang!) or 5-10 (Resistance). This is marketing. In reality, there is often a particular number of players that is better supported by the game format and mechanics than others. Some games don't scale well, so that adding another player adds another 45 minutes to the gameplay time. Others are hard to balance with certain player counts--indeed many games offer alternate instructions depending on the number of players. <br />
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As I dip my big toe into the water of amateur game design with a game I'm calling "Ice Age", I think my sweet spot is 4 players. Some games that allow for more either take way too long to play or, in an attempt to avoid long playtimes, are oversimplified. I have played several games recently that worked well with more than 4 players, including Resistance, Samurai Sword, and King of Tokyo. But for the game experience I am trying to create, my goal is to optimize for 4 players. <br />
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Even with 4 player in mind for the final product, I am finding that I'm building my gameplay and mechanics for 2. My reasons for doing so are entirely practical--more players means making more cards and finding more people to help test. Even so, I've got to keep in mind whether the game will become too clunky or cumbersome when I eventually scale up to the 4-player version. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-52958728575467853502013-12-23T14:53:00.000-05:002013-12-23T14:53:18.380-05:00Ruthless Civility<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Conflict can be a lot of fun. It can also make some people really uncomfortable. I'm talking about conflict in board games, mind you. You definitely want to choose a game that aligns with the players' desire for conflict.<br />
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Conflict is a type of interaction. Many of the most fun games keep the players engaged even when it is not their turn, often by allowing them to trade with or respond to actions taken by the turn-taking player. Plenty of games provide player-to-player interactions without conflict, including interactions that can be mutually beneficial, co-operative, or at least not outright hostile. In other games, this engagement comes in the form of falling under direct attack--that's a conflict. Some conflict roils beneath the surface and can be far more subtle, such as laying claim to territory on the board that limits the options available to another player. <br />
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I have found that some players have difficulty separating the conflict in the game from real life emotions. For example, I've seen a(n unnamed) mother express extreme psychological displeasure in having to attack her opponent (and real-life child) with a volcanic repeating arms pistol (in Bang!). Fortunately, there are plenty of board games that have player-to-player interaction yet do not require (or allow) players to single out individuals for a thorough thrashing. When playing with loved ones, sometimes it is better to keep the conflict games in the closet.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-51586991024150202082013-12-19T14:02:00.005-05:002013-12-22T13:32:05.687-05:00Little Gray Tokens by Another Name<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
As I started reading<a href="http://www.concordmonitor.com/home/9781115-95/grant-bosse-your-free-market-gift-guide-to-board-games"> this article</a>, I feared I might have sleep-plagiarized it in my previous<a href="http://2ndglance.blogspot.com/2013/12/choices-and-randomness.html"> blog post</a>. I knew I was safe when the author recommended <a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/boardgame/2397/backgammon">backgammon</a> as offering the right balance between choice and randomness. I won't pretend that I've every played backgammon correctly. Not that I didn't try as an 8 year-old kid when my only alternatives were Monopoly and Chess; however, we always seemed to have the board and pieces but not the rules. After reading <a href="http://www.boardgamegeek.com/thread/1021327/learning-backgammon-after-getting-into-the-board-g">this article</a>, I'm beginning to think backgammon may have been a lost artifact from Atlantis--the last relic from the first Golden Age of board games.<br />
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Even if I'm missing out for never having played backgammon, certainly no one can blame me for not getting excited over the THEME, which is non-existent. Theme and presentation (game pieces, artwork) is an important factor in the gaming experience, and the old standby games have been hit or miss in this category (Monopoly and Life are okay, Chess is passable, while Sorry, Checkers, and backgammon are atrocious). There is nothing inherently wrong with a simply presented game with a killer game mechanic. But to me, playing a game that is just colored squares on a board or just cards with numbers is kind of like work. The game becomes all about figuring out the mechanic, doing the mental calculations and statistics, and trying to optimize (like Poker, which I hate, though maybe also because I always lose). Those are elements of the experience, but a great board game allows you to do all those things in a way that aligns with the theme. <br />
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Part of the fun is building the story around your game play. Which sounds better to you: being the player that won for collecting the most little gray cardboard tokens, or being the scientifically-minded, inter-galactic species called Hyrda Progress that conquers the galaxy by focusing your research on critical technologies, creating an intricate web of diplomacy, and turning traitor at the last moment to crush a player with an inferior star fleet (after which you earn all the little gray cardboard tokens and win!)?<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-8274541756997203532013-12-17T16:36:00.000-05:002013-12-18T13:21:05.225-05:00Choices and Randomness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Chess is almost always almost no fun to play. Overlooking the fact that "three's a party," a core problem is that Chess requires very specific skills and knowledge. When two opponents with different skills and knowledge levels are matched together the result is very lopsided. The game is abundant in choices but lacking in randomness. This tends to discourage new players, as the ones that are most excited to play with them are often going to beat them up on the game board.<br />
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On the opposite end of the spectrum is Monopoly. Okay, its not completely opposite, but I LOATHE Monopoly for many reason (captured very well <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ATnXloqRfdA">here</a>). Monopoly has abundant, if boring randomness (all movement defined by rolling dice), and only a very few choices (buy property or don't buy). There is the arranging of the BIG trades, but these are so few and far between and so painstaking to orchestrate that it is almost never fun for everyone involved.<br />
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Luckily there is an abundance of very fun games, mostly designed in the last 20 years, that fill in the spectrum between these two extremes very nicely. Over the next several entries I will be laying out my perspective on board gaming in general as well as providing a few reviews of fun games with an explanation of what type of gaming experience they provide. I hope this might inspire folks to play more games--and help them choose the game with the right balance of choice and randomness rather than merely choosing a game at random.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-5066604944666967592011-10-29T15:52:00.004-04:002011-10-29T16:06:14.017-04:00No, Thanks (in Advance)!You've all seen it in an e-mail: "Blahbiddy-Blah. Please do X for me. Thanks in Advance!" How did it make you feel when you read that? Likely, you took it to mean that the person really appreciates you for helping them out. But is that really what they are saying? <div><br /></div><div>Taken literally, they are saying, "I'm thanking you right now for something that you haven't done yet. I don't know how well you will do it, so you may end up not helping me at all, but thanks anyway." That kind of 'thanks' doesn't strike me as very meaningful. Instead, it seems a lazy way of checking a social norm box.</div><div><br /></div><div>When someone does something exceptional for you, thank them at the point of delivery. If they tried their best but didn't end up being that helpful, you can still thank them (for their efforts, at least). Yeah, it might be one more e-mail clogging up somebody's inbox, but that is a small price for preserving a sense of value in the work that we do well.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-2413560885346982442011-10-23T18:13:00.004-04:002011-10-23T18:21:42.910-04:00Pursuit of ScienceScience is under attack by the ever masquerading, often lazy, sometimes malignant activity known as pseudo-science, but more often just called science. You don't just "do" science, you attainment it. Science is a goal. Just because you have charts and use data, does not mean you are using science. "The data don't lie" is the biggest lie of them all. The data could be wrong, not to mention being presented in a misleading fashion. Truly pursuing science means reaching to attain science. It is not cheap and it is not easy. . Pursue science, my friends. It is a worthy undertaking.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-2600590574951902622011-09-11T22:17:00.005-04:002011-09-11T22:38:48.114-04:00Waterman<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZhxdJwq9PiW6CLqHHajhxYJzuVw-VyGD5sjwZYq33ko12FboHjAUQBE9ddGHhdRIjvegHmHJycxG057Bxr5BcAat_EHTtVSZo-U0Gu2E_ZhmDYWzFn3LrCgEMVd_Tj2DXBpgHtQ/s1600/MosesLand.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZhxdJwq9PiW6CLqHHajhxYJzuVw-VyGD5sjwZYq33ko12FboHjAUQBE9ddGHhdRIjvegHmHJycxG057Bxr5BcAat_EHTtVSZo-U0Gu2E_ZhmDYWzFn3LrCgEMVd_Tj2DXBpgHtQ/s400/MosesLand.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651292466816584210" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Vidasu Valley & Moses's Path to the Sacred Gate</b></div><p class="MsoNormal">Aaron stared out of the hut’s window as the rain began to patter down on his hatch roof.<span> </span>It started lightly, but was quickly gathering force, both of wind and water. He looked over at his wife, Sarah, standing next to him and leaning out the window.<span> </span>As the thunderstorm intensified, so did her gaze.<span> </span>She was looking west toward the encroaching darkness.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">All across the lower Vidasu Valley it was the same—men and women staring out of their windows at the drops pelting the wide, dry riverbed on either side of a paltry stream that ran through Vidasunha Village.<span> </span>Those with children held them close, whispering the ancient stories of the Lightening Prince in their little ears as they stared in awe at the mighty force of the wind bending the trees that dared grow on the ridge tops.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>But Aaron was not looking west toward the impending storm or at the riverbed or at the trees on the ridge.<span> </span>He looked east toward the distant plateau that stretched across the horizon, rising abruptly from the river valley like an enormous wall.<span> </span>Aaron feared that this storm would not be like the others.<span> </span>He feared that the admonition he had been given by his half-starved friend was not just a delusional rambling.<span> </span>But most of all he feared that his wife would find out what he had done.<span> </span>He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a squeeze.<span> </span>Her mouth curled up into a half smile, unconsciously it seemed, since all her conscious attention was on the storm.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The sky brightened slightly, indicating the first visible lightning strike over the horizon. <span> </span>Aaron began to mouth the prayer.<span> </span>His heart was not in it, but he made an extra effort to appear cheerful.<span> </span>Sarah was on the Rain Council after all, and it would not do for the husband of a councilwoman to abstain from the most important prayer.<span> </span>At first, as always, he could only hear himself say it.<span> </span>However, at the first visible bolt in the sky, he began to speak louder, and he could hear Sarah beside him, though still softly:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in"><i>Light in the sky, chase the Rain,<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in"><i>Prick it here above my home<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in"><i>That it may bleed into my well,<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in"><i>Light in the sky, chase the Rain,<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in"><i>Vanquish it among the mountain tops,<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in"><i>That its lifeblood may flow from the East<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in"><i>Over the cliffs and into my fields.<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As the rain fell, the riverbed quickly muddied.<span> </span>Small puddles spilled out of their little depressions and joined up with others to form large puddles.<span> </span>The stream in the middle of it all seemed to run a little faster, and a little higher.<span> </span>But this was just the teaser.<span> </span>The main event would come when a slight depression in the middle of the plateau overflowed, becoming a waterfall.<span> </span>It was amazing how quickly the riverbed would fill after that, rising right up to the banks, but never spilling over.<span> </span>It was Aaron’s favorite part of a storm, but today he anticipated it with dread.<span> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In the pauses between flashes of lighting, Aaron offered up a prayer of another sort.<span> T</span>his one was silent—and blasphemous—that the Cloud Demons would escape the Lightening Prince, just this once, and the rain would pass on.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p>***</p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;">Several miles east of the village, Moses hurried along the southern ridge of the valley, heading toward the plateau.<span> </span>With the wind at his back, he should have felt light. But he was weak. <span> </span>He had not eaten in three days. He was sore and cramped from kneeling on the cold stone floor of a repentance cell for the past week.<span> </span>The tendons in his knees felt like they might snap with each step.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Luckily, the trail was still dry, though he felt a rain drop on his hand, and then another on his cheek. Even after everything that had happened, and with everything that he now knew, the rain on his face still gave him a little jolt energy.<span> </span>It could not be helped, it was wired into a part of him no cynicism or anger could efface. But the storm would soon make this trail his enemy. It would become a mix of mud and puddles hiding roots and rocks.<span> </span>His stomach tightened and he had to bend over to heave, but there was nothing to come up.<span> </span>He needed rest and water.<span> </span>He would likely get neither until it was too late.<span> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The uncertainty sapped his strength further.<span> </span>Was it already too late?<span> </span>He had no way of knowing.<span> </span>He staggered on, willing his legs forward with the knowledge that to rest now would be to fail and, whether they knew it or not, everyone in the village was depending on him.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center">***<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Moses had spoken so quickly when Aaron visited him in his cell less than an hour before—something about a water gateway, whatever that was, and the river rising higher than ever before and everyone being swept down the valley and into the sea. Aaron could not make his mind understand what his friend was saying. It just sounded like a string of cryptic and impossible statements.<span> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The village being swept away? The Priests had to beg for water from the Lightening Prince. Presumably, they were up on the plateau among the Oestalta Mountains at this very moment, shattering clay vases in honor of the Lightening Prince, as an offering that he might slay the clouds and let their water flow down to the village. But Moses had said the Priests were not in the mountains.<span> </span>Without the Priest’s prayers, wouldn’t that only make it more likely that the falls would not spill forth any water at all?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">No, no, Moses had practically screamed, but he had not had time to explain.<span> </span>He just needed to be let out of the cell and he would explain everything later.<span> </span>Aaron would be a real hero; he just had to trust Moses.<span> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The thing was, Aaron did trust Moses.<span> </span>Throughout their childhood, Moses had always been more faithful and honest than Aaron.<span> </span>Still he did not see how any of what Moses was saying was possible.<span> </span>And it had taken all his courage to lie to Sarah, saying that he was going to check on the irrigation channels one last time before the storm, when really he was sneaking away to see his imprisoned friend.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">While the fear of being found out ate away his courage, his only regret was not thinking to bring any food to give to Moses.<span> </span>Perhaps that pang of guilt was what had given him the strength he needed to risk his life, pry the cell door open with a nearby steel rod, and free Moses from his captivity.<span> </span>Moses had shown this gratitude with a weak smile and dashed off toward the plateau along the valley's southern ridge.<span> </span>Aaron dropped the steel rod and ran home.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">What Aaron did not have the strength for was to let on that he knew anything about the supposed peril they were all in, not even to his wife.<span> </span>They would never believe him anyway.<span> </span>He hardly believed it himself. The river had never crested the banks in Aaron’s entire life. The Priests knew exactly how many Cloud Demons to beg the Lightening Prince to slay among the mountains. Even if Moses was right and against all odds, he somehow succeeded in reaching the secret gate and stopping the supposed flood, Aaron would be hanged for faith-crime and maybe a bit of blasphemy for good measure. <span> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p>***</p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Moses reached the base of the plateau. To the north, high above the river bed, he could see that a faint trickle had appeared over the edge of the plateau—the waterfall was just beginning.<span> </span>It misted away on the long descent to the valley floor below.<span> </span>He wanted to take a moment to muster some energy in his legs, but instead he just plowed on, starting the steep ascent up the now slick switchback trail carved into the side of the nearly sheer face of the plateau.<span> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The rain was falling heavier now, but Moses was still ahead of the worst of the storm.<span> </span>This one would be bad; as a Waterman in the Preisthood he had been trained in what to look for, what to listen for, and how to sense the storm’s personality.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">He had taken the trail up to the Sacred Gate once before, but that was years ago, and he had been heavily drugged on the Priests’ incense and a carefully cultivated sense of mysterious grandeur at what he had been about to witness.<span> </span>And what a sight it had been! After the grueling hike to the top of the cliff, the sight of the enormous curved wall holding back a vast reservoir of fresh water had been a revelatory experience for Moses. How important he had felt to be the keeper of such a precious resource.<span> </span>He remembered how much he yearned to share the experience with his friends and family in the village below.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But the Priests had him sworn to secrecy.<span> </span>And now that revelation was just another bitter burden for Moses to bear.<span> </span>The Priests had become too carried up in all their lore.<span> </span>In their delusions of grandeur, they had lost a sense of the practical.<span> </span>They had not established any contingency plans.<span> </span>There were only two Gate Stewards overseeing the Sacred Gates at any given time.<span> </span>No reliable way had been established to quickly communicate between the Gate Stewards and the Priests in the valley, miles away and thousands of feet below. Moses could not help but imagine all the possible tragic mishaps that could befall the village under such neglect.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Surely, the village had a right to know that their trust was misplaced.<span> </span>By bringing these risks to light, Moses would be protecting the whole Vidasu Valley.<span> </span>After all was that not the oath he had taken when he was anointed a Waterman in the Priesthood?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The Priests did not see it that way.<span> </span>They saw his call for transparency as a challenge to their mandate to protect the village.<span> </span>The traditions had been kept, unchanged for many generations, because they worked, the Priests had said.<span> </span>Who was he to upset the delicate balance of the already difficult life that villagers lived in the dry river valley?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p>***</p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Aaron saw a flash and heard an enormous CRACK.<span> </span>Sarah shrieked with a cry of pure ecstasy. Within seconds the whole valley was awash in the shouts of the faithful, cheering the Lightening Prince as He corralled the Cloud Demons east, over the plateau and toward the mountains of the Oestalta Range.<span> </span>Aaron screamed along with his wife.<span> </span>But his was a scream of fear.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p>***</p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The switchback trail was at river.<span> </span>Moses struggled to retain his footing as his legs burned and his stomach wretched.<span> </span>With every other switchback in the trail Moses faced the waterfall.<span> </span>The trickle had turned into a steady flow.<span> </span>The storm had caught up to him as he climbed the side of the plateau. He had no idea if he was already too late.<span> </span>Moses knew that the Sacred Gate was usually regulated by the Gate Stewards long before the first rains fell. But he had no idea if that was necessary or just another tradition with a long forgotten origin.<span> </span>He was not trained in Sacred Gate operation.<span> </span>Only Priests were.<span> </span>And if Moses’s suspicions were correct, all the Priests were dead. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-65846082428973941172011-09-07T16:08:00.008-04:002011-09-11T22:39:25.372-04:00First Writing Course CompleteI just finished up my Arlington Adult Ed writing course. Perhaps not surprisingly, I was the only guy in the class. But even in a room full of women there were a lot of different writing styles on display each week. It was a lot of fun having to come up with a new scene or story each week and then sharing the stories with my classmates. I definitely felt a sense of community with them long before the 8-week course ended.<div><br /></div><div>So now I have a stock pile of 3 or 4 super-short stories that I prepared for the course. Because I often threw them together in a few hours, they are still very "drafty", but I've been working on cleaning up one of them, titled: "Moses". It should be ready to post in a few days. As a teaser of sorts, I'm posting an early version of a map of Vidasunha and its surroundings.</div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2_Ak9PtFq9kkt-c5UM1wowtlU1cTTMutpLf7Y41MFX0DvuIDrfWrV4Ht93De3FKn__wH8lFoj0tx_3AkY_iDip4pjPT7CoP-xIwUTsjiVBksmIlQGVkWjycWs5WAUzcJDOLcztg/s1600/MosesLand.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2_Ak9PtFq9kkt-c5UM1wowtlU1cTTMutpLf7Y41MFX0DvuIDrfWrV4Ht93De3FKn__wH8lFoj0tx_3AkY_iDip4pjPT7CoP-xIwUTsjiVBksmIlQGVkWjycWs5WAUzcJDOLcztg/s400/MosesLand.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5649717889644000514" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span">Map of the Vidasu Valley</span></b></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-57929064704502358092011-07-21T08:40:00.010-04:002011-07-21T11:25:21.731-04:00My First Foray into Short Fiction: "Temptress of Fate"<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Temptress of Fate</b></div><span class="Apple-style-span"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><o:p><i> Jeff Shepley</i></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The elevator was empty when she entered on the 7<sup>th</sup> floor.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Five floors to pass through on the descent to the lobby—five opportunities for a stranger to enter and judge her with a quick glance and an awkward silence.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Mercifully, the elevator reached the lobby without delay.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> </span>As she passed through the elevator doors and into the lobby she pulled her skirt down as far she could.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It still just reached mid-thigh, but you can only cover so much with so little. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Descending the apartment complex’s front steps and feeling the cool Sunday morning air wash over her gave her goose bumps.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The sun cast an angelic glow on each shiny surface as she blinked the hazy sleep from her eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>On any other day, she would have stopped to savor the cleansing tingle produced by the faint struggle waged on her skin between the cool air and the subtle warmth of the sun’s rays.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"></span>But today she just bent her head, letting her hair fall over her eyes and began to walk away from the apartment building steps at the quickest pace her three inch stilettos would allow.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The first order of business was to put some distance between her and the possibility, however slight, that she’d hear her name called out from a certain 7<sup>th</sup> floor balcony.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The thought alone was cringe-worthy,<span class="Apple-style-span"></span> <span class="Apple-style-span"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; "><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">God, I hope he doesn’t even remember my name</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> </span>Two blocks later, and with that risk out of the way, she looked up at the city skyline for guidance.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>“My lucky day,” She whispered under her breath with a faint smile that no one would see.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Recognizing that she was already headed in the right direction was a small victory along the morning’s path to recovery.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>As she plowed ahead with renewed vigor, she felt betrayed by the duplicity of a city whose landmarks served as a beacon guiding her to the privacy and comfort of her apartment, but whose streets paved the way, quite literally, for this agonizingly public and uncomfortable morning excursion in the first place.<span class="Apple-style-span"></span> <span class="Apple-style-span"><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; "><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">The ‘walk of shame’ is obviously a byproduct of urban culture. It’s not like girls in Nowheresville, USA don’t end up in strange beds on Saturday nights.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They have tequila, even there.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Only there is no way in hell you’re walking home from wherever you end up.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And who can tell how short your skirt is or how high your heels are when you’re riding shotgun in a Ford F150?<o:p></o:p></i></p> </span>As she let her mind wander through the logistical mine field that must be the one-night stand in rural America, she found her physical progress halted momentarily by the orange glowing hand on the other side of the crosswalk.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She looked up and down the busy street, weighing the risk of dashing between each opening against the risk, increasing with every moment, that she might run into someone she knew.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"></span>She wasn’t the only one eyeing potential gaps in the flow of traffic.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Just then a tall man jogged up alongside her.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He was sweating lightly and his dark skin glistened as he bounced in place, panting softly as he waited for his opportunity to tempt fate.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>As she looked left and he looked right, their eyes met, and their gaze held.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Perhaps in defiance of this stupid situation she had gotten herself into, or perhaps because she was startled by just how piercingly blue his eyes were—she held her side of the gaze.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And he held his.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>A shiver ran up her spine.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She had a sense that in that moment he saw through her own eyes and into her soul.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She couldn’t help thinking that even if she had been wrapped up in a parka, she’d be just as exposed to his penetrating gaze as if she were wearing even less than she was now.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span> <span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">See searched his eyes for meaning,<o:p></o:p></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span"> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; "><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Is he judging me?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He must know that I’m wondering whether he is or isn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Surely, now that we’ve made eye contact for this long he has to say something.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>‘Good morning’ would be the worst, but it’s inevitable. I can almost hear him saying it even with his mouth closed—so much sarcasm and condescension in his voice.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>God, just like my parents used to do when I slept in past noon after staying out too late.<o:p></o:p></i></p> </span>He smiled and held out his hand.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>“I’m John.”<span class="Apple-style-span"></span> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">This cannot be happening to me right now.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span>She smiled noncommittally and willed him to just give up and jog away. Even so, he stood there unfazed, hand still outstretched, still bouncing in place, still smiling.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She envisioned the scene as it would surely play out two years from now:<span class="Apple-style-span"></span> <span class="Apple-style-span"><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; "><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Me and John, engaged to be married in two weeks, yet finding time to attend his ten year high school reunion.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>John’s high school girlfriend walks up to us right as we enter the banquet hall, like she has been waiting for this all night.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The ex’s name turns out to be Chastity.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>No ring on her finger—how terribly convenient.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The two of them had split up after senior year because she got into Stanford and he was staying in-state.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The split had been on friendly terms but they had lost touch through college.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Chastity gives John a hug that lasts too long, takes an exaggerated deep breath, sighs heavily and says, “It’s so nice to see you, John.”<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>There is no way I am going to let Chastity and John get into a big memory fest about summers up at “Lake Skinny-Dip” and winters skiing on “Remember-When Mountain”.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>But Chastity seems content to leave the distant past behind, somehow knowing the dark secret that will cut the deepest is tied up in a more recent memory. <o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; "><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; "><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>“So how did you all meet?” Chastity asks with superficially veiled malice.<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; "><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; "><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">A simple question but I don’t dare let John respond.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>“I met her on the street during her walk of shame,” he would say.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>That was the only think he could possibly say, right?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; "><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; "><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">So I step in, “It’s not that exciting of a story, really.”<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>That little preamble was essential.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m laying the ground work for ensuring that no awkward questions get asked later.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If you expect the story to be boring you tune it out.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I go on, “We first met one day at a crosswalk. Then we ran into each other a week later at the grocery store, in the ice cream aisle no less.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Hahah,” I am laughing now, but I know it sounds forced.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>No matter—really the whole point is to put conversational distance between us and that god forsaken morning.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I press on, “John loves ice cream of course.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Anyway, we remember each other and he asked me if I’d like to go to this frozen yogurt place on...” I am about to say on 10<sup>th</sup> street when I realize with horror that maybe John used to take Chastity there.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>God, why is this so difficult?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>“…on a Tuesday.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And I’m like, who goes on a date on Tuesday?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Anyway, I said yes, of course, and obviously I so glad I did.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We talked for hours.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We had to get two frozen yogurts so the owners would stop looking at us like we were taking up too much valuable table space.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Hahah, you know how it is?”<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The worst part of it is that through it all, I am staring right into Chastity’s eyes, trying to hold them as tightly as John’s is doing to my eyes right now.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>When Chastity looks over at John during the story, the hairs on my neck stand up.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Is he following the story or is his mind stuck in that moment when we just met, thinking about who I had shared a bed with just moments before.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Was he somehow communicating these salacious details to Chastity with that hot blue stare?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></i></p> </span>She snapped back to the present, John was still holding out his hand, with only the slightest hint of rejection beginning to furrow up on his brow, perhaps inspired by the confused look she was giving him,<span class="Apple-style-span"></span> <span class="Apple-style-span"><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; "><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">This was not part of the atonement for last night’s sins.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>You aren’t allowed to meet your future husband while on a walk of shame.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If I had had time to get home, take a shower, put on a cute summer dress and then walk down to the street to pick up some milk from the corner store, then you could meet your husband, your neighbor, your pastor, whomever, it didn’t matter.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>But on a walk of shame—it just wasn’t right.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It could never work out.<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; "><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">But those eyes!<o:p></o:p></i></p> </span>Somehow J<span class="Apple-style-span" >ohn’s eyes had wrapped all around her and through her and knew all these things that she was thinking, even now, and told her to t</span>ake a chance anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span"></span> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" >She tucked her hair behind her ears, reached out and grasped his sweaty hand. “Hi, John, I’m Megan.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p><p></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-11394170215058462552011-07-15T11:35:00.008-04:002011-07-15T12:19:52.807-04:00Fictionalization of Second GlanceThis past week I started an 8-week fiction writing class through <a href="http://www.apsva.us/adulted">Arlington County's Adult Education programs</a>. The course is VERY basic, but my motivation is more than just educational--I'm taking the course primarily to motivate myself to write. So far, I'm about halfway done with the draft of my first assignment--a short scene (which I think could double as a very short story).<div><br /></div><div>My 2 or 3 blog readers may have noticed that I have not blogged nearly as often in recent years. I ascribed this not to a lack of ideas so much as a diminished enthusiasm for writing in the blog medium. So I hope to express some of my new "bloggable" ideas through the medium of short fiction (stories anywhere from 500-2,000+ words). By "fictionalizing" my ideas--I'm sure there is a more accurate term--I hope to bring more life to the idea.</div><div><br /></div><div>So why not a novel? I think my recent increased interest in writing short fiction has stemmed from a thoroughly practical matter. Weaving many ideas into a novel-length piece would take a lot of time and much effort, and frankly, I'm not up to the challenge right now. I came to a <a href="http://2ndglance.blogspot.com/2005/08/writing-my-first-blockbuster-novel.html">similar conclusion 6 years ago</a>. But also, I've recently started reading short fiction and was inspired by what Paulo Bacigalupi was able to do with the medium in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1597802026/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=secoglan-20&linkCode=as2&camp=217145&creative=399377&creativeASIN=1597802026">Pump Six and Other Stories</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div><div>Writing fiction, even short pieces, will take me a lot longer than writing a blog post, so I would not expect my contributions to this site to increase. In fact, I'm considering migrating to a more reader-friendly format for longer pieces. Suggestions welcome.</div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-47002672782156899392010-12-07T19:26:00.004-05:002010-12-07T19:42:47.875-05:00Quick tips to increase productivity: Part I<div>Here are some quick and easy tips to increase your productivity:</div><div><br /></div>1. Use the restroom to plan ahead. In a busy schedule, there are few natural breaks. But everyone has to submit to the call of nature. I find that taking just a minute or two to assess your current activity, whether you are being productive, and what you should do to make progress in the next 15-30 minutes after your break, can be an extremely productive activity. Use this time to reboot a stalled out work day.<div><br /></div><div>2. Floss your teeth while sitting down. I find that one reason I hate to floss is that it is annoying to just stand there in front of the mirror wasting what seems like 2 minutes threading string between my teeth. Instead, grab your floss and then grab a seat. Sitting down in a relaxed position makes flossing seem less like a chore and more like a reflective moment of treating yourself to personal grooming. How is this more productive? Well, if that alternative is not flossing and flossing is a priority for you, then getting yourself to do it is quite the production increase!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-76954127507348395702010-08-16T22:51:00.008-04:002010-08-17T10:17:12.788-04:00"Going to Mars with Peter"Our brains have a propensity toward seeing patterns and making connections. We also have hardwired within us a desire not just to understand things, but to do so quickly (likely a useful trait when we needed to understand that a boulder rolling down the hill was probably going to keep on doing so, and we better get out of the way!). I think the combination of these two aspects of our physiology attribute a great deal toward our belief in the supernatural. Specifically, we see patterns in the events and world around us that we don't understand and the easiest explanation is that, of course, these patterns were made by someone, just like every car and every chair has a maker. Since we don't see the maker around us, we attribute the patterns to an unseen, "godly" maker. That doesn't mean that this is the correct explanation, but it is certainly one that has been satisfactory for most of us for most of our history.<div><br /></div><div>I may not ascribe to that view of the origin of patterns around us, but that doesn't stop my brain from searching for them. And this week, circumstances aligned in such a way that I found a pleasant pattern in my own life.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am embarking over the next few months on the final chapter in my System Engineering master's degree program at Johns Hopkins. The capstone project, which will consume my extracurricular hours until December, is the development of an aerial robot to survey the Valles Marineris on Mars. I find it fitting that 8 years ago, during the summer after my senior year in high school, it was a space settlement design competition that I participated in, in Cape Canaveral, Florida, that first got me interested in engineering. The goal then was to design a Martian outpost that could support hundreds or thousands of settlers. Our project leader was a devoted and enthusiastic classmate named Peter (the type of kid who wore a star trek outfit to school, though for his sake, it was during Halloween season). My friend, Robert Yao, and I, being somewhat more interested in going to Florida than staying up all night writing requirements for an imaginary extraterrestrial apartment complex, endearingly joked that we were "Going to Mars with Peter." </div><div><br /></div><div>In preparation for that trip all those years ago, I read Robert Zubrin's "The Case for Mars" and was at once fascinated at the idea of a manned mission to the Red Planet. Ever since, I've found the plans to return to the moon about as exciting as a road trip to Cleveland. As I bone up on Mars facts now, I'll be much more concerned with the impact of eroding dust and the low atmospheric pressure on a flying robot than on methods for terraforming the planet so that the 3014 World Cup could be played on the (no longer) red planet. </div><div><br /></div><div>Something about coming full circle in my education fills me with a sense of completeness and pleasant, mild satisfaction. Now, if I wasn't human, I would probably say something more logical, like "well, really it would only be 'full circle' if the settlement competition had occurred during my first semester at school." But I am human and this seems a pretty innocuous occasion to indulge myself, so, yeah, I'll say it, isn't it amazing how so often life just happens to work out like this?!</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-83677744196579344332010-05-30T16:02:00.005-04:002010-06-02T09:11:18.024-04:00Why you should believe in God -- Part IIIIn <a href="http://2ndglance.blogspot.com/2010/05/why-you-should-believe-in-god-part-i.html">Part I</a> and <a href="http://2ndglance.blogspot.com/2010/05/why-you-should-believe-in-god-part-ii.html">II</a>, I gave you reasons why you should believe in God. In Part III, we'll explore why believing in God is important.<div><br /></div><div><b>Reason #1: God tells us what is right and wrong</b>. If we didn't have God to tell us, how would we know that murder, theft, and rape are wrong? Imagine how much of these evils there would be in the world if God hadn't given us these important rules to live by. Think about yourself; imagine if God never told you not to murder or steal. If you saw a skinny child shivering in the street begging for food--and a stranger came up and gave the kid a piece of bread--what would stop you from walking up to the child, ripping the bread out of her little hands, and pushing her in front of the next bus to stop her from annoying you with her whines that her tummy hurts. Don't worry, that would never happen, because without God, no stranger would ever give a hungry little kid any bread anyway. Oh, but if God tells you to murder and steal then it is okay. Also, if He tells you to marry little girls to old men, or to cut off pieces of babies' genitals, then that is okay too!</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Reason #2: God gives us life after we die</b>. What luck! After your body dies, your spirit will go to heaven where you will have a mansion and will be with God all the time for an infinite amount of time. Because of this fact, nothing that happens on Earth is really that bad. Even if something terrible happens, its okay because the innocent people go to heaven and the bad people go to hell. So don't worry too much about the world getting blown up by nuclear bombs at the hands of terrorists--it just means you'll get to heaven sooner! If it wasn't for heaven, what would be the point of this whole life? Why would you care about anything if it was all just going to end after you die. Why get up in the morning? Why learn about nature and science and the world around us? There'd be no point; the world would be worthless. Just a bunch of cells dividing then dying. </div><div><br /></div><div>So now when somebody asks you why it is important to believe in God, you can reply:</div><div><br /></div><div>"Isn't it obvious?"</div><div> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-17045154572511770382010-05-22T07:54:00.006-04:002010-05-27T00:08:32.123-04:00Why you should believe in God -- Part IIIn <a href="http://2ndglance.blogspot.com/2010/05/why-you-should-believe-in-god-part-i.html">Part I</a>, I gave several scientific reasons for why one should believe in God. As it turns out, Part I was just a red herring--written as a mere aside to the main event. In Part II, I will explain why scientific and rational inquiry is highly overrated when it comes to the subject of God. True theists (and I hope you count yourself among them when I'm through), have a better reason for believing.<div><br /></div><div><b>Reason #2: Have a little Faith</b>. There is a lot of debate about faith and reason and whether the two are compatible. First, let's explain the difference between the two. Faith is belief in the absence of reproducible evidence (a true virtue!). Reason is belief based on the presence of verifiable evidence or based on logic. Think about a court case--an eye witness can put someone away for life, even death row; that is how solid first hand experience is. Yet data, on the other hand, can be used to argue either side of the case (it's easy to manipulate and misdirect with numbers). "Science" spends a lot of time trying to convince us that God does not exist. Fortunately, with faith, you can believe in God without having to study science or think things through logically. God made both science and logic, so obviously these cannot be used as evidence against the existence of God. </div><div><br /></div><div>I know there is probably still one smug doubter out there reading this, asking, "If God made science and logic, why doesn't He use these to prove to us that He exists?" I'll tell you why! God is not big on science. God is big on faith. He wants you to believe in Him because people tell you to--they are his witnesses, just like in a court case. Just make sure you don't listen to the people who tell you his name is Yahweh or Allah. As long as you remember His name is spelled G-O-D, you'll be okay!</div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes God sends little shivers up your spine to tell you that He loves you or approves of what you are doing; this is to help reaffirm your faith and make you a witness of God. When the people who say Yahweh and Allah sends them shivers too, you'll know that actually those are just neurons firing in their spines.</div><div><br /></div><div>Isn't it obvious?!</div><div> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-69912066053758293352010-05-18T22:27:00.011-04:002010-05-21T15:51:02.487-04:00Why you should believe in God -- Part IThis is a first post in a series in which I explore one of the least controversial issues in America. Believing in God. According to numerous <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/story/2008/06/23/ST2008062300818.html">polls</a> (<a href="http://www.christianpost.com/blogs/health/2009/01/religiosity-in-america-a-gallup-report-by-states-but-what-about-the-relationship-29/index.html">just</a> Google it), nearly everyone in America believes in God. Okay maybe there are a few pockets of unbelief in the Northeast and the Northwest, but those are just a bunch of liberals, so they don't really count.<div><br /></div><div>But let's say you count yourself with those latte sipping, bleeding hearts on the fringes of America. I am taking it upon myself to convince you to believe in God. Why am I taking on this task? Well, I could try to convince you to believe in intelligent design, but <a href="http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2005/10/22/opinion/polls/main965223.shtml">not as many Americans believe</a> in that--since believing in God is a prerequisite--so I'm taking on the easier job first.</div><div><br /></div><div>But what is my motivation? Well, contrarian opinions sow disunity and I'm trying to unify our country in the name of peace. I don't want Armageddon to come before I have kids and get a chance to teach them all the Bible stories after all! </div><div><br /></div><div>If you are like most Americans and already believe in God, you can stop reading now since you already know the Truth!</div><div><br /></div><div>For all the rest of you schlups who never bothered to attend Sunday school, here is the first reason to believe in God:</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Reason #1: Take a quick glance around you.</b> The natural world is full of amazing and diverse beauty; it is too amazing to have just happened. In a random world you'd expect just as much ugly and useless stuff as beautiful and useful wonders for us to enjoy. That's probability; you may have learned about it in school. The fact that there are so many things for us to enjoy like every kind of food from corn to broccoli, and even a wide variety of dogs to be our companions, everything from huge saint bernards to little chihuahuas. This couldn't be chance, someone (or something) had to organize all the little atoms into molecules and molecules into cells and cells into life!</div><div><br /></div><div>But why would God create any bad things, like tornadoes and poison berries? Well, have you ever had a cool glass of water after running in hot weather? How much better is the water after running than if you were just sitting around watching TV? You see, God creates bad things so that we appreciate good things (note: The Devil and his demons also tempt people to do bad things, but that's for another time, this is about God!). But what if the tornado crushes your house and kills your brother and your little sister ate some poison berries and passed away. Don't worry; they are with God now in Heaven (if they were baptized), so they are happier than you, you sad schmuck.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sorry, I digressed a bit. Just because it is improbable that the world just happened to be the way it is doesn't mean it is impossible, right? There is still a chance that maybe God didn't make the Earth and all life that is on it...</div><div><br /></div><div>Wrong.</div><div><br /></div><div>You may have heard a so called scientist, maybe even a teacher at your public school, claim that life can "evolve" through this process called "evolution." The main problem with evolution is that it's just a theory. These self-proclaimed scientists (or maybe some backward school like Oxford gave them a degree) will say that evolution is a testable hypothesis with a lot of evidence to back it up. Well, if that were true they wouldn't still call it a theory. Don't believe those cheap peddlers of nonsense.</div><div><br /></div><div>Besides, even if they were right, which they aren't, you should still believe in God. How did the universe begin if there was no God? Who caused the Big Bang (if that even happened...it's just a theory)? What was around before the Big Bang created all the space in the universe? You guessed it--God was around!</div><div><br /></div><div>Some silly people might ask, "but who created God?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Isn't it obvious? </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-18335074386780525522010-05-03T10:22:00.006-04:002010-05-03T10:58:16.908-04:00This Label is Nuts<div>I'm a fan of Emerald Nuts because they are cheap. I find that they are typically cheaper than Planters and on par with the store brand, at least at Safeway where I typically purchase them. As we well know, nuts are not a low fat/low calorie food. As such, I find it helpful to check the label and ensure that I have an idea of the appropriate portion to consume given my desired caloric intake. </div><div><br /></div><div>The clever folks at Emerald Nuts have found a clever way to both comply with federal nutrition labeling guidelines and obscure this nutritional information while I'm consuming their delicious product. In the image below you can see that the "serving size" and "servings per container" information are conveniently lost when the perforated shrink-wrapping is removed from around the screw top. The rest of the information is essentially useless if you don't know the serving size that it is referencing. You might expect that I, as the consumer, would be more cautious in my consumption of the product due to an aversion to accidentally consuming vastly more calories than I had intended; however, I've found that quite to the contrary, in my blissful ignorance I can unconsciously consume what I later learned to be several servings without so much as a dent in my appetite.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyhow, kudos to Emerald for clever packaging. By the way, a serving size of almonds is 1/4 cup or 1 oz (about 20 almonds).</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHHh9iQPb3pFUQdm71gwmvLpqt9aMNOpMedYqeOSt0PkNQv_Zf9iRknW8HtcuUghPtEMZj6jCYtFm3NwZC1dRrN3icqHUiO9nSfqlk2kTihbn_T3l61hiT6PsHvXEdAoKcskW7jA/s1600/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHHh9iQPb3pFUQdm71gwmvLpqt9aMNOpMedYqeOSt0PkNQv_Zf9iRknW8HtcuUghPtEMZj6jCYtFm3NwZC1dRrN3icqHUiO9nSfqlk2kTihbn_T3l61hiT6PsHvXEdAoKcskW7jA/s400/photo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467049589914225682" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><a href="http://www.emeraldnuts.com/">Sorry for the poor image quality</a></u></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-36708408387985699002010-02-15T16:13:00.006-05:002010-02-15T16:24:46.714-05:00PowerPoint Animation -- Selection Window Time Saver<div style="text-align: left;">As a "PowerPoint" engineer (aka UVa Systems grad), I am ashamed to not have known about the "Selection and Visibility" feature in PP2007.</div><div><br /></div><div>Basically, this shows you a list of all the objects on your slide, for which you can proceed to give meaningful names. This is helpful in keeping things straight when making a slide with a lot of graphics and animations. Instead of working with a bunch of objects (some of which are hidden by others) with names like "Picture 9" and "Picture 13", you can use meaningful names like"PHL in 2007" and "PHL in 2012". </div><div><br /></div><div>To do this click on "Home", then "Select->Selection Window..." (button in the Editing window on the far right-hand side of the screen). This produces a pane which lists all the objects on the screen. You can even hide some object so that it is easier to select and manipulate the underlying ones.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib6A_cSYUIHKb3MO8ocaWFQGbeNX9ptheWIywJqC72LGcx-6IA2ica9m_bivxfrzo6l3kYQpXbUDy7nf6Eu-AW0lIFY6imk2LBUjwBBXtPfkNuo-4lqj25lvCHWxpPViLQpEWkGQ/s1600-h/SelectionPane.png"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib6A_cSYUIHKb3MO8ocaWFQGbeNX9ptheWIywJqC72LGcx-6IA2ica9m_bivxfrzo6l3kYQpXbUDy7nf6Eu-AW0lIFY6imk2LBUjwBBXtPfkNuo-4lqj25lvCHWxpPViLQpEWkGQ/s400/SelectionPane.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438583587469070146" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 38px; " /></a></div><div>I know this is my lamest post ever, but this feature made me happy for a few minutes.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-36165010091975534682009-09-28T23:13:00.006-04:002009-09-29T19:05:56.217-04:00Trolling the Seas of IdiocyBlogs with far more commenters (and by extension, readership) than mine sometimes find their comment section has degraded into a what is called a "flame war." A flame war typically begins when either an ignorant or careless commenters submits a comment which other readers find beneath the quality of the blog's accepted, though often unwritten, standard. The flamers, engaging in flaming, often quickly degrade into personal attacks on the victim's intelligence, or that of the victim's mother. Flamers often build off of each other, with little regard for the content of previous comments, frequently resulting in duplicative criticism of the victim. The flame war technically begins after the victim responds and is subsequently inundated with additional criticism, often involving a reference to the flamer's certitude that the victim's IQ is below a certain nominal level (typically 10-20). Ironically, it appears that the flamers maintain a cognitive image of themselves as the victims (citing themselves as victims of their subject's mental ineptitude).<div><br /></div><div>More clever, less depressing, and altogether vastly more entertaining is the "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Troll_(Internet)">troll</a>." A troll may have many motives, but a common one is to start a "pitched" or "reverse" flame war in which the initial flamer, out of ignorance of the subject, becomes the subject of the flaming. The ideal blog for such a troll is one in which the subject matter requires a degree of knowledge/fluency in order to comment intelligently and for which readers generally have strong opinions. A concise example of the beginnings of a troll-trap induced reverse flame war on a grammar blog is captured perfectly by the following xkcd.com comic:</div><div><br /></div><div> <img src="http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/effect_an_effect.png" alt="Effect an Effect" /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-87975525185445341022009-04-27T22:38:00.004-04:002009-04-27T23:06:43.250-04:00A world full of mugglesDictionary.com has three definitions for <a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/dic?q=muggle&search=search">muggle</a>. One is "a marijuana joint" that hearkens back to the 1920's. The next is a common person, especially one who is ignorant or without skills. Certainly, it was this latter definition that inspired J.K. Rowling to use the word to denote persons without magical powers in Harry Potter, which is the third definition dictionary.com provides.<br /><br />For this post, I'd like to focus on the second definition, in the context of the third. I have no problem with a dictionary adding the Rowling definition of muggle to the dictionary. Language is a medium of communicating meaning, and in today's world muggle is widely understood to convey the meaning Rowling invented in 1996.<br /><br />Certainly, today we don't use the word muggle to juxtapose a non-magical person with a magical one, since no magical people exist. If someone even dared to use the word in professional or formal conversation, they'd elicit either a hearty laugh acknowledging the allusion to one of the most popular series every written, or an uneasy laugh sympathizing with an ignoramous.<br /><br />We say ignoramous because no rational and informed person believes in magical people. Keep that in mind.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-30523296635740620882009-03-27T18:54:00.008-04:002009-03-28T08:59:48.956-04:00Interview with Daniella BrodskyI've called it an interview because the conversation was decidedly uni-directional. I arrived a little late to <a href="http://www.frontpagerestaurant.com/">The Front Page</a> in Washington, DC, and Daniella had already finished her daily writing and was enjoying a glass of sauvignon blanc. Daniella, perhaps most famous for her novel <span style="font-style: italic;">Diary of a Working Girl</span>, was seated at the bar with a well worn copy of White Oleander. She admits to having read it more than once, but more on that later. Now if that isn't a toxic signal to any man, I'm not sure what qualifies, yet Daniella turned out to be anything but.<br /><br />(Note, I didn't have my tape recorder on me so the following is not verbatim. Daniella, feel free to call me out if I've misrepresented any of your statements.)<br /><br />Me: Daniella, do you often write at bars?<br />D: I like to get there early before all the hustle and bustle. Seeing as I don't have a "day job" it's not that difficult.<br /><br />Me: In a few words, what would you say is the genre of your novels?<br />D: Women's fiction. About women, for women.<br /><br />Me: Perhaps I'll be your first male reader. So, I see you're reading White Oleander (it's the movie edition and we spend a minute or two identifying all the actresses on the cover).<br />D: I've read it several times. In fact, one time I accidently left it in an airport bathroom. I had to get my friends on the next flight out to pick it up for me. It was probably sitting there for 2 or 3 hours. I was worried somebody would have gotten water all over it. But when I got it back it had all these little passages written inside the cover (she shows me the writing). It's 3 or 4 different people and the funny part is, none of the messages really make any sense, they are very stream of conscience, you know? I mean I'm not sure what makes sense to write in a copy of White Oleander left in an airport bathroom...<br /><br />Me: I've actually been trying to write for some time. My biggest problem, I think, is that I can't visualize the plot at the beginning. I'm afraid to start because I worry that I might write my way into a corner such that I can't make the plot work.<br />D: You shouldn't let that deter you. I never know what is going to happen when I start a novel. In fact, I once had one of my characters steal my story for about 10 pages. It was a real struggle. It took me 10 pages to wrestle the story back from this character. Some people say they know how the story will develop, but no one does. Not at the start. If you want to write, you have to write. Try to do it everyday. Even if it is just for 20 minutes.<br /><br />At this point, several beverages deep, I excuse myself to the restroom. As I squeeze by Daniella's chair and the wall, I'm impeded by a pair of crutches.<br /><br />D: You want them?<br />Me: The crutches?<br />D: Yes. They're mine. Take them.<br />Me: But clearly you must need them, right? I mean you don't just bring crutches to a bar if you don't need them. (As an aside, it may not be a bad way to get some pity. But Daniella did not strike me as some one looking for any of that.)<br />D: (Shrugs) All I'm saying is you can have them.<br /><br />I carefully steady the crutches as I squeeze through. A very strange and seemingly random bit of conversation. In any event, nature called and then I returned.<br /><br />Me: So your books are written for women. What would you say to your male fanbase?<br />D: (Laughs) Oh, him. I'd tell him to get a girlfriend.<br /><br />Me: Alright, just one more question. How is the author life treating you?<br />D: Emotionally, it's treating me well. I love it. Financially, quite a different story.<br />Me: So you'd like it if I went out and bought some of your books.<br />D: Actually, I'm indifferent. I get $0 for each book sold.<br /><br />(Clearly, Daniella forgets that the publishers get money for each book sold and if they make money from her books they are more likely to purchase her work in the future. But after a few adult beverages, I'm in no mood to spoil the atmosphere with economics talk.)<br /><br />At this point, the interview winds down. I thank Daniella and promise to read at least one of her books. If you interested, check out her website, <a href="http://www.daniellabrodsky.com/">daniellabrodsky.com</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-84200052187330966752009-02-25T16:56:00.005-05:002009-02-25T18:36:03.546-05:00Willful IgnoranceReligion and politics don't typically make good workplace discussion topics. Especially religion. Why not? A major reason is that our religious beliefs are tightly bound up with our individual identities. Therefore, when our beliefs differ from others, we tend to think of the situation as "I'm right and you're wrong." Even if no one says that explicitly, there is an implicit challenge to your beliefs when someone expresses their own.<br /><br />This causes tension.<br /><br />In fact, I think this tension is a big reason why we don't talk about religion with friends that don't share our beliefs. We think it will get in the way of our friendship by offending one or both of us. Yet if knowing someone believes differently than you causes offense, it must be because you care about what they think about your religion (and in some way you). And if you care about what they think, then shouldn't you try to find out what they think? And yet that requires you to talk about religion, the very thing we are avoiding by choice.<br /><br />If this is the case, it may be that we actually don't care much what our friends think about our religion. But if we don't care, then we wouldn't bother purposely avoiding it. I think it is more likely that we hit a psychological snag when these things are discussed openly. We no longer have plausible deniability. Before it is discussed openly, we hold convenient assumptions about their beliefs so we can think about how much fun we have otherwise. After, we can think of little else.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-1083183469946769072008-11-02T10:33:00.004-05:002008-11-02T11:01:29.052-05:00Obama or McCain?My general attitude toward government is that it is, in most cases, part of the problem not the solution. In 2004 I voted for Bush. I did it because I was ill-informed on his policy positions and I saw the Republican party as the party of fiscal restraint. I had just taken 2 economics courses and everything in the world seemed to start making sense.<br /><br />Bush betrayed me. His administration has led to huge deficits in non-military spending. He has led a horrendously planned and executed war in Iraq. The signs and decisions were already in place in 2004, I just hadn't taken the time to find out the facts. But still, I felt betrayed that the Republican brand had led me so far astray with respect to Bush.<br /><br />In 2006, I voted for Jim Webb, a Democrat, for Senator of Virginia. To punish the Republicans for misleading me 2 years prior? Yes, a little. But more so because if government is part of the problem, then a divided government can do less harm than one that is run by a supermajority party (see years 2002-2006).<br /><br />So this brings me to the 2008 Presidential election. However, unlike 2006, my residual feelings of betrayal and my less government philosophy are pulling me in opposite directions this time. A vote for Obama would give me the psychological satisfaction of voting against the Republicans. However, now that the Democrats have and will likely expand upon a large Congressional majority, I am nudged toward McCain to avoid disasterous over expansion of government that is likely to ensue (since McCain can veto all that wasteful spending legislation).<br /><br />So, since my single vote does not count in any practical way, I plan to vote on principle. It seems the "golden years" of prosperity came during the last Democratic presidency and a Republican congress, so I'll vote that way this election. Obama for President, and Republicans for Congress (i.e., Jim Gilmore for Senate).<br /><br />What if my vote were desicive, would I vote differently? Perhaps. But even then, I am very socially tolerant and I don't think I could bring myself to vote another George Bush a heartbeat from the presidency (in the guise of Sarah Palin).<br /><br />In the end Obama will win, I'm guessing he'll probably pick-up around 320 electoral votes, and the Democrats will pick up a decent majority in Congress. In the next four years we'll see a continued large deficit as spending is slightly increased but as taxes are also slightly increased. The Republicans will concede that they've lost their touch with mainstream American and get back to their roots of small government and individual responsibility. And by 2012, we'll have a Democratic president and a Republican Congress, our standing in the world will be much improved, and we'll be moving back toward a more free-trade, less protectionist economy that Obama and the Democrats will likely usher in in the next few years. I guess that is more of a hope than a prediction.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-17838177012181657012008-10-16T23:43:00.000-04:002008-10-17T10:54:20.134-04:00Boston LegalI have been on a spate of online TV watching. Heroes, 30rock, Chuck. And now I've come to Boston Legal.<br /><br />Let me start by saying this is not a show I ever thought I would watch before last week. If the only way available to watch BL was with commercials on TV (alt. univ. w/ no DVR), I'd just go without watching it at all.<br /><br />Yes BL is absurd. Yes BL is funny. But it is also at least a little bit, about law. And that's where it runs into problems. You see, the juries in BL land are suckers for an emotional hook. I find myself sympathizing with the opponents of the Boston Legal team. The opposing arguments are often very compelling. In fact, if you were to decide the case based on the proceedings up to --but excluding-- the closing arguments, you'd think the show wanted you to go with the opposing side. The BL case is often not supported by the evidence!<br /><br />But then the star BL lawyer saunters up to the jury and delivers an impassioned closing argument. I can't help but find the moment anti-climatic. It is clear that the audience is supposed to be swayed by this final twist, having appreciated the "human-side" or "spirit" of the law the BL lawyer has to remind the jury of (and us of). I'm sorry, but my verdict would be for the other guy in 4 out of the 4 episodes I've seen (season 5, episodes 1-4).Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14906887.post-35979236303284758652008-09-18T09:13:00.002-04:002008-09-18T09:22:21.890-04:00Are you feeling well?I think I have a case of the whichPoliticianIsTellingMoreLies-itis. I assume that politics has always been a race to the bottom, with politicians stretching the truth tighter than a pair of Usain Bolt's spandex on Rosie O'Donnell, but the only reason they get away with it is because we must like seeing Rosie O'Donnell in nasty-tight spandex. Seriously, if anybody says they are proud of how McCain or Obama is running their campaign, I'm going to laugh. Then I going to treat you like a elementary school student, because apparently that is when your mind stopped developing.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09078668225749387024noreply@blogger.com4