comments (0)Before he became a barber, Larron was a student at an old University in an old town. In the center of that town were a few lush acres of grass and trees. "The Square" was a haven for itchy college kids.
Larron often made way to the outside bench, under an elderly Magnolia tree that everyone agreed was the biggest they'd ever seen. There were fresh scratches beneath the lowest of the fat, droopy limbs. Young people liked to climb and swing and beat the tree as far as they were willing to reach. Under and around those scratches were faded marks a generation older. Larron both hated and loved the scars—they were evidence of happy times for anonymous authors, but also vestiges of abuse and apathy toward a beautiful, living thing.
And this was his problem. He saw the good and bad in all. He could not decide the right or wrong of a thing, he strained to locate both, and any ambiguities. He found the dual morality in his friends, family, government, grocers, mailmen, and, of course, his most taxing subject, himself. He could not be wholly good if his mother's life somehow suddenly depended on it. Larron constantly imagined such rough wagers in his head. If only a prophet or a martyr would put a gun to his temple and propose such a thing. Maybe he would try harder. Maybe his problem was simply a struggle of will.
In any event, Larron thought about things too much, and he knew he did. A solution still eludes him. And he has never stopped thinking about the tree, or the bench on which he always sat. Before he left that old town, Larron found a deep appreciation for those two wooden bulks. He missed them more than anything he had seen or heard, or any person he had met in those four years. He misses them like a first love. What makes him even sadder, though, are the marks on the old Magnolia. Not because they exist, but his everlasting indecision about their worth.
Just in time for the Fourth, George Washington's childhood home has been found.
Beautiful images of Golden Rays in the Gulf of Mexico as they migrate to the Yucatan. Reminds me of the large school of similar rays we saw during our recent boat ride at Myrtle Beach.
Fox News aired altered photos of an editor and a reporter of the New York Times who published this article about the dubious news channel.
Christopher Hitchens submits himself to waterboarding and confirms how torturous it actually is.
Years ago I was very critical of most things and nearly everyone. Recently, I have seen myself become more tolerant toward things I disagree with, provided they aren't of truly important consequence. For example, I don't care anymore when a soccer mom passes me in a Hummer; or an acquaintance habitually talks about American Idol; or an obsequious yet arrogant guy works his way up the social and economic ladder by virtue of those traits.
I asked myself, Why? Why does anger no longer seep up whenever I see the things I hate?
The more freedom we have, the more assholes. So, I don't think I can argue too much against them. When there cease to be assholes, you will know something is very wrong.
I love books. About 500 of them are stacked in this little house of ours. I love the yellowy pages of my old books as much as the stubborn covers of my new ones. So don't get me wrong when I say that books, for the majority of people, are on their way out. It will be a lengthy and partial exit, but it has begun.
I made this prediction a few years ago. Here's a little piece of something I wrote to a professor:
For the antiquated this may sound frightful, but eventually students won’t carry books to school. Here’s how I imagine: just as kids download songs to their portable music players and tote them everywhere, so will they do with books. They’ll have an electronic booklet, which will resemble a small, thin laptop computer with an open face. Within will be files, just like today's computers. Double-click with a finger on “Moby-Dick.book” and up pops Herman’s great work. Students (or anyone) will be able to carry this tablet around and use it just like a book—throw it in their backpacks, hop on their bed and read, whatever.
Here are the advantages, the reasons why this will be better than books in most ways. There will be only one book to carry—the thin tablet computer, because any and all textbooks or novels required for class will be inside digitally, electrons snug within the confines of the circuits, waiting for your command. This isn't just for students, either. Anyone with a collection of books can save space and time by storing all of their books electronically. Forget about bookmarks, too, because a person will be able to do basically anything one needs with the text files: mark his place(s), add unlimited notes by typing in special places (personalized footnotes, hover text tips, etc.), and search, which will probably be the greatest advantage. Wouldn’t it be great to be able to search through your books just like you would do on the Internet? A student is looking for a passage he remembers in a 563-page novel, but only recalls that it contains the phrase “in the same device.” All he has to do is hit a key, type in those four words (or even just say them, after a certain command), and it’s found instantly.
Ultimately, a device such as this book I've made up will become the all-in-one machine the technologically savvy hope for. It will play music, browse the Internet, act as a communication device, and store one's photos, videos, and every other type of file. It won't replace the phone, of course, due to a large screen for reading, but who knows what future technology may accomplish?
Well, I had forgotten about the idea of an electronic book. But yesterday when I visited amazon.com, there was the early edition of the technology. A letter to customers announced Kindle, a portable device to download and read books and other text. With its limitations, Kindle serves primarily as a starting point, a rough draft for the future. I don't know if it's the first of its kind, but now that a major Internet retailer develops and offers such a thing, the idea will evolve along with the tool.
There's more info about Kindle and its creator in Newsweek's article.
or, "A Response to Christopher Lee"
Heather Armstrong recently referred to a small article by Christopher Lee, a contributor to BYU's NewsNet. It's an unknown writing about a tired subject, but the messages are solid: people often hear just what they want, and that's a big problem. I've never touched a Harry Potter book and I've seen only one movie, but this isn't about any of that, really.
The article is an opinion piece on the confirmation of the sexuality of the Harry Potter character Dumbledore. At Carnegie Hall on October 19, J. K. Rowling took questions from her audience. In her reply to the question of whether Dumbledore would ever find true love, she stated that Dumbledore is gay. It was no announcement, and it looks unlikely that Rowling had any motive in this decision other than the development of a character. She has always thought of Dumbledore as gay, so I doubt it was a gift to those fighting for gay acceptance.
Christopher Lee wrote:
What irritates me is that in one fell swoop Rowling took a wonderful story enjoyed by children and adults alike, and transformed it into an argument for gay rights. Of course, as the author, J.K. Rowling can do whatever she likes with regards to the Harry Potter universe; but just because she likes picturing a gay wizard does not mean that every other reader must do the same. That used to be the wonderful thing about reading. I used to be able to read a story and make any conclusions I wished.
That last sentence made me laugh. You can still do that, but the characters in the story you're reading aren't yours. How would it be different if his homosexuality had been explicitly stated in the text? And as for the sentence "That used to be the wonderful thing about reading", I would really like to hear a detailed explanation of what you mean.
And I don't think that Rowling was arguing for gay rights. She simply mentioned a fact about one of her creations.
Christopher goes on to say:
Dumbledore is gay, not because he was attracted to other men, but because J.K. Rowling wanted him to be gay. And now society expects us to accept that because Dumbledore is gay, homosexuality is no longer immoral; and anyone who thinks so is an intolerant bigot.
Since when was heterosexual the default for literary characters? Irregardless of the morality debate, it is true that not all people are straight. So, though it is more likely that a random character is heterosexual, it is not certain, and assuming as much might be a mistake.
As I just wrote, in my arguments so far, I have not considered the morality of homosexuality. The facts of literature and common sense stand above that discussion.
And the second half of Christopher's above quote is where I find the biggest offense. "Homosexuality is no longer immoral," he writes. I am taking the side of neither Christians or non-Christians (the category with which I side is irrelevant). But, OK, when was it immoral? This is his personal opinion, which I guess is based on the Scripture of God as he, Christopher, believes. But, unfortunately for some, the Bible was purposely left out of the Constitution. Ironically perhaps, I thank God for this. Society is ruled secularly, as it should, for a few reasons. The most important reason for this is so that no religion will dominate the people at large. Notice that I say religion, not Christianity. I am on no personal attack—here I only aim at those general threats against freedom. A person may believe that homosexuality is evil and will lead to a bestial society full of crimes against nature. That's fine. I could believe that eating someone's brains will make me smarter, black people aren't quite human, or that an outie belly button indicates an evil person. As long as those opinions don't affect the law.
I also think that if Christians are what they claim to be, they wouldn't want homosexuality to be illegal in any way. The inclusion of laws forbidding acts deemed immoral solely by the terms of Christianity precludes the defining characteristic of the faith: choice. Forcing anyone to believe or even to simply act out or partake in a belief in various forms goes against the ultimate decision that is becoming Christian, or being saved. When a person or group wants this—to force tradition of a religion on people—their motives have nothing to do with religion. History has taught this lesson over and over and over and over.
The beauty of this nation is that essentially, thanks to a few pieces of old paper, society is secular and free. We cannot have one without the other.
But, Christopher Lee, I know you probably weren't arguing for federally mandated or state-sponsored anti-homosexual laws. You were just stating your opinion about homosexuality in general, and that's OK. I'm not arguing about whether it's "right" or "wrong" to be gay. But your article reminded me how opinions like yours often devolve into the kind of thinking I describe above. I'm very glad you have your opinion—that we all do—and I'm not arguing your specific point. I'm saying that I disagree with you, yes, but not on any moral or spiritual basis.
He clarifies his position:
Let me explain exactly how I feel about this. I don’t hate homosexuals. I don’t hate people for how they choose to live their lives. However, I can and do view certain choices as immoral. That does not make me or anyone else who feels the same way a bigot. Though nowadays, we not only have to accept people’s choice to be gay, we have to celebrate and encourage them. Before we know it, it will be pedophiles and heroin addicts as the lovable heroes of sitcoms. The media will whine about their rights, and any attempt to condemn such behavior will be decried as bigotry.
Really? Pedophiles? You are willing to compare gay people with pedophiles? The leap between homosexuality and pedophilia is vast. We don't need to sensationalize to get our points across. I see what you mean, though. How are we to choose just how far a person can go in their personal freedoms? Well, as always, I look to John Stuart Mill for the answer: utilitarianism. That is, everyone is free to do as they wish, as long as they don't interfere with the rights of another. Still, we find wavy lines when trying to define laws by such a standard. But I think it's the closest we can come to definitively pinning down an answer. The greatest happiness for the greatest number of people is the goal, and as much freedom as possible is the foundation.
But back to your point about bigotry. Whether or not you're a bigot depends on you, specifically. I know you dislike homosexuality, but are you tolerant of it? From your words, it sounds like you aren't. So it should be perfectly acceptable that some would think of you as a bigot. Their opinions are just as valid as yours.
Christopher ends his article with this:
J.K. Rowling, you shouldn’t have messed with the story. The series is finished; the last book is on the shelves. Leave it alone and allow each individual reader the freedom to make their own conclusions. Oh, and for those of us who don’t jump up and down with jubilation over your fictional character’s sexual preference, show a little tolerance and allow us the right to think what we will of Dumbledore.
Again, I don't see much sense in telling the author to leave her story alone. She has felt for a while that one of the characters she created is gay. After the question was answered, Rowling even stated that if she had known there would be positive reception of the character's sexuality, she would have disclosed it earlier. She wasn't expecting you to "jump up and down with jubilation". There was no political motive and it wasn't impulsive. There was no grand announcement, but it was mentioned while answering the question of a fan. The readers were asking for more than the stories of the books provided, so the author was kind enough to oblige. The fans asked for it. J. K. Rowling elaborated on her own creation as a favor to her readers. I don't think she should be blamed for it.
Perhaps you're not actually upset about Rowling disturbing the Harry Potter universe for you. I think that you're primarily upset that a major character in the most popular book series written is gay, also implying that homosexuals can be articulate, ethical beings with something to add to the world. Sure, he's fictional, but his character reflects reality. Maybe if we dig deeper into this we find that you really are a bigot, or at least have intolerant beliefs. Jaime Allen of Richmond, VA wrote a letter to the editor in response to Christopher Lee's opinion:
You don't have to hate gays to be a bigot; all you have to do is doubt their capacity to make moral choices. And when you lump them into the same category as pedophiles and heroin addicts, you are definitely doing that. If this topic is uncomfortable for you to think about, don't just take the lazy way out and grumble about how rude it is for Rowling to remind you that gay people exist.
I think that's a good point. Her entire letter is here, under the title "Complex Dumbledore".
And, I don't really want to be insulting, Christopher, but the latter half of your final sentence seems to be a cheap trick of words in order to end on an inappropriate bang. Those kinds of things pollute discussion.
Unfortunately, the views of a person often lead away from the more important points of the issue.
Isn't it something that, arguably, Al Gore has done more to better the world since 2000 than president Bush?
In my college experience, I had the option of taking either Biology or Chemistry. As any sane person would, I chose chemistry. I was expecting math and symbols and beakers—which I received in great quantity—but I got something of a surprise. My teacher was Dr. Perry L. Weston, a goofy man of 78 at the time. Dr. Weston turned out to be one of the best teachers I ever had. He was fun, sharp, and kind. From this man I learned a lot about the universe, chemically and otherwise.
He lived a very interesting life, which he shared every so often during class when students became tired of the elements. Perry had been all over the world, met people of every rank, and had more talent and wisdom than I ever hope to achieve.
Fortunately, I take my cell phone everywhere.
And, just for the heck of it, one of me taken in the middle of a lab. I promise that I was happier than it appears.
I would usually stay after class to speak with Dr. Weston. We would talk about everything: NCAA basketball, love, Africa, his painting and my photography. He once brought a bunch of his work at my request for me to look over. Luckily, one of his original paintings hangs over the mantel of my living room.
The last time I saw Dr. Weston was December of 2005. I bumped into him outside of Stanly Community College. He wished me a merry Christmas. Since then I have always wanted to visit him. "I really need to go speak with him again. Take my camera and get a picture with him."
But life became too busy. I haven't been to see him.
The day before yesterday, I was searching for his information online because I could not find the paper on which he'd written his address and phone number, and who knows where our phone book is? I was going to call him and ask if he would mind being a reference. I knew the answer would be yes, as he said two years ago that he would be glad to do such a thing if I ever needed it, but I just wanted to speak with him.
Dr. Weston had lots of faith in me. He would always encourage me. No matter how many of his tests I aced, he could sense that I was completely devoid of any confidence. "Brian you're going to be a great teacher. I know how smart you are. You gotta have more faith." He would say things similar to that.
Anyway, as I browsed my search results, I fell onto this, like a spike into my chest. I read:
Perry Weston, 80, of Concord died December 10, 2006 of complications from an aneurysm. “Doc” was a man who enthusiastically enjoyed his life.Perry was born and raised in Illinois. He received his undergraduate degree from Purdue University and went on to earn his PhD from the University of Utah. He worked as a metallurgist, chemist and engineer in the steel industry. Midlife, he found a new calling as a college professor teaching students that they could conquer chemistry and math. He loved to sing in the choir and when he sang children would look around to see who was singing so exuberantly. He pursued his painting and drawing, using his analytical eye to capture the essence of the natural world.
Those who knew Perry would describe him as an unforgettable character. He was a smart, wonderful and cantankerous husband, father and grandfather who had a great run, and will be sorely missed.
Perry is survived by his wife, Carol, their children Craig, Karen and Paula and grandchildren Owen, Gus and Sophie, and his sister Shirley.
I wept and sobbed and cried all morning.
I didn't know him well enough. I should have visited. I wanted to know him better. I want to remember him better. I want to tell his wife what her husband did for me, though I knew him too little.
The next day I wrote an e-mail to Jennie Tomlin, an artist and part of the Cabarrus County Arts Guild. She had known Dr. Weston, had worked with him in a sort of art club for the last twelve years. I told her about my sorrow and regret, and what Perry had meant to me. She returned:
I am so pleased that you shared this message with me, and I will pass it along to his wife, who is also a dear friend of mine. I will give her your email and I am sure she would want to respond to you.Perry was a wonderful friend and was a student of mine for 12 years. He and his wife shared many happy times and memories together, and I think he was a wonderful painter. I am grateful that I spend several hours with him in the hospital on the Sunday morning before he died that evening. He was such a great and caring person as I am aware that you know. I , several years ago, had the misfortune of tearing some ligaments and muscles loose from the bone in my hip area and was to be flat on my back for about 4 weeks. Perry walked in one day with the oddest looking contraption I had ever seen and it turned out to be an easel that he had rigged and built for me so that I could paint while lying flat in the bed!!! That is true friendship!
Thank you so much for sharing your feelings and thoughts. You have made my day. I am sure that some of Perry will be with you all of your days as he will with mine.
I can't imagine all the people Dr. Weston touched during his long life. If I could be so affected knowing him for only two years, I can't guess, either, about his family.
Dr. Weston was my friend. I miss him. I can only wish, wish, wish now that I had went to see him. I'm trying to be grateful that I was able to know him and forget the things I didn't do.
As for my photography, inspiration and motivation have been very absent the past month or more, and I hadn't touched my camera until yesterday morning. I had to get out and do something that would make me feel better. There was more to it than that, though, I guess. I had thought about Dr. Weston and his perception of life and the world—even now I find inspiration in my memories of him.
The morning offered up some tranquil scenes at Morrow Mountain:
Throughout No Direction Home, the Martin Scorsese film about Bob Dylan, there are clips of Allen Ginsberg in his youth. I had never noticed it before, but while watching I thought, man, he looks a lot like David Cross. I've never been a fan of Cross, but I have seen him a couple times. With his bald head, those dark eyes, and big nerd glasses, I think that he resembles Ginsberg a lot.
What's funny is that the next day I read about I'm Not There, the upcoming movie about Bob Dylan. I had been trying to resist the temptation to read about the film as I never like to know anything about movies before I see them, but I couldn't help it this time. Anyway, guess who plays Allen Ginsberg.
Allen Ginsberg
David Cross as Ginsberg
I'm very excited about this movie. I'm concerned, though, because I don't see a Joan Baez character listed. She is necessary. Also, it would be cool if Joaquin Phoenix could make an appearance as Johnny Cash.
If anyone has a lot of money and no use for it, I would suggest buying me one of the brand new 160 GB black video iPods. I'd appreciate it.
As I learn and continue with my photography, things will change. For the future, I'm writing this.
I shoot usually on aperture priority. If I need a shorter or longer exposure time, I go fully manual to make an appropriate shutter speed for the shot. Until recently I have not shot RAW, but I do now. After I hit the button, I view the photo on the LCD to see if the exposure was correct. When I return home, I plug my Nikon D70s into the computer and pull the images I want into Adobe Lightroom. I go through the Library and select the image I want to process. Over in the Develop module, I may try a few presets, including the custom presets I've made. If those don't suit the photo, I go through and adjust everything. Hopefully I've captured the scene correctly and there is little to do to the image. However, if the exposure is too much or little, or if I simply want to give the photo a certain mood or tone unachievable by camera alone, then I have fun with all the sliders. When I've done all I want in Lightroom, I save a full size and quality TIFF version of the photo. The photo currently in processing is then exported to Photoshop CS in sRGB color, 300 dpi, 16 bit. Adjustments are made accordingly with levels, curves, or whatever I want. It's cropped if necessary, usually with a maximum side of 900 pixels. Other modifications are performed if the photo asks for it. The photo is finalized, sometimes with vignetting. It's saved as a JPG with 95-100 quality.
For other photos I choose to do something more special. Right now I call it "digital painting," though I'd like a better term. What I mean is that I often use various brushes, gradients, many different kinds of layers, multiple uses of curves, colors, levels, selective colors, hues, etc. to dramatically alter a photo. This takes a lot of time and RAM, which makes it a slow process.
Shooting RAW creates large image files—several megabytes each. I've taken about 10,000 shots in the last year and a half, so storing and organizing is essential. I sort all my photos by date, with folders for each year and multiple folders therein. I keep my photos in three external hard drives (60, 120, and 250 gigabytes, which also hold 69 gigs of music and other stuff) and lock those in fire- and waterproof safes. I'm careful.
I've followed Heather Armstrong's blog on and off since 2003, though the past year my visits have been much more seldom. Her site has an inviting, open quality about it. There is something very appealing about the way she presents her life. Maybe that's why last night I dreamt I was a guest in her home. Leta was playing with a plastic container of pills and Chuck was in the bathroom. I was in the living room, with Jon on a couch across from me.
I was very excited because I know they have a Canon 5D. I looked at Jon with my hands fanned out and said, "I don't want to borrow it, I would just like to take a few shots right here to try—" He knew what I was asking and went to get the camera. "Oh boy," I thought, "not only am I going to get my hands on a 5D, I'll probably take some cool photos and Heather will put them on her site and link to me and I'll get a billion views to my Flickr page!"
Jon was walking in the hallway on his way back to me, saying something about a 50mm f/1.4 and then—
Lindsey shook me awake.
"I am so disappointed," I said.
"Good morning to you, too!"
Then I heard a door slam or something and went back to sleep.
A vault packed with old paper is under my bed. Years ago, when I was even younger, I wrote terrible poems that now fill that box. The more they rhymed, the worse they were. I scratched the paper in this way whenever I felt sad or hopeless. Nobody ever read them, including me. Each served its purpose for a moment and was then buried.
I didn't care that I was a mediocre writer. My little poems were beautiful because they were sincere. Honest creativity is worthy regardless of skill.
I'm still compelled to write lines sometimes. They're still terrible messes of stumbling verse.
While I was sitting in the hospital beside my dead grandfather, I wrote this:
The little plate
is forming under
pressure
with numbers' curves
to be fastened, and
complete
something soon unspeakable
for everyone.
That little plate
calculating the dreadful function
to settle inevitable
heartache,
a redundant instrument of reminder
for something that cannot be forgotten,
to be bolted to the loving and cold
reality.
"These things will destroy the human race: politics without principle, progress without compassion, wealth without work, learning without silence, religion without fearlessness, and worship without awareness."
“There is only one cause of unhappiness: the false beliefs you have in your head, beliefs so widespread, so commonly held, that it never occurs to you to question them.”
“People mistakenly assume that their thinking is done by their head; it is actually done by the heart which first dictates the conclusion, then commands the head to provide the reasoning that will defend it.”
"Any time you are with anyone or think of anyone you must say to yourself: I am dying and this person too is dying, attempting the while to experience the truth of the words you are saying. If every one of you agrees to practice this, bitterness will die out, harmony will arise."
"As soon as you look at the world through an ideology you are finished. No reality fits an ideology. Life is beyond that. That is why people are always searching for a meaning to life… Meaning is only found when you go beyond meaning. Life only makes sense when you perceive it as mystery and it makes no sense to the conceptualizing mind."
"I'm going to write a book someday and the title will be I'm an Ass, You're an Ass. That's the most liberating, wonderful thing in the world, when you openly admit you're an ass. It's wonderful. When people tell me, 'You're wrong.' I say, 'What can you expect of an ass?'"
"Wisdom tends to grow in proportion to one's awareness of one's ignorance."
"If you just swallow everything I am telling you, I am brainwashing you."
You know what I like best about Internet forums, especially those the likes of Fark? Well, if I had to pick just one thing, I guess it would be the complete futility! Whenever there is a heated discussion, we see the unmitigated ignorance, thoughtlessness, apathy, and reckless abandonment of kindness.
Let's say there is a discussion about a person's ability in America to determine his degree of success or failure in life. Wait until there are about thirty comments. Immediately there is a noticeable disregard for objectivity. For a proper discussion there must be consideration of as many factors as possible. In this particular exchange there is no mention of the infinite possibilities for combinations of life factors that entirely affect one's "ability" to "determine" one's "success" or "failure". The quotation marks represent another problem—definitions are different for every person, especially for things like success and failure.
The biggest problem, I think, is that it seems as though many people assume there are universal rules for human activity. Particularly, in this case, there is the example of universal standards for the measurement of success and failure, as well as the availability, quantity, quality of resources and the great number of factors affecting the methods for success. In the US alone there are differences of race, sex, the cycle of poverty, economy, and the fluctuations of each in various regions. There are certainly many more which I wouldn't think of, like the effects of macro- and microeconomics, sociology, and so on.
There are no universal rules. Certitudes need to be dropped as we yield to objectivity.
And kindness. It seems as though we forget about respect when we lack objectivity and disregard true thoughtfulness. That "thoughtfulness" is more important than any attempt of logic or rhetoric in the case of general discussion, or assessment of one's worth. In that regard, a person's intelligence doesn't matter if he truly attempts to think freely, deeply, and honestly. If anything in this post comes close to any type of universal truth, it's that.
Maddox gives the iPhone a what for.
One of the easiest ways for a person to prove to me that they're a moron is to mistreat or disregard animals. This quote sums up the reason:
"True human goodness, in all its purity and freedom, can come to the fore only when its recipient has no power. Mankind's true moral test, its fundamental test (which lies deeply buried from view), consists of its attitude towards those who are at its mercy: animals. And in this respect mankind has suffered a fundamental debacle, a debacle so fundamental that all others stem from it."
— Milan Kundera
You really learn about someone when they are tested in the absence of consequences. A person who abuses or kills animals for reasons other than absolute necessity isn't worth knowing. Few things make me more angry.
So, this is what I can do right now. These are some of my best photos taken since July 2006. From then until January 2007, I devoted a lot of my time to taking pictures. I love it. I know how to find and frame a scene, but I'm still working on the technicalities of the machine. I hope that I can work photography into a career at some point, or at least continue to experiment with this passion of mine.
What I really want is to photograph people. Anyone willing?
Photography has helped me to see. I notice things I didn't before and view old scenes differently. The seasons have renewed meaning and a more special understanding. I appreciate nature even more than previously. Colors, patterns, shapes, textures, situations, and settings are each seen and considered in new and better ways. Beauty is found in everything—the Zinnias of my neighbors' flower garden are beautiful in their colorful splendor of summer and in their brown, dying moments of late fall. My camera really has helped me to see the world better. There is something worth seeing everywhere. The beach, the mountains, and all between.
"The camera is an instrument that teaches people how to see without a camera." - Dorothea Lange
I signed up for Twitter a long time ago, but just started using it yesterday.
The problem is that most of my friends and family whom I associate with in "real life" aren't as tech savvy, and know nothing of things like Twitter, Flickr, and so on. Heck, they're just now realizing "Internet" is not synonymous with "AOL".
So add me if you read this, which is unlikely since I don't link this site from anywhere and hardly anyone knows or cares about it.
I rock.
Are you watching? This is the biggest entertainment event ever and it's for a cause I really believe in: cleaning up and maintaining Earth. Maybe if we all go buy some better light bulbs, recycle, turn off the lights, and keep our tires inflated we really can help our planet. Here are some things we can do.
I remember writing about An Inconvenient Truth a year ago, wondering and hoping things would change. Is this the first step or a waste? Let's hope it does a lot of good.
Transformers was sick! In a good way, of course. The special effects and the nostalgia were through the roof. I loved it ().
There are whiners. Fanboys and ignorant moviegoers scoff at the cheesy dialogue, over-the-top, oozing drama, and the melodramatic music. Hey, get this: it's TRANSFORMERS. This isn't about the holocaust. It's about DNA-based robots from space who wage a war on Earth. It's good versus evil of the flavor of the 1980s. If you never watched the cartoon, I can see how you might roll your eyes, but still. Get with it.
I felt a sweet rush when Peter Cullen's inimitable voice first boomed from Optimus Prime (he also provided the voice for the cartoon in the 1980s). I need to go dig my old toys out of the attic.
I remember watching the first episode as a kid in 1989. I was hooked. The show was stellar for the first seven or eight years, then things changed. This is the complaint of the "old skool" fans, and I guess I find myself similar. Whatever the case presently, The Simpsons remain significant in pop culture.
I hope the movie isn't as disappointing as everyone thinks it probably will be. I'm looking forward to it.
This is me as a Simpsons character. Create your own here. C'mon, everyone's doing it.
I've been looking forward to a new Bad Religion album since my first listening of The Empire Strikes First in 2004, what I thought a mediocre release. That album had a strange feeling about it—a tangy, acerbic, robotic characteristic that I can't name. I didn't hate the CD, but was disappointed.
I suppose the best thing I can say about New Maps of Hell is that I'm less disappointed. It's not due to be released until July 10, but I just heard it for the first time. There are sixteen tracks, seven of which I genuinely like, five I'm indifferent toward, three I dislike, and one, The Prodigal Son, I hate. Heroes & Martyrs, New Dark Ages, and Grains of Wrath are my favorite songs.
While I'm close to the subject, let me ask a question. Why does it seem like a great majority of people adore arguing with others about their personal tastes and opinions? For example, I would give New Maps of Hell a rating of 7/10. If I were to present this opinion to a Bad Religion forum or to hardcore fans of the band in general, I would probably be trounced. Hear this: if a person disagrees with your views on matters, they are not necessarily disagreeing, opposing, or attacking you. When one kicks up a such a fuss about something they like—a band, for example—being criticized by another, one comes across as unconfident, uptight, and sometimes unintelligent. I don't care if someone likes the same things as me, and I surely don't define myself by the things I like. Teenagers are notorious for creating an identity through the bands (etc.) they supposedly like. Thankfully a lot of them evolve beyond this need.
Anyway, back to New Maps of Hell. It's an OK album in my view. Bad Religion has been my favorite band for nearly ten years, so, luckily, I have dozens of their older songs I adore.
There's more in the archives.
