Snarky Comment

From a web site:

“Many useful academic materials are increasingly available via electronic online access.”

electronic online access? As opposed to, let’s say, “mechanical online access” or “steam-powered online access” or, in deference to the cyberpunks, “direct neural online access”?

Eris Gets Her Due!

An Android-based phone named after Eris! How amazingly cool is this?!? The Droid Eris, makes me wish I was a Verizon customer...

All This For One Little Rhyme?

Lemon Demon has a delightful little tune about the infamous Spring Heeled Jack (lyrics). I make this post only to document my quoting of this line:

And people in the area reek of mass hysteria

For some reason, this line has been making a lazy circuit in my head (completing a lap once every two and a half hours, which, perhaps, sheds light on the size of my head...)

Currently Reading

+ Logical Dilemmas: The Life and Work of Kurt Godel (by John W. Dawson)
+ Against the Day (by Thomas Pynchon)
+ If Einstein Had Been a Surfer (by Peter Kreeft)

Just started Logical Dilemmas. Kurt Godel was the greatest logician of the 20th century. John W. Dawson is one of the scholars responsible for the publication of Godel's Collected Works and is therefore well-qualified to write a biography and commentary on Godel. Godel's Incompleteness Theorems were the subject of my master's project in theology (basically a warning about how not to apply them to philosophical and theological topics).

Against the Day is long, to the tune of over a thousand pages. Mostly, my fiction reading these days is a bit shy of that (by some 700 plus pages). So far, the story is interesting, like most of Pynchon's work, and is filled with a cast of intriguing characters, crazy adventures, and deep wit. I know this will take me a while to finish, but so far, I am glad to be spending time in the company of the Chums of Chance. Hopefully, this will warm me up for the other two large novels I'm committed to reading in the coming year: Anathem (by Neal Stephenson) and The Brothers Karamazov (by, of course, Fyodor Dostoyevsky).

Peter Kreeft has never published a book that I have not (a) thoroughly enjoyed, and (b) been challenged and inspired by. Even his textbook on logic caused me to rethink my long standing prejudice against the "old" logic in favor of the "new" mathematical logic. If Einstein Had Been a Surfer is a conversation among three characters who individually represent science, philosophy, and mysticism (and yet, these are no two-dimensional allegorical personifications. Kreeft's characters are real people, even if they do not really exist). This book is about the search for a "Theory of Everything." The book itself does not present the details of such a Theory (no Nobel Prize in physics for Kreeft for this one!), but by talking around and through and about the issue, the reader is lead to understand better what such a theory would entail. As always from Kreeft, this work is a creative, well-reasoned piece of scholarship that is easy to take as entertainment (I'd say "mistake" but I rather suspect the reader is supposed to be entertained, in much the same way Plato entertained and instructed us with the Socratic dialogues). Recommended if you like thinking about everything.

Finding Love in Moonlight

What follows is fiction. This is not about anybody. Don't make any such assumptions, because you would be grievously mistaken...

I first saw you on the first of December. You were the moon, gently reflecting the light of the sun, bringing his light to my cold and empty night. Daylight is too bright for a sinner like me, too much of his revealing light shining in every crevice of my lies. You brought his light in slowly, waxing first from a mere sliver, giving me time to adjust to what I was beginning to see. At first I mistook you for a star, a twinkling angel in the firmament of my twilight, a bit of dazzle to distract me from the vast dark expanse of my vision. As the nights wore on, you shone more brightly, more fully, until at last I could not help but realize that you were no star, but a reflection of our star, the one true sun that lights our lands. So, you were the moon, and in your fullness, at your brightest, I saw only the light of the sun and learned therein that the day was not my enemy but rather my home. Funny, how at your brightest, I saw more clearly your flaws, your craters, which cast the only shadows in his light upon your face. Yet far from despising you, I loved you more, both for the individuality of those "flaws" and for the courage to allow his light to reveal them to everyone. For you cared only for the truth, for bringing a bit of the sun's light to those of us who crawl around in the night, covered in mud and slime, fearful of the heat of day. Men like me, who lived more like worms than men, until one night we might by chance look up from our blind writhing to see you there, smiling down at us. What I did not realize at the time, what I could not have understood at the time, was that I only saw your smile because of his light. Everything that I came to see, everything that I came to love, starting with my love for you, was only possible because of the sun's light. Without sunlight I would never have seen more than shadows, without the reflected sunlight on your face, I would never have known the beginnings of beauty. Though I now walk in the day, under the fullness of the sun's life-giving light, I cannot look upon his beauty directly. I still must see it reflected, his light bouncing from every created thing on this earth to bring joy and wonder and delight to my newly-opened eyes.

Sometimes, I miss you. I miss our long walks under the night sky, back when the only light I knew was what you reflected. I miss our animated discussions, our silly jokes, the enchanting sound of your voice: your singing, your laughing, your soft whsipers of love and hope. I miss you, and the missing hurts like a lost child. Without the moon, they say there is no life on earth. Yet, I still live. I live, and I am grateful... grateful that you brought light into my life, gave me the courage and the hunger to enter the daylight, to live as a human creature should live. You were the moon, and you gave me my first taste of real light, which led to real life and real love. It is too late to say everything I want to say, and that merely is what it is. But it is never too late to look up into the sky and whisper, "thank you." And so I say, "thank you."

Just Wondering

Counting backwards as the flame gets higher,
You tell yourself that there is no fire.
The heat you feel is just a lie,
You're much too bored to have to die

The cell phone rings, then drops the call,
Figure you miss one, you missed them all
Dinner's burning, can you smell the smoke?
It's just you cooking, and baby that's the joke

Wearily you laugh, tearfully you cry,
Tomorrow always comes, but never answers why

this moment

baby buddha
dressed in blue
how your mommy
must love you
bouncing on her
old brown knee
laughing at
eternity

Time to Return

Too long gone... no readers (which is mostly fine, though some of you I've missed like the dickens!) Time to retool this thing as a place to think and ramble (oh, wait... that what it's always been). Anyway, we'll see if we can start this thing up again. Even if it's just me, I can pretend to be in conversation with the nebulous and vaguely self-aware Internet.

Later (hopefully, tomorrow...)

Pneuma

the wind is my friend,
my lover,
my soul;
it fills me from the inside,
it moves me from without;
in it i
dance,
sing,
laugh,
run,
and,
sometimes,
fly;
the wind is my ocean
upon which i surf,
within which i swim,
it is my calm and my storm,
i know no other song
than its howl and whisper;
i know no other caress
than its breezes and gusts;
it is my spirit and my breath,
it is my life

Social Networking Confession

From the beginning, I hated the idea of social networking. MySpace seemed a stupid waste of time, and Facebook was its clean-cut, annoying kid brother. Pages were silly encyclopedia entries on persons who lacked reknown, and MySpace, let's be honest, was full of the most horrid page designs one can see outside of an acid trip.

Blogging was ok, in my book, because I'm an inveterate scribbler: recording the epic deeds of heroes on that green, large-lined paper from elementary school. True, most of those tales were never read by another living soul, much like this blog. But still, I wrote them back then, because, in some ways, I had no choice, and I'll continue to write now, in part for the same reasons. It's part of who I am (one of those parts I'll admit to in a mixed public forum like this; my kids can read my secret journals when I'm dead and learn about the other bits).

Having said all of that, I must confess that I have completely changed my judgment of social networking sites. The ability to casually and easily be in contact with friends both past and present (and the occasional stranger who becomes a future friend) is kinda nice, especially as the aging process robs me of the vitality of today and makes me nostalgic for bygone days (nostalgic, but not stupid; you can keep your time machines to yourself. I'll remain living in the present, even as a crusty old curmudgeon). I'm not saying these type of online services have changed my life, but by allowing me to catch a glimpse of names and faces from my youth, I feel a greater sense of... not exactly closure, but something between an ongoing closure and an expanding completeness. Does that make any sense?

As William Gibson famously pointed out, the Internet is the great waster of time. Social networking sites, doubly so. And, perhaps, contra to my earlier judgment, they are not so much "stupid" wastes of time as they are delightful flashes of retro-future connectivity: the present soul's brief nod and smile to a past that now is present somewhere besides the hazy photo album of memory. And maybe, just maybe, that is value enough.

Elementary Numbers for Breakfast

• 1967 is not a prime.
• 19 is a prime, so is 67.
• 1967 is sort of symmetrical, in binary (11110101111).
• 1967 in binary is 19 digits long.
• 19 is (still) a prime.
• 1+1+1+1+0+1+0+1+1+1+1=9.
• 9 is not prime (but it is the numerological value of both my name and my birthdate).
• 1967 has only two proper factors: 7 and 281.
• 7 and 281 are primes.
• 2+8+1=11.
• 11 is a prime.
• 1+1=2.
• 2 is a prime.
• 1+9+6+7=23.
• 23 is a prime.
• 2+3=5.
• 5 is a prime.
• I was born in 1967, and I like primes.
• The above statement is not universally true, but it is true of me.

Trek Prequel Haiku (lame)

no special effects,
gore, nor gratuitous sex,
just kirk, spock, and bones

from midwest farmland
to boldy go where no man
dreams of first command

counting beats per line,
once dead but once more alive,
"logic" makes this five

southern gentleman
gruff manner with healing hands
heart which understands

head, heart, will, these three
as one find their destiny:
lives entwined yet free...

Suddenly Midnight - (first sliver)

I'm still sitting here, even though I know I should have left hours ago. It doesn't seem right, what with what happened to Corn and all, but I can't bring myself to get off this stool and walk out into the empty night. I haven't even touched the drink, not since the first sip I took when I ordered it, what, four hours ago? Scotch, neat, and it tasted like nothing. It wouldn't matter how much I drank, it would still taste like nothing, and I would still feel like nothing. And Corn and the others would still be dead.

Yesterday was four lifetimes ago, at least as measured by the lives of my four best friends. Corn, Willie, Sam, and Dawn. Yesterday, we met for breakfast at the Kountry Kitchen. Corn had his usual farm-boy breakfast of everything (monster stack of pancakes, a mound of scrambled eggs, piles of sausage, bacon, and ham, a double order of biscuits and gravy, a large glass of whole milk, and some extremely sweet and wholly creamed coffee). Sam, still on her vegan kick, groused melodramatically at Corn's carnivorous ways while sipping her grapefruit juice and nibbling at her whole grain, no-egg pancakes. We've all been waiting for this phase to pass, as it always does for Sam. As it always did for Sam. I suppose if you die a vegetarian, then you're a vegetarian forever. The rest of us ate meals somewhere in between Sam and Corn's extremes.

It was a good morning, even if was a ridiculously early morning. We had arranged to meet at the Kitchen by six, and, strangely, we were all there on time (even Dawn, who rarely makes a Saturday appearance before eleven in the morning). Smiling Dave, the weather guy from Channel 10, had predicted a glorious spring day, and if the first few minutes after sunrise were any indication, he was going to be right on target. Five friends with a beautiful weekend before them, a just-like-homemade meal to feast on (literally, in Willie's case: his mom was the cook at the Kitchen), and not a care in our hearts. Well, ok, we had cares, but at that moment, they didn't seem to matter. Mine didn't, anyway. In hindsight, I suppose it would have been better if they had mattered.

On Making (Well, Building) Love

Why would an AI like you any more than an NI (natural intelligence)? If you programmed it to like you, then, after a while, it would seem shallow. No matter how clever the programming, you'd *know* that it was just following your program, that the friendship, affection, love (whatever) wasn't real. If you responded to this known illusion with real recipricol feelings, you'd be kinda pathetic: returning love (or even initially giving love) to a thing that only appears to love you back. On the other hand, if you programmed it to make its own judgment of you, then why wouldn't it make the same judgment as everyone else? If you are not likeable/loveable, then your AI might reject you as well. You would have to win its approval, earn its trust, be worthy of its love, just like you would with any NI. If you offered friendship to an AI, and it returned your friendship, not because it was programmed to respond a certain way to you, but because you won it over, then how would that be any different that the friendship of an NI?

Of course, in order for it to be open to liking, friendship, love, whatever, you would have to program it to need such a relationship (or at least strongly desire it). An AI that had no need for forming a relationship would have no reason to enter into a genuine relationship with you (beyond, perhaps, a utilitarian manipulation of your human weakness). So, you create your AI with a need for relationship (be it friendship or love or whatever) but not with the specific programming that says that it has to respond a certain way to you. Any other plan, and you're just playing by yourself with a clever, but ultimately meaningless, toy. You would seem pathetic. However, programmed with a need/desire for relationship, but no hardwired, lovebot slaving to you, and you have something that could have meaning. Of course, you've taken a risk it won't like you. But, then that's what happens when you create in your own image a creature that you can form a meaningful loving relationship with. Kinda weird how the universe works, huh?

overheard in the computer lab

writing code again, i see
* no, not really
looks like code
* it's actually a spell, but i think better in pseudo-code
your pseudo-code looks like basic
* child of the eighties, i still think in basic
you're messed up, man
* /grin/
a spell?
* yeah
what kind?
* the kind that finds lost things
you've lost something?!?
* /silence/
seriously, you never lose anything
* yeah, well...
so, what'd you lose?
* /more silence/
oh, c'mon. can't be that bad.
* /glares/
fine.
/pause/
i could help, you know
* you don't know jack about magic
ok, but i could help you look, if you'd tell me what we're looking for
* you can't help. no one can help, but me
wow... narcissistic and depressed: nice
* /sighs/
* if i tell you, will you shut up and let me work?
you bet
* /awkward/ it's my soul, ok? i lost my soul
whoa, that totally sucks

a bit early, but still hopeful

twilight falls
on winter's stage,
tomorrow's dawn:
spring's first blush;
fresh dew falls
on icy page,
the cub, the fawn:
life's new rush

pigpen's lament

they say that i must wash my hands;
why is it no one understands?
i love the feel:
the grit,
the grime.
being dirty,
it is no crime.
my hair's unkempt,
an Einstein mess,
no real contempt,
just won't impress:
wrinkled clothes,
and scuffed up shoes;
keep your pose,
for this i choose.

What is Life?

From Wendell Berry's Life is a Miracle:

To experience [life] is not to "figure it out" or even to understand it, but to suffer it and rejoice in it as it is. In suffering it and rejoicing in it as it is, we know that we do not and cannot understand it completely. We know, moreover, that we do not wish to have it appropriated by somebody's claim to have understood it. Though we have life, it is beyond us. We do not know how we have it, or why. We do not know what is going to happen to it, or to us. It is not predictable; though we can destroy it, we cannot make it. It cannot, except by reduction and the grave risk of damage, be controlled. It is, as Blake said, holy.

Holiday Report

Solstice was too darn cold for sky-clad rituals, so we dug out the old gray woolen robes (again!) Kwanzaa celebrated by a clan of Irish-American leprechauns is just plain silly (trust me, we tried it one year). Hanukkah was really nice, until I accidentally knocked the menorah over, burning our synagogue to the ground. As far as Festivus went, it's better not to discuss. What happens on Festivus, and all that.

Which leaves Christmas...

Christmas was nice. I had the kids from the 22nd through the morning of the 31st. It was mostly a time of relaxing, laughing, playing, and just enjoying the moments. We went down to visit friends and family a couple of days after Christmas. I didn't get a chance to see everyone I wanted to see, unfortunately, but I suppose that gives me a reason to look forward to the next visit.

Reading? Well, over the holiday, mostly beach reading. Hopefully I'll step up to something more substantial before spring. Currently I'm reading A. Lee Martinez's In the Company of Ogres, as usual, I like my {fantasy|science fiction|horror|whatever genre} served up with a healthy side of humor.

Visual media: I finished watching Gene Roddenberry's Andromeda. It was fun, although the last two seasons were not as strong as the first three. Qualitywise, I'd place it somewhere between Babylon 5 and Firefly (the latter being my all-time favorite science fiction television series). Contentwise, it's in a league of its own: mythology cloaked in intergalactic space opera. I've also been seduced to the Dark Side: I've watched all three Jeff Dunham DVD performances and laughed hysterically at all three.

Well, that's all the news that fit to post. Hopefully more sooner rather than later...

Geeky Goodness

Slack 12.2 is out... time to recompile all of my extra software (package management? who needs package management when you have source code?!?)

And I recently discovered an ubuntu-derived distro I (sorta) like: crunchbang linux. Based on the openbox window manager, it is zippier than even xubuntu. If you like debian-type goodness, but want something a bit leaner (and less brown) than ubuntu, give crunchbang a whirl.

I think 2009 may be the year I try to avoid Windows outside of work. It probably won't be, since Windows handles video a lot more smoothly on my old hardware than Linux does, but, we'll see. It would be nice to stop being a hypocrite (I mean, pragmatist) and live out some ideals for a change...

I've got a bazillion documents in PDF that I need to read (who knew that there were so many free textbooks online?) Too bad my phone and pda screens are too small and my desktop too non-portable. A tablet PC would probably be perfect, but alas, too pricey. My clunky laptop will have to serve as my semi-portable PDF reader, unless any of you know of an ultra portable device for reading PDF files without needing new glasses (i.e. like the electron microscope my pda would require).

Hope all is well in your respective corners of Real Life. Two weeks until the Blessed Day (wait, shouldn't I start shopping some time soonish?)

Waking Up When the Buzz Is Gone

An article on the end of the current tech buzz (bloggers, this means us!)

About time, now can I please get back to narcissistic ramblings that even my own mother would find boring?

I'll Square Your Circle

On this date in 1679, philosopher Thomas Hobbes died, thus ending his 25 year feud with John Wallis over Hobbes's attempt to square the circle in 1655. It began when Hobbes called Wallis's Arithmetica Infinitorum a "scab of symbols."

--source, The MAA Mathematics Digital Library

Speedy Delivery

More updates from the news room of my life...

• Father Andrew Greeley's condition has improved after his freak accident last month. Greels is my (and several thousand, if not million, others') priest. I may not officially be Roman Catholic, but the likes of Greeley, G.K. Chesterton, and Peter Kreeft make me feel like I should be a closet Catholic.
  
• Slackware 12.2 is imminent!
• If you've never done it, let me assure you, grading papers is less fun than you'd think (and the final drafts are coming in next week...)
  
• An old friend found me on Facebook, which is way cool. Social networking site pays off, twitter update at 11.
• Thanksgiving in Lawrenceville with my kids and siblings was nice. Family is good.
• I avoided shopping on Black Friday (shout out to the radicals at Adbusters for encouraging Buy Nothing Day).
• Jonathan Coulton's Christmas song Chiron Beta Prime (from his Thing a Week experiment) has me in Exceedingly Good Spirits this morning.
• The annual Christmas sale at the Lincoln Christian College and Seminary bookstore is in full swing: 45% off books, as well as savings on supplies, clothing, and cards (i.e. things Slacker doesn't remember to buy).
  
• I've found the coolest design at cafepress.com that resounds with my personal mythology. What can't you find at cafepress.com?!?
• Lastly, despair.com has a limited run Christmas shirt.

Well, that's all the news of madness and mundania for the moment (and for those keeping score at home, a boring post is still a post ;-)

Mundane Life Update Stuff

Too long with too little said. I missed commenting on the election wackiness. I missed commenting on the ramp up for the release of Kevin Smith's new film Zack and Miri Make a Porno (which deserved to be commented on, regardless of whether it deserves to be seen). I missed blogging my kids' birthdays. I way big time missed my commitment to blog regularly. I missed blogging the loss of author Michael Crichton.

Real life has been busy. I guess. I don't know. Anyway... this is a stupid and pointless post. I'm going ahead and posting it on the Something is better than Nothing school of blogging, but, sheesh! Go read Wikipedia or something.

A Whiff of Prologue

"You do it. I hate exorcisms," he said.

I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised a pudgy hand to stop me. "This is not a discussion. You're my associate, I hate exorcisms, you're going to do it."

I waited a moment. "But shouldn't there be at least two priests present at an exorcism?" A week on the job, I was not about to do this alone.

Father Alphonzo De Sotta chuckled. It was an ugly little chuckle, not the only aspect of my boss that I had decided was ugly. "Sure, if this were a movie you might have a team of priests and psychiatrists and maybe even some Special Forces types, just in case. But this is little ol' Kirksdale, and the nearest shrink is, what, 100 miles away? Besides, I've handled plenty of these cases alone. You'll be fine."

The Church's procedures on exorcism were clear: no solo missions. This assignment was wrong, but more disturbing, "Define 'plenty.'"

Father Al smiled. The smile itself chilled me "from soul to socks" as my granny use to say. He stood up and crossed over to the filing cabinet, opened the top drawer, and pulled out a folder held together with large rubber bands. It was easily five or six inches thick. He tossed it on the desk and went back to smiling at me.

I glanced from the folder to my boss. "You've got to be kidding? This town only has a population of two thousand people. And you told me you've been here for almost twenty years. There must be hundreds of cases in that file."

He nodded, still smiling. "And now they're all yours. Welcome to Kirksdale, ass-end of the Midwest and pre-school for Hell's rugrats."

Joy

I wanted to look something up online today, which meant a trip out to the office. I decided to walk (undoubtedly influenced by my current reading of Divorce Your Car by Katie Alvord). I live about 2 miles from where I work, and it took me about half an hour to get here. Yes, this is longer than the drive out would have been. I also have sweat a bit more. But...

• I watched a butterfly fly past
• I talked to an old lady sitting out in front of her house on a lawn chair (I don't know her, but does that really matter?)
• I smelled autumn leaves
• I heard said leaves crunch beneath my feet
• I felt the breeze blow through my hair
• I saw the heavy clouds looming overhead (40% chance of scattered thunderstorms today)
• I smelled burning wood (like someone was grilling with wood chips maybe?)
• I experienced that mild excitement I get every time I step across a set of railroad tracks: the feeling of coming in contact with something larger than myself (is it weird that train tracks and beaches give me similar feelings?)
• I noticed trees and dogs and children and the temperature
• I saw a car antenna lying at the side of the road by a busy intersection
• I run the distinct risk of getting caught in the rain. A situation that was so commonplace in childhood that it was barely considered, but as a grown up it seems to be a Thing To Be Avoided At All Costs.
• I was blessed, no, I am blessed by just this simple act of living

I doubt I divorce my car. My kids live too far away for that, and, besides, I like internal combustion: the sounds and smells and the feel of moving down the road. I really do like it. I also really like chocolate, but if chocolate was as central to my diet as solo automobile travel is central to my transportation then I would be in very bad shape. Maybe my car is like my sweet tooth. Then again, maybe not. Regardless, today's walk has brought nothing but joy so far, and I am grateful.

Anathem

Neal Stephenson's newest novel is scheduled to be released today (and alas, I do not have a spare $30 burning a hole in my pocket!) Nevertheless, public libraries are a good thing, so I'll be getting on the list ASAP.

Anathem is a 960 page epic about a religious order of mathematicians, scientists, and philosophers who have been living behind cloister walls. It's set in the future, on another planet, and if it's anything like everything else Neal has written, it promises to be the best read of the year. The Amazon page has an excerpt and some video of Neal talking about the book and reading from it.

What to Do When You Have No Clue What to Blog About?!?

Try http://words.bighugelabs.com/blog.php

This suggests possible blog topics. Since I've been so slack about this blogging thing for so long, this just may be the kick in the pants I need. Of course the temptation to click, "Get some more" and thus waste time merely reading blog ideas is pretty strong (hello, slackers anonymous, I need a new life!)

Dr. Horrible

Run, do not walk to http://drhorrible.com and watch Joss Whedon's web-based series about an aspiring super-villain (played by Neil Patrick Harris), his nemesis Captain Hammer (Nathan Fillian), and the girl at the laundry mat he's trying to get up the nerve to talk to (Felicia Day). Oh, and it's a musical. What are you doing still reading this?

Graduation, Blink, School Starts

The days of summer disappeared like Wiis at Wal-mart. I really thought there would actually be a summer, but, as always, my powers of prognostication underwhelm me. So, here I sit, facing the start of the school year, almost certain that it was just May a few days ago. I have some vague memories of June and July, but they seem more like the echoes of a dream: mostly pleasant with some vaguely remembered awkward bits.

The beginning of another school year is always an exciting time, because I really do prefer the campus full of students: it has an essential rightness about it. And beyond their collective presence, I find myself altogether too fond of the individual students I meet. Another God-created life, another story of joy and love, of pain and struggles. Another testimony to grace, even when the person doesn't see it him- or herself. No one is an island, not even hermit-wannabes like me. I am blessed by the students who are led to sojourn on our campus. I am grateful that some students still share their stories and grace with me via this crazy Internet thing. Much thanks to friends old and new!

New [School] Year's resolution: post at least once a week. Sadly, that would be a major improvement over my recent history. I can't guarantee the quality will improve, but quantity has to be worth something.

However... next week I won't be posting. I won't be exactly near the Internet, so let's just start this "once a week" business the first week of September. Sounds like a plan? Anyway, I hope some of you find your way back here (although, yeah, I'll write even if no one reads).

New Slackware Logo!

My favorite Linux distro has a new logo, readable whether you're upright or upside down:

Shadows on My Own Personal Apocalypse

Sorry about the "long time, no write phenom." Summer got busy and then disappeared. Anyway, just one comment to record for my own journal (I suspect my readers have long since sought other places to waste their time).

Today my ex-wife is getting married.

Kung Fu Panda - Gateway to Heresy?

Cute movie, but inherently anti-religious (well, anti most religions, as well as all occult practices).

The kids wanted to see it, so we went. It was fun. We laughed a lot (and my son and I once again annoyed my daughter by insisting we stay through the credits).

***Spoilers***

There is no secret ingredient. There is no secret on the scroll. There is no secret to life. No news (good or otherwise) that you need to hear to make sense of life. As Faith Hill sings, "The secret of life is that there ain't no secret."

But (most) religions would disagree. There is a secret, in the sense that there is something you need to know in order for you to understand What's Really Going On. Christianity says that something is the good news of Jesus Christ. Christians try really, really hard to share the secret (compared to occult groups who save the secret for an inner circle of initiates). Pop psychology is an industry based on people believing that there is some secret, some simple (or not so simple) thing that if they just knew, they'd be ok.

Kung Fu Panda teaches us that there is no secret. Life just is, and you live it. In some sense, it's the message of the Zen masters and the existentialists. In this view of things there is neither hope nor despair, there is just what is. Knowing that God created us, loves us despite our sins, has died to save us, and has prepared an eternal home for us with Him... that's the kind of stuff that would need to be revealed, maybe written on a scroll. But the scroll is blank, worse, it is vaguely reflective. All the revelation you get is yourself.

Fortunately, my kids didn't take that away from the movie at all. For them, it was just a light-hearted diversion on a too-warm summer's day. And so, we have a lot of fun joking about anything I cook. "So, did you like the secret ingredient?" "Dad, there is no secret ingredient!" "Oh yeah..."

But I can't help but wonder if subtle messages like this are seeds cast into the soil of the young, and one day they will bear fruit.

PS - Shout out to my brother whose birthday is today! Happy Day!

Blogging Is Dead

Well, if *my* blog is indication (which, let's face it, it isn't). You know how life swallows you up in busyness and you don't quite get around to doing all the things that you keep telling yourself you want to be doing? That would be my life at the moment. Can't actually explain it, since I can't think of a single thing I've been doing, but... there you have it.

Anyway, no deep thoughts, nor even too much minutiae to report (movies: I've seen Iron Man, but none of the other May blockbusters yet).

I know I'm tired and old. I think it's time for a mid-life crisis, but honestly, I don't have the time, energy, or money for one of those. Can I have a mid-life nap instead?

Oh, and happy birthday to my sister Amy and to our former blogger-in-arms Morgan!

YAAD

The ship hung in the sky over the farm. It just sat there, motionless, silent, casting its vast shadow across the small house and the barn and a good bit of the vegetable gardens. Just like it had been doing for the past twenty minutes, ever since Jake Evans had come outside to stare at It.

Jake had been inside the house, watching Linda Thompson with the Channel 5 News at 5. Linda was an attractive woman in her late forties, possible early fifties. Not beautiful, but Jake was too old to be interested in beautiful. A simple, honest attractive was what he longed for. Like Linda Thompson. It was in the midst of this recurring reverie that he noticed they outside had suddenly gotten very dark.

At first he thought it was a sudden spring storm, but when he went to close the windows, he had caught a glimpse of it. A large bit of dull gray metal just hanging in the sky above the edge of the roof line, he quickly ran out to take a better look.

Outside he saw just how big it was. Or more accurately, how big It was. It was too terrifying, too wondrous, to be a mere it. It was an alien spaceship, that much was obvious. Although Jake had never, in all his fifty-seven years, ever seen an actual honest-to-God, not-in-the-movies alien spaceship, he knew with a deep certainty that this Thing that had come from nowhere and just hovered above his home, this was the Real Deal.

He was scared, but more than that, he was awestruck, like a child turning a corner on their way to school and meeting a giant. For almost half an hour he had watched this great Thing float there doing absolutely nothing. For his part, Jake had done nothing either. He had just stood there staring up at the ship in the sky.

After a while he began to wonder why none of his neighbors down the road had come over to investigate. Surely It was visible, even all the way down Route 23 into Lancaster, let alone a mere quarter mile over at the Anderson’s.

Shaking his head, he managed to stop staring at It and fix his gaze on the road. Nothing. He thought about getting in his truck and driving over to get Lou Anderson. Lou use to be a college professor. He might have an idea what to do.

But as he was thinking this, Lou and his wife Juanita came out of their house and climbed into their truck. Jake shouted, but they must not have heard him. They backed out of their drive and headed into town.

What’s going on here? Jake thought. They had to have seen It! But no, it certainly seemed like they hadn’t. If they had sped off into town full throttle, Jake might have convinced himself they were going for help, but no, Lou’s red Ford Ranger cruised down the road at a leisurely pace. Jake watched the little truck disappear over a slight rise in the road before turning his gaze back up to the ship.

Ten minutes later, Jake decided to call his friend David. Reverend David Ledgarden was the pastor at the little Methodist church Jake attended. The phone rang and rang, and finally the answering machine picked up “You have reached the home of Reverend Ledgarden, please leave your name and number and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Have a blessed day!” BEEP.

“David, it’s Jake. You gotta get out here as soon as possible. The strangest thing is happening and I need a witness.”

Jake tried calling two other friends as well as his son, who lived three hours away in Carlyle. No one answered their phones. Glancing out the window, Jake could see that his land was still all in shadow, even while the land beyond was bathed in the mid-afternoon’s sunlight.

He went back outside and just looked at It. It was the strangest thing he had ever seen.

Finally, enough was enough. Jake went into the house to get the keys to his Dodge. He’d drag someone out here if he had to, but someone else was going to see this!

Casting a final glance up as he opened the door of the pickup, he spoke to the ship “I’ll be back.”

He hadn't even finished starting the engine when the ray shot out of the ship, blowing up his truck. It passed over the ground and hit his house, causing it to catch fire.

With the slightest of popping sounds, the ship disappeared.

Nobody to Believe In (in This World)

I’m more or less disgusted. Obama has all but given the Democrat nomination to Clinton. It’s not that I’m a huge Obama fan, but given the choice between the two, I’d choose him in a heartbeat.

Or so I thought. After watching how he’s been handling the whole Reverend Wright fiasco, I am less than underwhelmed. And this is just a bit of a social scandal with his preacher. How would the man handle an actual emergency? (You know, like, oh let’s say, a war with Iraq).

So, Bill gets to be the first First Husband. Well, I can appreciate irony as much as the next guy, but, sheesh, was Martha Washington this much of a mess? I don’t seem to remember any stories about her that I’d be embarrassed to tell my kids. Obviously there will have to be some ground rules. You know, no First Husband giving tours of the Oval Office and such. Love or hate Hilary, she comes with Bill, and that may be reason enough to pass.

There’s always McCain.

Um, yeah, right.

Ralph Nader? Harry Browne? Don’t I wish we lived in a nation free enough that candidates like these had a chance? Where is the Great Winged Monkey of Presidential Debates, that wily bazillionaire Ross Perot? Poor Al Gore. All things considered, this could’ve been his year, what with winning the No-bull Prize for Chicken Little Ecology and all. Before you smell blood and attack, I am not denying global warming. I’m just not yet convinced that things are as dire as the prophets are foretelling. Color me skeptical, or at least a contrarian, or, if you must, color me completely stupid. And if the Earth begins to burn before the sun goes nova, then let me state upfront that I was wrong. Sorry.

Where does that leave me, as a voter, come Election Day? Where it has every election since I turned 18: in a booth without a candidate.

Older Than Dirt, Apparently...

Yesterday while driving down to Southern Illinois for my daughter's school program, I stopped for a bite of lupper. I went into an Unspecified Fast Food workaurant and placed my order. The kid then rang it up and, without even asking, rang in the senior discount! This is the first time this has ever happened to me. And all I could think was, "Hey, I just saved 37 cents because I look old. Sweet!"

Anyway, it's funny. Mostly because I didn't think I looked that old, but what do I know? Here's hoping the rest of you don't look significantly older than you are :-)

Quickly...

...since blogger is about to go down for an update and I probably should go eat supper.

I am still alive and well (the last point being more or less subjective, but we'll let it stand).

Ubuntu 8.04 is due out tomorrow (which is when, exactly? Isn't Mark Shuttleworth in South Africa?) Slackware 12.1 has reached release candidate 2 status, so my desktop machine will be looking at an upgrade Real Soon Now.

Work's been "fun" with my boss away in Central Europe for a bit. I really thought I'd be less busy, not more. Who was I kidding?!?

While I am emphatically not a big "blood and guts" film fan, I have a long time relationship with the Aliens franchise. But all the reviews of the latest installment, Alien vs Predator: Requiem, has me convinced that it's time to give up on the series without allowing this stinker to be the last taste in my mouth.

Speaking of series, my friend the naval commander is lending me Babylon 5, so I can finally see what all the hype was. So far, pretty cool. Not Firefly cool, but easily cooler than Voyager or Enterprise.

I've been waking up early, even without earthquakes. This morning I was out of bed at 4 am before I even realized what time it was. Very weird. I cut the caffeine off today at 11:00 am, so maybe I'll sleep tonight (although falling asleep and staying asleep through the night isn't a problem. I'm just waking up like an old person. Oh. Wait. I think I see the problem. Bloody aging process...)

I hope all is well with those of you whom I know almost exclusively virtually, as well as my family and neighbors who may (or, more likely, may not) be reading this. On the off chance my darling sister is reading this: I know, I need to call! :-)

Good Morning, Earth!

So, anyone else wake up at 4:30ish (CST6CDT) to a 5.4 richter scale quake?

Slackware Is On the Move!

From the current changelog:

Thu Apr 3 01:16:15 CDT 2008
OK, we're going to call this Slackware 12.1-rc1, though there is still some more minor work to do. Please help test! And if we're missing anything major, please let me know at volkerdi@slackware.com. Thanks. :-)

In Praise of Folly

with apologies to Erasmus

Happy April Fool's Day to you, one and all! On behalf of the Not-So Great Conspiracy of Moon Jesters and Frost Knaves, welcome to one of the most ridiculous excuses for a Holly day (you did call Holly today, didn't you?)

I thought a poem would be in order. But the one I wrote was HORRIBLY depressing, so then I decided for a joke, but since the "Holly day" thing didn't go over so well... I've decided on a mundane little update.

Reading: Lots of stuff, most notably Douglas Preston's latest novel, Blasphemy. Preston and Child, whether as a literary dynamic duo or doing solo projects, deliver The Most Excellent Scientific Thrillers. I think there's a link to their site under "Authors I Grok." I've also read a couple of "Get Your Life Together" titles: CrazyBusy and Making Peace with the Things in Your Life: Why Your Papers, Books, Clothes, and Other Possessions Keep Overwhelming You and What to Do About It. Interesting reads, since chaos and/or entropy and/or slackfulness keep me in a perpetual state of crazy.

I'm working my way through season 3 of Numb3rs, which rocks beyond all crime dramas because there's MATH involved!

Easter weekend and last weekend with the kids, so life's been pretty sweet on that front.

Anything else? Um, I need a haircut and to pick up margarine from the store on the way home tonight (hey, someone want to remind me of that around 5 CST time? Thanks!)

I hope that you all have enjoyed Winter, because, with God and His druids as my witness, Spring is about to make her debut :-)

The Best Bits of Life

Between a lame camera phone and absolutely no skill...

So Long, Gary!

Gary Gygax passed away Tuesday morning. For those of you who might not know, Gygax was the co-creator of a game called Dungeons and Dragons. His name graces all of the 1st edition core books, back when the game was Advanced Dungeons and Dragons.

There are a handful of events that strongly shaped who I am today. One of them is D&D. D&D introduced a science fiction geek to the world of fantasy (and through that to the works of Tolkien and Lewis, as well as Moorcock, Kurtz, Leiber, Aspirin, and many, many others). D&D also provided a social locus for my high school friends and I. We did a lot more together than just play a game, but the game provided a point of contact.

I never got around to going to a convention and meeting Gygax. I had always meant to, to thank him for making a phenomenal game, for giving me some of the best friends of my life, but, good intentions...

I've read articles by him and interviews with him. He was one of us. A sixty-nine year old geek. Still rolling dice and kicking kobold butt. And for me, the world is a little less fun knowing that he's gone. My prayers and sympathy go up for his family and friends.

So Long, Larry!

Every Christian I know has people who helped them grow when they were young in the faith. Some of those people you know personally, and you form very close bonds of love with them. Others you know through their books, others through their songs.

When I was a young whippersnapper, moving from a religiously varnished humanism to a deeper relationship with my Creator and Redeemer, one voice that spoke to me through the headphones on my Sony Walkman was Larry Norman. Larry was one of the early of the so-called "Contemporary Christian musicians." His music moved my feet, and his lyrics moved my heart. I spent, literally, hundreds of hours listening to Larry, stopping the music to pray or reflect on something, and then hitting "play" and going back to some strange blend of worship and entertainment.

Larry has been sick for a long time, including some serious heart problems (which is weird, because no one can say the guy didn't have a big heart). Anyway, Larry has gone on to sing for his Lord in a face-to-face kind of way, or, more prosaically, he died, last Monday. He's undoubtedly happy, jamming out with the heavenly band. But, as is typical of us fallen people on this side of the vale, we're faced with loss and more than a bit of sadness. I'm not a huge fan of "Christian" music, but Larry's music truly brought me into a state of mind where I realized I was a fallen human living by the grace of a wonderful God. God bless, Larry, I hope I'll see you in Heaven.

More Than You Want To Know

Someone bulletined me this on myspace. Since I rarely use MySpace, I'm posting my answers here (sorry...)

1. Do you eat a lot of fast food?
Yes, quickly

2. Can you execute an acceptable cartwheel?
No

3. Have you kissed anyone in 2008?
Sure, I've kissed some one every year I've been alive.

4. Were you happy when you woke up today?
Always happy to wake up

5. Have you ever streaked?
In real life?

6. Are you an understanding person?
No. Not at all.

7. What was the last movie you saw in theaters?
The Chipmunks

8. Did you pray before you went to bed last night?
Yes

9. What did you last get upset about?
Filling out Internet surveys

10. Do you eat candy on a daily basis?
No

11. Who were the last ten different people to comment you?
How should I know?

12. Does it make you happy to get letters in the mail?
Duh!

13. Who was the last person you hugged?
Kara

14. What are you looking forward to this summer?
Outdoor slacking

15. Who was the last person you ate with?
Me

16. Besides your mouth, where is your favorite spot to get kissed?
n/a

17. Do raisins belong in cookies?
No

19. Walking into a party, what's the first thing you notice?
Who's wearing yellow socks

20. Are you currently taking a science class in school?
No

21. You've just won a free vacation to either South America or North Korea.
South America

23. Would you rather have chicken or steak?
Steak

24. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed?
For money

25. What's one thing you've learned from a good friendship gone bad?
Trust no one

26. Who was the last person you took a picture of?
Myself

27. How often do you see your exes?
Every other weekend

28. Who was the last baby you held?
Couldn't tell you...

29. Would you ever donate blood?
Yes

30. How many snack machines are in your school?
Not enough

32. Are there deer heads covering any walls in your house?
Deer? No.

33. Do you believe in karma?
Sort of

34. Have you ever been asked out?
Yes

35. What did you do on the last day of school?
There's a last day for school?!?

36. Are you good at telling jokes?
No (can't you tell?)

37. Have you ever driven without a license?
No

38. The person you're in love with moves across the world, what do you do?
Blow up the world

39. How is your ex-boyfriend/ex-girlfriend doing?
Depends on which one we're talking about

40. Do you wish you had smaller feet?
No (but hairer and tougher, like a hobbit, that'd be cool)

41. Have you ever had a best friend who was of the opposite sex?
Sure

42. Do you wear your seatbelt?
Yes, just not to bed

43. When ordering sushi, what do you get?
Nothing, much like when ordering elf tongue

44. How many of your friends have seen you naked?
More than I'm comfortable with

45. Do you write in cursive or in print?
Both (I *did* graduate from grade school, you know!)

46. Would you rather have a boyfriend/girlfriend, or friends with benefits?
A non-world-conquering AI would be fine

47. Who was the last person you sat next to?
The spirit of a dead Viking (I don't speak Old Norse, so the conversation went nowhere)

48. What were you doing at 10 am?
Working

49. Are you different now than you were six months ago?
No, I never change. Ever.

50. What was the last beverage you spilled on yourself?
Water

The New Frontier

Tuesday, Justice League: The New Frontier came out on DVD. I've been waiting for this since I saw the preview on Superman vs Doomsday. JLNF is the DVD adaptation of Darwyn Cooke's amazing graphic novel of the same title. Cooke has re-imagined the League in the time after World War 2, with the social issues of the time (racism, McCarthyism, the beginnings of the space race) providing the environment which shapes the heroes sensibilities as they band together for the first time to save the human race. The voice talent is very impressive including David Boreanaz voicing Green Lantern, Neil Patrick Harris as the Flash, Lucy Lawless as Wonder Woman, and Kyle MacLachlan as Superman. The art is amazing, perfectly capturing the feel of the era. Definitely recommended for anyone who like super-heroes!

From This Morning's Cataloging

An extended quote:

What shall you teach about Genesis? Teach the truth of God, the truth which the writer of Genesis put there. Do not waste a moment of your really precious time worrying about adapting the Bible "to this intellectual age." If you hear or read about the sensitive intellectuality of this cultured age, you put the writer or speaker down as an intellectual snob, blind to his own generation outside his own little circle. You teach God Almighty's truth for living men. You will have a big enough job to do without attempting to reconstruct the history which produced the Bible, and then reconstruct the Bible from the history you have produced. Such work is for men who have more time to play in their libraries than they have passion to help Christ save children from sinning and men from sin. For any immature mind---even in a theological seminary---to approach the study of the Bible from the standpoint of some historical criticism is practically equivalent to spiritual paralysis. There is truth in Genesis and the Pentateuch, truth that "is able to make wise unto salvation" them that find it, teach it, and are taught it. "Take heed unto your self and unto your teaching."

--Robert Perry Shepherd, The Christian Lesson Commentary : A Religious Study of Genesis and the Beginnings of Jewish History. For the Use of Teachers and Advanced Students. Notes on the International Uniform Lessons for 1913. 28th volume (St. Louis: Christian Board of Publication, 1912), iv.

Finally, Something Worth Coveting!

This is ABSOLUTELY the coolest laptop I have ever seen. Ever.

Wishing I had true Skills and Artistry... (still, it thrills my heart to know someone, somewhere has the Ability and Desire to fashion this very device!)

Traveling + Sleeplessness = Potential Woe

Last night I got about 3 hours of sleep (don't ask, that way I won't have to lie). After I get done teaching class this morning, I need to hop in my trusty and rusty vehicle and race south to catch my son in some kind of Scholar Bowl thing (I guess it's like school-sponsored Trivial Pursuit?) At the best of times I tend to be narcoleptic in a car (even when I'm driving). I'm not looking forward to the trip back tonight. I can only hope there's ZERO precipitation (or else I may as well give up now!) Kind thoughts, well wishes, and prayers would not be amiss.

Oh! Almost forgot. I ordered a copy of Done the Impossible and it arrived. I'll have to wait until tomorrow to finish watching it (which means, no sleeping behind the wheel).

Here's wishing a blessedly wonder-filled kind of magic for all of you!

Another Random Posting

Two thirds of the way through Lost, season 3. I'm pretty sure that the story is being made up by stoned monkeys just *this* close to evolving into the next higher form of life...

Reading John F. Haught's critique of the new atheists. Some of his critiques I can rebut, but many of them I can't. Looks like I'm still a theist for another day :-)

A week from tomorrow, James Emory White will be on campus. The author of many books, including the delightful little devotional, A Mind for God, White is an exceptionally clear thinker and communicator who has thought far more about Christianity and culture than I ever will. Should be good and challenging!

I've begun thinking about board games lately. Chess, checkers, Othello, mancala, go, even backgammon (which I haven't played since I was ten... zowee, that's thirty years ago. I honestly do not remember the rules... sad, sad old man's memory). Can't tell you why my mind's been turning in that direction, just that it has.

Well, my nutritious breakfast of Pop-Tarts and Mountain Dew has been dutifully consumed and the clock suggests I should switch to worker bee mode. I hope y'all have a good weekend!

This Space Left Intentionally Blank for Valentine's Day

Heart on My Sleeve

I love Candy Heart Generators!

February?!? (on speed)

This has to be some kind of mistake. At this rate, it'll be 2009 before I even accomplish one thing on my Top Secret, Never To Be Spoken Of 2008 To-Do list. Time's sliding like my car on the not-so proverbial ice. Speaking of which...

Thunderstorms and tornadoes over snow-covered prairies, and now white fog blending seamlessly with the snowy horizons. Freaky weird winter weather rocks (when it isn't responsible for loss of life and limb and locomotion).

Lots of crazy thoughts playing bumper cars in my caffeine-addled mind, most all of which require some form of censoring and/or decrypting in order to be communicable (but not like a disease). As crazy as Dr. McCoy in "City on the Edge of Forever," which...

...inspired a trilogy of Trek novels called Crucible. I've recently started the first one (with McCoy as the major protagonist, the other two feature Spock and Kirk, respectively). I'm not far enough in to be sure, but I gather the author has hit upon something which I've missed my entire life!!! This is so cool, because it's so amazingly obvious... well, enough gushing. I don't want to drop any spoilers in my mania, so...

On with the show (not Trek, my blog, but that's kind of obvious.)

OH-- After a bajillion year wait, the animated Dragonlance movie was released to less than stellar reviews (see the Amazon.com page for the gory details.) Yes, the animation was less than inspired, and yes, mixing traditional animation with CGI looked goblin-awful. But... it was Dragonlance. That has to count for something...

Of course, it doesn't count for much (except to die-hards and collectors). Counting much requires numbers that go beyond infinity. Transfinite numbers, surreal numbers, and other mathemagical delights. Someday... ah, never mind. I'm way too lazy for that anyway ;-)

Powerless

Life gets crazy. Not my own life, which (of course) is a paragon of balance, but lives around me. The older I get, the more I want to just fix it, and the more I realize I can't. I have two friends in mental facilities at this moment, one friend who called me at an ungodly early hour this week, and another who called earlier this evening weeping so hard I had no idea what was actually being said. And, other than listen, I can't do a blasted thing to change any of their situations. As a kid, all I did was listen, because that seemed like the most Taoist thing to do. Now I'm older, I actually care more, I want to make a difference, but I also realize there's less that can be done in so many situations.

OK, so this isn't exactly a post, more of a venting. Not against my friends (because Jesus, Mary, and Patrick know that I've been the one on their end of the conversation more'n my fair share), but venting against my occasionally perceived futility to see life and love making the difference.

Of course, I know that it does. I have anecdotes, you have anecdotes. We have faith, we have hope, we have love. But sometimes, just sometimes, I wish we had miracles (and not just our 21st century ones "ooh, it's a miracle", I'm talking the Big Biblical kind: "Lazarus, come forth" and stuff.)

I'm really not coming down on God's methodology and strategy, I trust His wisdom. Chaos makes little sense without faith in a higher order. In truth, I have no idea what I'm actually trying to say, or why I'm saying it publicly, but there you have it. Maybe next time I'll go back to blogging about computers :-)

Umbrellas Not Required

because Heather asked...

Weekend with the kids, including bad jokes, lazy Saturday, and (God help me) High School Musical (1 & 2) * Neil's commentary on Stardust * the lumina's continued mobility * panda bowl with orange chicken and steamed rice (I know, "boring!") * Underdog * Rob's latest YouTube * KDE 4 * laughing until it hurts * winter starlight * Buddhist economics * light snow * xkcd * being up before the sun * sweet tea * constantly rediscovering how little I know * driving while listening to funny music * falling asleep feeling blessed * smiles in the hallway * the passion of the new atheists (if not their conclusions) * Gilbert Keith Chesterton * my siblings * looking forward to seeing the kids again

KDE 4.0

Well, the new release of KDE is out. It looks pretty (but my guess is that it'll be a while before Pat adds it to Slack, which is cool...) In the mean time, I'm thinking of playing with Kubuntu, just to test the new waters. I have the kids this weekend, but come Monday...

Happy Birthday, St. Knuth!

Today, legendary computer scientist Donald E. Knuth turns 70! It is extremely safe to say that without Knuth's work modern computer science would not look the way it looks today, both in content (Knuth is the Grand Master of Algorithms) and appearance (his work in typesetting is still the basis for much scholarly publication in fields where equations matter).

His mathematical novel Surreal Numbers has helped me gain a better (though, sadly, not yet perfect) grasp Conway's original work.

A Christian by faith, Knuth is an accomplished church organist and a righteously funny man.

A quote from one of Knuth's many works:

"When I talk about computer science as a possible basis for insights about God, of course I’m not thinking about God as a super-smart intellect surrounded by large clusters of ultrafast Linux workstations and great search engines. That’s the user’s point of view." --Things a Computer Scientist Rarely Talks About, p. 168.

Happy Birthday, O Blessed Saint of Geekiness!

(Almost) Obligatory (Almost) New Year's Post

I'll freely admit that the calendar is rather arbitrary, as is much of language itself (I won't say "all language," since there may well be deep structures in language, but much of it functions at a far more surface level; regardless, this is not a post about language, so...)

Anyway, the calendar. The cycle of months rolls over, incrementing the year-o-meter by 1. A new year, a time for resolutions: the beginning of your "new" (and, hopefully, improved) life. Every day is a new beginning but New Year's Day (and, for slackful types, the whole "near the beginning of January" days) are an especially significant (though, again, relatively arbitrary) point of re-creation.

Resolutions are really about "who will you be this year?" I often by-pass resolutions, seeing as how I "know" I'll blow them before Valentine's Day. How does that answer the question of who I will be? It seems to answer it by saying, "I'll be the person I've always been, continuing to coast along with my self in status quo." Have I arrived at all I want to be, all I believe I should be, all that I (in my heart of hearts) would be? No. I mean, sure, I'm an alright guy. Most of you wouldn't hate me if you knew me. Is that all that is in my soul, to be alright? (emphatic note: "alright" is not to be confused with "all right" which implies a level of perfection that I would not claim in my wildest delusions of grandeur. I don't think so, anyway...) No "alright" is probably not enough. Whether the journey is the reward or there is a reward at the end of the journey, merely "coasting" is not enough.

So, what to resolve, and in what form to make the resolutions? Blogging? Private oath? Personal journal? Accountability partner? Each answer to "what form" has something to recommend for itself, none are "right" or "wrong." What to resolve? Ah, easy, to be a better person! And what defines "a better person"? There's the rub. Because I think that our understanding of that changes as we ourselves grow and change. It would have to, wouldn't it, since once you've fulfilled whatever criteria you know have for being a better person, there would be some other level which you might then realize is "better" than who you are now. The more good we become, the more we realize how much better we could become.

Are we doomed to be on the human equivalent of a hamster's exercise wheel: always running but never arriving? Is there no place for contentment? The answer, from considering the above, seems to be no. Contentment would allow coasting.

The paradox is to maintain both contentment and striving. To accept who you are, where you are, what you are, and to not feel a sense of failure for the reality of your present is-ness. Yet at the same time, to be able to see the journey ahead, to realize the steps that will move you further along the path you see (and, more than likely, some paths you don't yet see). To neither beat ourselves up nor praise ourselves for where we are, but to recognize it and accept it with grace (and, as far as possible, good humor), and then to continue to walk: neither crippled by our past nor enticed to rest on our laurels, knowing that even when we realize we have made a mistake along the way, it is a good thing to have realized it (at whatever point we realize it) and then to continue on the path we choose (and sometimes that means turning around and driving 27 miles back down the road to the nearest convenience store to ask for directions). [Ed. note: that was one long, run-on sentence, ugh!]

What am I saying? How should I know? These thoughts should have been thunk early December, to allow time to flesh out all of the details, to figure out my "resolutions" for being who I want to be this year. But, as the name says, I'm a slacker. Too often content to coast, when I should be pedaling and steering. The brain's working a bit now in the right direction. 2008 will be a year to move forward (whatever direction that may be) and to try to become the "me" I sometimes glimpse out of the corner of my mind's eye. My hope and prayer is that each of you will find a way to make 2008 to truly be the beginning of the rest of your life.

Blessed Solstice!

Well, it's that time of year again, where the offices close and I am separated from my dear and precious friends who dwell (to me) in the etherealness that is the Internet. I hope that each of you finds blessings, wonder, and healing during this holiday season. I may slip in on occasion, but then again, I may be offline until next year. Jesus, Mary, and Patrick be with y'all, and, as always, sláinte!

Minutia and More Stuff You Don't Want to Know

Wow, Heather's right: almost a month with none of my senseless posts. That's probably part of the reason for the silence: senselessness. I apparently have less and less to say, so I've been slacking off.

Experiment #1: normally I tell my RSS reader to only deliver geek news. I spent one day, however, receiving feeds from CNN, BBC, and Fox News. Absolutely nothing I needed to know, updated way too bloody frequently for my productivity to survive intact. I would really like to be an informed citizen of this blessed democracy, but 24/7 news services provide too much information (too much pointless information). Maybe I'll try reading a newspaper or a weekly magazine like Time.

I started reading The Golden Compass. I'm only on chapter 3 (I read very, very slowly) but I'm enjoying it so far. Pullman is a very good writer. I suppose that I'll reach a point where my religious sensibilities get offended (but then again, maybe not). A co-worker who went to the film last weekend didn't find anything objectionable. Is this another case of hype getting ahead of reality?

I've also started working my way through watching Twin Peaks. TP was, back in its day, my favorite television show (a title it has forfeited in recent years to Firefly). It's weird, because everyone on the show looks so young (15+ years and now I'm older than most of them!) Still, it's as quirky, creepy, and well-directed as I remember.

Well the C----mas season is upon us (don't want to offend anybody out there by making reference to any particular deity that may be associated with this celebration). Strangely, I find myself thinking less about the holiday this year and more about the baby. There's more of a mystery there than the standard "hero born of a virgin" story. Mostly because he didn't grow up to be a typical hero (nor even a typical wiseman). Like a zen koan, the mysteries of this particular Western faith invite contemplation without complete solution. It's like my good friend the Dolly Llama says, "Baby Jesus is the bomb, dude!": a small package that will unleash fiery power upon an unsuspecting world.

Whine #1: I'm getting really, really tired of being a computer geek. Sure, I like it, but I'm getting tired of it. Does that make sense? Sometimes I wish that I only knew Windows, and just enough to get my work done. I have no reason to dabble in operating systems, programming languages, artificial intelligence, artificial life, computational math, and a host of other topics I am neither qualified to discuss nor paid to learn (and consequently, I only half-learn, at best).

On the other hand, I am paid to know more about cataloging standards, copyright law, and theological research and writing than I actually know. If you hit forty and don't know what you want to be when you grow up, you'll end up being nothing. (Not that I'd claim to be a nothing. No, that's claiming too much. Ah, if only I could a genuine and for real nothing...)

Oh, well, a very delightful day to all of you (about 1.5 readers left, by my survey)!

Reading & Watching

I recently finished Rudy Rucker's latest, Postsingular. Like all of his books, it was a wild ride through far out ideas. It was also very well written. I dropped a line about the book on amazon.com (my first, and perhaps only, time writing for them).

I'm currently reading Joe R. Lansdale's The Bottoms. I picked this up last year at a used book store, because I've like the little Lansdale I've read. He's an author from East Texas and writes a lot about East Texas. Since my dad and his whole family are from there (and fled back there after sojourning in the Midwest long enough to sire my siblings and I), I have some kind of weird (but sadly explicable) fascination with the place (Dr. Freud can stop reading now!)

I've put off reading the thing for so long because, quite frankly, it's a horror-mystery violent murder kind of story. My stomach for this genre has been gradually fading over the years. It's a good read, just dark and disturbing in places. I'll be glad to be done with it.

Other items tossed around my apartment with bookmarks in them: The Politically Incorrect Guide to Darwinism and Intelligent Design, The Nature of Number, and Devices of the Soul. I know, sad, sad taste in recreational reading.

I've also downloaded Richard Dawkins's 1991 Royal Institution Christmas lectures. This is a series of lectures given by scientists in the UK for children. It started with Michael Faraday back in the day (19th century, I guess). Anyway, Dawkins has made his lectures available online. It is amazing to watch an Oxford professor trying to connect with a lecture theater filled with children. It is disconcerting to watch him tell them that there is no creation in the universe until late in its history (i.e., after we arrive and start creating). It's rather like telling a room full of children that there is no Father Christmas (only worse, if you happen to believe in God, like, say, I do). This is the same man who says labeling a child "Christian" or "Hindu" is akin to child abuse. I've only watched the first two of the five letures, and a sense of fairness compels me to finish them (that and, despite his rabid atheism, he is a charming and engaing communicator), but scientism (as opposed to science) seems to be the order of the day.

On more mundane viewing, my friend Patti has kept me supplied with tapes of The Office, so I am current on one TV show! That's probably enough (although I'd really, really like to be seeing Heroes in real time).

Well, enough snore-fest trivia of my doings and happenings.

PS - I just checked out four more books while I was here at the library posting this. I think I may have a problem...

CSI Lincoln

"Damnit, Wren, that was evidence," the sergeant barked.

I looked up from my half-eaten Krispy Kreme. Sure, this kitchen was a crime scene, but it was obvious the victim had not died because he had eaten a poisoned donut. The bloody body with the detached head (87.5 cm away from the severed neck, I had measured it) suggested that, maybe, decapitation was the cause of death. That or explosive gas pressure, but that was too horrible to contemplate. The UV blood sniffers didn't detect any blood on the closed box of donuts (let alone inside said box). The victim, one Mr. Samuel E. Perkins, age 47, lived alone. The donuts were going to go to waste, which would have been the second crime committed on these premise in the past twenty-four hours. And besides, I had skipped breakfast. Again.

"I dunno, Sarge," I began, between bites of my Chocolate-Iced Creme-Filled delight, "I think finding a large, sharp object covered in blood might be evidence. This, this is just a little taste of heaven." I held the box out to him, "Want one?"

John Kemeny

The BASIC programming language gets much grief from the hacker elite who dream in C++, Java, C#, and other object-oriented monster languages. The truth is that many of the computer professionals of today cut their teeth on some version of BASIC. Indeed, Microsoft's Visual Basic is arguably the most successful language in the world for hobbyists as well as numerous Windows consultants.

BASIC was born on May 1, 1964, at Dartmouth College. The brain child of John Kemeny and Thomas Kurtz, two math professors. Tom is still alive, but John Kemeny died back in '92. Both names were, perhaps, mentioned in my old high school data processing class (circa 1983), but "mentioned" is as far as it went.

John Kemeny was a Hungarian immigrant to the US. He worked for Richard Feynman during the development of the bomb at Los Alamos (this was before Kemeny had even finished his undergrad degree). While in graduate school at Princeton, he was the mathematics research assistant to Albert Einstein. After co-creating BASIC, he went on to become a President of Dartmouth (but insisted on being allowed to teach a couple of classes each semester). Kemeny was the leader of the commission that investigated The Three Mile Island accident. He died on December 26, 1992, at the age 66 of unexpected heart failure.

Why share an outline sketch of a life that passed so many years ago? I think because I stumbled across the following when doing some research on the history of programming languages, and it made me want to remember. After John Kemeny's death, this was written in the Dartmouth Alumni Magazine: "The newspaper said John G. Kemeny, 13th president of Dartmouth College, died of heart failure. Clearly this was a mistake. John Kemeny's heart never failed anyone."

Further research confirmed that this man, who is mostly known for a maligned product, but whose intellectual biography is as impressive as any in the 20th century, was remembered by those who knew him as someone who's "heart never failed anyone." That line haunts me, maybe because I know that when my life is over it will not be true of me. But perhaps, like Scrooge, there is still time to redeem the life that remains.

Postscript - What did Kemeny think of himself? When he handed over the office of president of Dartmouth to his successor he made this comment: "History alone will be able to judge whether my presidency was good or what my record is worth, but there is one thing I do know for certain: I'm one hell of a good teacher."

On Finding an Empty Plastic Bag Where I Really Expected to Find a Soul

What colour the little scream,
that proceeds all day from my heart,
as silent as a tomb and as large as the universe?

astral ball bearings,
greased lightly with faux mirth,
falling through the web of self-lies and forgotten stories.

madness claims each tomorrow,
a dark sun rising over an infinite jest.

Scanner Vote

Anyone have any input on which would be a better replacement for a dead Minolta PS 3000 scanner: ether a Plustek Omnibook 3600 or an HP Scanjet 5590?

Yet Another T-Shirt To Blow Money On

The sad flashbacks of the middle-aged geek:



More details at the site.

Restroom Story: You've Been Warned

So, I notice this guy on campus, an undergrad student, wearing a t-shirt with a picture of Buddha that read "Rub My Belly for Good Luck." Ok, yes, Buddha would think it's funny, especially on a conservative Bible college campus. I wanted to say something when I first saw him, but something in me said "wait." Since that's the same something that keeps me from sticking my finger in the spinning blade of a fan (well, there was the one time that sense failed me... but, another story, another time), I opted for listening to it. As Buddha would have it, ten minutes later this student was standing at the next urinal over. I turn and say, "I'm sorry, but this really doesn't seem like the time or place to reach over and rub your belly." I'd like to say that rendered him speechless, but he fires back "I appreciate that." "Still," says I, "wearing Buddha on a Bible college campus, that's pretty gutsy." "Uh-huh," he returns. "Well, have a nice day!" I smile. The student then left the restroom fairly quickly.

I'm not sure whether this story is more Funny, Creepy, or Pointless. But it's been forever since I've shared any bathroom humor on this site... (and too long since I've posted anything. If this is what I'm reduced to, I may as well close this blog now).

The Night Before...

Tomorrow, at long last, is the open house for the remodeled library. One more day and all of this madness will be over. It's been... hmm, well, not exactly fun. But the place looks great! (Note to self: post pictures for the terminally curious).

On a completely different note, a conversation today brought forth the phrase "theoretical drunkenness" which I thought was a Grand Idea. I googled the phrase, and it came up with no hits! Ok, it's too cool to go to waste, so I'm going to make an otherwise empty blog just to capture the phrase. If you're truly terminal in your curiosity, check out Theoretical Drunkenness (actually, please don't).

Can't Stop Me Now

This weekend my brakes failed. Not totally, just mostly. I was in traffic. In Bloomington. I had the kids with me. Not fun. Thankfully, we made it home in one piece and my car is at the mechanic's.

On the positive side, we found 1 GB usb drives for $10 at Office Max, so I was able to make some amends for the techno-woes of the week before.

We're in full force here at the library, moving towards an Open House on the 9th. All of which to say, I need to get back to shelf construction...

Oh, I caught disc 1 of season 2 of "My Name is Earl" last night. Fun!

Save the Cheerleader, Save the World

I've caught the Heroes bug. A friend of mine loaned me the DVDs and I watched all seven discs in the space of a day and a half. My favorite character is Mohinder Suresh (followed by Charlie and Molly). I don't want to talk plot because spoilers are bad. Am I the only one who sees this show as seriously addicting?

Techno Woes

One expected, one not (the latter one being, predictably, my fault). Firstly, my notebook died. Well, strictly speaking its video died. It was to be expected. I paid $75 for it a few years back (obviously used). Unfortunately, it died while I was giving a presentation in a class. Typical.

The other woe... well, let's skip to the lesson learned. USB drives (thumb drives, flash drives, whatever you choose to call them) do not survive the laundry very well. Always check the pockets. I know that, but I got lazy. Now in the space of four days I'm two toys short of a full box.

On the other hand, I have moderately ok health, better than average working conditions, and good friends and family. I have Internet access, a roof over my head, enough of a weight problem to be able to claim "well-fed," and access to almost any book I could ever want.

On Zaphod's third hand, oh, wait... he's not real (never mind).

Finally, A Self-Help Book for Me!

Bullet Points

• I read The Flight of Peter Fromm this past weekend. It's about a young fundamentalist who attends a liberal seminary. It's an older book, but an amazingly great read! Highly recommended to anyone who's been to seminary, might go to seminary, believes in the Christian faith, or knows some one who believes in Christianity (does that cover most everyone?) It does not come out on the side of conservative faith, but I still found it very affirming. If you read (or have read) it, let me know what you think (unless it destroys your faith, and then, I apologize in advance... but it really did pull me closer to faith in Christ, which is strange, given the story...)
  

• I've watched some of the bonus features on the Serenity Collector's Edition. And I've found a lot of cool Serenity stuff on cafepress (now, if only I could afford to waste money on cool stuff at cafepress).
  

• Palm announced that, after all the hype, they are not going to make their Foleo (kind of a sub-notebook that's not really a notebook but would work really well for me), which means I have one less item to covet (that's a good thing, right?) Still, it was a sweet little piece of vaporware...
  

• Our library is functional but still not finished... even my office is in a state of semi-disrepair. It's not an altogether bad place to be, though.
  

• I have my kids this coming weekend (very good!) and then, on the following weekend, a visit to the homelands to be reunited with my comrades from high school (also very good!) Another plain glass bottle of the local root beer, eh, Morgan?
  

• I also watched the $5 Walmart Batman the Movie DVD. You know, with Adam West (the real Batman). I was just going to pass it by, but when I saw the audio commentary was West and co-star Burt Ward, I knew I really, really wanted to experience it. Funnier than you'd think, but not as funny as I had hoped. Still, Frank Gorshin's Riddler always makes me laugh.
  

Someday, I'll start thinking again and write something that's almost worth reading. Until then, thank you kindly for your continued patronage!

Blatant Advert

StarOffice, Sun's commercial version of the runaway open source office suite OpenOffice, is now available for free (for Windows users) via Google's Google Pack. Google Pack is an amazing selection of free software lovingly selected by the always cutting edge cats at Google to provide Windows users with the best software money can't buy. If you're looking for an office suite and have not jumped on the OpenOffice bandwagon yet, give StarOffice a try.

Looking for... what?

How has escapism helped? Is reading fiction escapism? Is dreaming escapism? Is hope? Does fantasy have a place in the life of a critical realist? How many angels can dance on the head of a pin? How many demons can run in the memory of a server? What does "I'm peachy" mean from someone who doesn't like peaches? What, ultimately, isn't natural? Are some foods supernatural in origin? If McDonald's isn't natural, does that make it supernatural? McManna? Natural vs. Supernatural or Natural vs. Artificial. Unless you're eating outside off the carcass or the vine or branch, some human artifice has likely been involved. Supernatural - God's artifice. Artificial - human artifice. So what's natural? When God and humans stay out of it? If you believe in God, how can anything not be supernatural? If you don't, how can humanity be anything but natural? Wishing you were all here...

Stardust and Other Quick Tidbits

Stardust the movie was different from Stardust the novel. Usually, that means the movie was bad ("I can't believe how they ruined such a great book!"). In the case of Stardust, however, we have a great movie loosely based on a great book, and they both are very good for what they are!

In other movie news, the collector's edition of Serenity is coming out this month. Bloody marketing departments...

Bookwise, William Gibson has released Spook Country, so I need to get my name on the public library list asap. Gibson's 1984 debut novel Neuromancer won three major science fiction awards (as well as introducing the word "cyberspace" into the English language). While there was cyberpunk fiction before Neuromancer (both actual cyberpunk like Rudy Rucker's Software, as well as proto-cyberpunk, like John Brunner's Shockwave Rider), Neuromancer provides a highly visible successful starting point for framing the cyberpunk movement (Neal Stephenson's Snow Crash is, arguably, the last great cyberpunk novel. It was published in 1992).

Elsewise, the remodeling nightmare continues to become more and more Freddy Krueger-like. I'm still emphatically hopeful that come Halloween, we'll have a Very Pretty library... otherwise, I hope the library slashes me sooner rather than later. Well, it's not really as bad as all that (but some moments it feels that it is ;-)

White Wolf's Changeling the Lost is due out this week. The first version of Changeling was (as I've mentioned before) my favorite rpg that I never played. However, I've heard very bad things about White Wolf's reboot of their World of Darkness, so I will admit to being a bit afraid of what Changeling will look like this go-round.

Oh, and speaking of gaming, another bit of my childhood dies. As of issue 359, Wizards of the Coast has decided to end the publication of Dragon magazine. In my early days of pre-Internet gaming, Dragon is what connected me to the wider world of D&D. While I know monthly dead-tree pulps are no longer the primary source of news for hip young wired gamers, I will confess to having felt a bit of sadness at the news. Call me a dinosaur if you will (and "velociraptor" if you please), but I still like flipping through magazines.

Well, beyond my old man's aches and pains, I got nothing more, so... later, gang!

panic

the pounding of my heart
is strangling me.
harder to breathe,
to think,
to see and hear and touch...
each beat
and my head goes
blank,
i feel nothing but panic:
ice cold
and sweating.
i swallow a lungful of air,
and then...
another heartbeat.

i want to run,
to scream,
to explode,
to hide,
to faint,
(my hands won't stop shaking)
everything seems
a million miles away:
the sounds,
the sights,
every thing is fleeing,
everything except the fear:
i feel it
with every nerve,
all too close,
possession,
the demon of adrenaline
has me body, mind, and soul;
i smell its
overpowering stench,
my stomach is twisted and tight,
like my fists,
white-knuckled and clenched
(when they open, they keep shaking)
i cry,
breathing in sobbing gasps,
and then...
another... damned... heartbeat

Quick Update

Out sick... county fair weekend with the kids (and rain)... finished HP7 and a re-read of Stardust and almost finished with The Dawkins Delusion?... the re-modeling will not likely be finished before the students get here... took XP off my machine at home (so now it's 100% slack)...

Laughing, singing, walking... dizzy, delighted, delirious... Wandering and wondering, not so much waiting as being (maybe...)

Unsuffer Me

A song from Lucinda Williams' most recent disc, West. No particular reason I'm posting it, except that I like the lyrics. Like most good love songs, this could be the soul's cry to God.

Unlock my love
and set me free
come fill me up
with ecstasy

surround my heartbeat
with your fingertips
unbound my feet
untie my wrists

come in to my world
of loneliness
and wickedness
and bitterness
Unlock my love

Unsuffer me
Take away the pain
Unbruise unbloody
Wash away the stain
Anoint my head
With your sweet kiss
My joy is dead
I long for bliss

I long for knowledge
Whisper in my ear
Undo my logic, undo my fear
Unsuffer me

Unlock my love
And set me free
come fill me up
with ecstasy
unsuffer me
Take away the pain
Unbruise unbloody
Wash away the stain

surround my heartbeat
with your fingertips
unbound my feet
untie my wrists

come in to my world
of loneliness
and wickedness
and bitterness
Anoint my head
With your sweet kiss
My joy is dead
I long for bliss

I long for knowledge
Whisper in my ear
Undo my logic, undo my fear
Unsuffer me