| "Home" |
[Jul. 12th, 2009|03:00 am] |
I highly recommend this film:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqxENMKaeCU&feature=channel
It's fairly long, roughly the length of a short movie, but definitely worth the time. I had the link sitting around on my desktop for a while, but finally got around to watching, and I'm glad I did. It's nothing profoundly new or earth-shattering (no pun intended) for those who have been paying attention (and seeing "An Incovenient Truth," etc.), but it's a new perspective and vivid reminder of the critical juncture we're skirting in the history of humanity and of life on this planet in general.
And it ties in with my experiences today.
The weather this "warm season" has been bizarre. Other than two short heat waves in the spring, it's been downright chilly. It's not like I've been writing down temperatures and comparing them to averages; I'm just going by my own personal yardstick, which is the suitability of the weather for my trail-running activities (suitability which has been sorely lacking, at that). Since I'm often visiting the summits of Mission Peak and Mount Diablo -- where it's always colder than down here -- overall warmth is critical. I know many people like to exercise when it's at most moderately warm, but I find that my body (particularly joints) works better when it's hotter, and I sweat a lot, making it very easy to get chilled.
Although I took some friends up Mount Diablo a few weeks ago, last Sunday I made my first solo expedition of the year -- something I usually start doing in April. The weather report indicated mid-low-70s in Danville that day, which rightfully concerned me going into the situation, as it proved quite chilly near the top, especially with the wind. Since I'm always racing the clock, I never linger at the top anyway, but this time I was in a particular hurry to get back down. I got through it, but the temperature made the experience unpleasant.
I went back to Diablo today, encouraged by a weather report calling for clear skies and temperatures in the 80s in Danville. When I got there, all seemed well, but then things just got weird. As the day wore on, the clouds got progressively thicker, and the temperature dropped noticeably (while the wind, of course, picked up). As I rounded Devil's Elbow near the top -- a perpetual wind corridor -- I got hit with an arctic blast, and concluded that conditions were undeniably worse today than last week, in spite of a supposed 10-degree advantage. My tenure at the top was as short as ever, basically long enough to get some strange looks from those who had come by car, probably wondering what this sweaty, dirty, shirtless runner-dude was doing up there in such a state in such foul conditions.
From the top, though, I couldn't help but notice the sky looking what could best be described as "bizarre." The clouds, the colors, and everything were outlandish and surreal. I could see that much of the surrounding land was getting sunlight, but the mountain had been mostly shrouded for my whole trip up. And I saw what appeared to be sheets of rain falling from the clouds in the distance. "Can't be," I thought. "This is California. It simply does not rain from May to November."
Apparently those clouds didn't get the memo, because when I was about halfway down, braving the chilly lack of sunshine, it began to rain. For my first time ever in California, I was caught out in the rain while doing summer trail running. My first thought was actually concern over being in a wide-open area when the rain began to fall; I know lightning is even rarer in California than out-of-season rain, but it seemed like today, anything was fair game. Fortunately, I never heard any thunder.
The rain intensified briefly before it stopped, and I made it down without incident, posting a pleasing 2 hours and 29 minutes for the round trip. Given how the weather had unexpectedly turned against me, you might think I'd had enough by that point, but I was feeling strong, and had noticed from the summit that Fremont seemed to be getting plenty of sun. Plus, who am I to turn down a little challenge? So I got back in my car and headed to Mission Peak, even briefly toying with the idea of repeating my infamous "triad" from 2006 and 2008 (Mount Diablo + Mission Peak + the Levee From Hell -- something I promised to write about a long time ago, and fully intend to, in a "better late than never" kind of way). But, first thing's first: I needed to get through Mission Peak at least.
When I arrived, though, it seemed the crappy weather had followed me. The mountain had been awash in sunlight as I approached, but as I prepared to begin, the clouds caught back up with me, and it got dark and chilly. Stubborn, and emboldened by my success earlier on Mount Diablo, I began anyway. What happened next was as strange as anything else today: the massive cloud bank which had come from the west and obscured the sun seemed to reverse direction enough to let the sun peek around the edge, and then it stopped for a while, bathing me and Mission Peak in sunlight for about two-thirds of the ascent -- which I appreciated immensely. As I neared the top, unfortunately, my luck ran out just when I needed it the most: the summit approach on Mission Peak is completely unsheltered from the wind, and when conditions are sub-optimal, you will freeze, plain and simple.
Although my body was beginning to complain from the accumulated strain, I hauled ass all the way to the summit, because I knew the sooner I reached the top, the sooner I could get back down and out of the harsh elements. It's never a good trip when it comes down to that, but such is the reality of it at times.
As unhappy as I was with the day's conditions by the time I reached the summit, I looked to the sky and noticed something really interesting: it was as though all the weirdness from the day was culminating in some atmospheric grand finale. Every cue, every effect, every detail began to intensify: above me, through the clouds, the sky was blue; to the west, the aforementioned cloud bank had grown thicker, darker, and more menacing; and even further west, for no more than ten degrees above the horizon, there were no clouds, but just an incredibly red, orange, and pink swath of sky. Quintessential sunset colors, you might say, but with the magnitude cranked up to 200%.
I was caught in a strange duality as I began my descent. It was difficult to appreciate the awe-inspiring beauty of what was unfolding above and before me, because I was very distracted by the reality of what was going wrong. From the very beginning of the day, the weather had maliciously gone all Day-After-Tomorrow on me, and I felt like I was at odds with nature, rather than in alignment with her (which is my preferred state). On top of that, I was beginning to experience some mechanical malfunctions: the long day of mountain trail running, combined with the cold weather, was flaring up what is probably tendonitis in my left knee, which makes going downhill very painful unless I slow to a baby-step walk (and completely negated the possibility of completing the triad today). I was also developing some rather painful irritation from constant friction with sweaty material. Basically, certain physical components were reaching their limit for the day, which was especially annoying considering I still had plenty of energy.
The most distracting factor, of course, is being at the top, aware simultaneously of these developing problems, but also of the fact that you still have to make your way back down before you're done. There is no zipcord from the top of Mission Peak to the parking lot (although come to think of it, that would be pretty damn cool, but alas). So I headed back down at a snail's pace, stepping slowly and carefully (and occasionally turning around and walking backwards down the trail), doing everything I could to limit the damage. Yes, for kicks, it again rained on me briefly on the way down. And yes, I still did break into a run for the last flat section near the bottom, as the tendonitis does not apply on such terrain. I'm not much for giving up out there.
Shortly before I reached the bottom, though, the sun finished traversing the occluding sinister cloud bank, and broke through the other side, signaling proximity to sunset. Combined with the interesting array of colors and effects already in progress, what followed had to be seen to be believed. Conditions hadn't been the best for me throughout the day, especially towards the end; but as I got back to my car and rejoiced in the knowledge that I could now rest, I realized that today, I'd seen some truly unusual and remarkable "skyscapes" from two of the best vantage points in the Bay Area, and I was still out there for the encore.
It troubles me to know that for one, some people will cite the unusually cold weather this season as evidence against global warming, and that for two, in truth, it's actually evidence for it. The theory of global warming doesn't just say it's going to get hotter everywhere all the time; it also says that as cycles and processes get disrupted, all kinds of unpredictable phenomena -- including unusual temperatures on both sides of the norm -- could result. Intuition can mislead, especially with complex systems. I am convinced that what we've been seeing this summer, and particularly the bizarre weather (and skies) this past day, are evidence of the effects of human activity on climate -- and serves as a warning of what's to come. As such, I appreciated the beauty of today's sunset with a solemn caveat. Beauty, like progress, sometimes doesn't come without a price.
Once again, I urge everybody reading this to watch that film, or at least bookmark it for later viewing:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqxENMKaeCU&feature=channel |
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| More Funnies and Follies |
[Jul. 10th, 2009|02:24 am] |
It's been a little while, but I'm back with more gleaming gold dust carefully panned from the streamside sediment of everyday life.
(Click on thumbnails for full-size images, which automatically open in new windows.)
"Oh darling, I positively adore dinning with you here at Pier 39." "I love you, sweetie, but I think you need to lay off that wine..." (Taken right off a big, conspicuous poster. Now, I know the sea lions are distracting, but seriously, people...)
What do you get when you snort a pig? A hambooger! (Okay, "hambuger" in this case, about halfway down the list on the left.) (Oh, and sorry so blurry. Me + camera phone = unreliable results.)
Speaking of pigs, this is a hilarious spin on a rather brutal implement used in, er, "hamicide." And better yet, these particular pigs even engage in canine social protocols!
Last I checked, "Mileage Plus" was the name of United Airlines's frequent flier program, but apparently it's also ... a tire. Which, given the reliability and business practices of airlines, will probably get you a lot further than its airborne namesake...
Not to be confused with an opera singer following a meal of refried beans and cheese...
This goes under the category of "worst sign placement ever." Or best, depending on your perspective.
It's Chicken Now! Only ... it's not! Talk about blatant false advertising... |
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| Groaner of the Day |
[Jul. 8th, 2009|07:12 pm] |
I was talking to my mom recently on the phone, and as we were saying goodbye-for-now, she said she had to go "hack up a cantaloupe." And then, realizing the ambiguity present in that statement, clarified that she was going to cut up the cantaloupe -- not violently dislodge it from somewhere within the respiratory tract.
As if that wasn't bad enough, I had to go and add something about how that might make somebody feel "melon-choly" (melancho...oh never mind). |
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| More Harm than Good |
[Jul. 8th, 2009|12:19 am] |
I encountered a strange, unexpected, and disturbing moral dilemma tonight.
After six years of living in or near the "urban jungle," I've become very well trained to respond curtly and dismissively to solicitations on the street. In fact, just the other night night, while buying gas, I was panhandled with the usual made-up sob story that typically involves a pregnant wife, hungry children, some violent relative, maybe an evil landlord, and generally some need to get money in order to go somewhere. I was probably a lot nicer than most people, because I let the guy finish his spiel (while I pumped gas) and get to the actual asking-for-money part before I shot him down, albeit feeling very "on guard" the whole time, as if something really bad could happen at any moment. Of course, these sorts are generally harmless, but you never know.
But yes, the gas station panhandler types and the homeless beggars -- we're told -- generally will use any monetary contributions for illicit pursuits (drugs, alcohol, etc.), or more often than not, are just running some kind of sympathy-infused scam anyway. Plus, after all, they could be crazy and/or violent, so I've learned that a quick, polite, but firm refusal is usually the way to go.
So very accustomed to such situations I am that I have my response down to a reflex -- and one which I may have applied hastily and incorrectly tonight.
I had just driven back to my building. Normally I'd just go up the stairs from the garage to the corridor leading to my door, or maybe detour down to the lobby to check mail first; but tonight I had a ferocious need to pee before checking mail, so I figured I'd be better off heading down to the gym to use the bathroom before hitting the lobby. Upon exiting the gym, I walked outside, and some kid standing on the corner stopped me:
"Excuse me, sir, do you have a phone I could use?"
Without so much as a moment's thought, I said "Sorry, not that I have on me" -- which, of course, was a lie; my cell phone was right there in my pocket as always. And typically, I'm a compulsively honest person who has a very difficult time maintaining any sort of charade, but when it comes to surprise engagements on the street, my knee-jerk response is to reply that I don't have whatever people are asking for. Sometimes, a lie is the safest way out of a situation.
But then, as I walked away, something began to bother me. The kid didn't seem homeless, nor did he look like some street thug. Yes, I know, you can't judge a book by its cover, especially when your life may be at stake, but I feel fairly confident in my judgment in these matters. He couldn't have been more than about 13, was clean-cut, and was dressed in athletic attire as though he had come from some sports event. Granted, one might wonder why a teenager would be coming back from an athletic function at 11:30 on a weekday night, but who am I of all people to question people doing things at non-traditional times?
As my mind began to fill in the gaps, I realized what was probably going on: he was probably just some middle/high school kid who was waiting on the corner to get picked up by some trusted adult-ish figure who apparently was running late. Understandably worried about being a 13-ish-year-old standing alone on an Oakland street corner late at night, he wanted to call and find out what the matter was, as any reasonable kid would if left stranded similarly.
I'll never know what really happened, but I felt reasonably confident in the scenario I had pieced together. As I walked away, and thought this over, my heart sank: had I just turned away somebody who legitimately needed my help? If he truly was stranded alone and scared, would it really have been so difficult for me to let him make a call on my cell phone? What if I left this young, vulnerable-looking person waiting there, and somebody else with hostile intentions came along after me? Then I felt sick as I realized I'd been wearing my bluetooth headset the whole time, greatly diminishing the credibility of my lie.
As I rounded the next corner, I looked back and saw him talking to a few people who'd come along. Not knowing whether they were friend or foe, I became more concerned to the point that instead of checking mail and going up to my apartment, I got back in my car and drove around the block to do some reconnaissance. To my relief, I saw him walking around to the other side of my building by himself. After I parked and went upstairs, however, I went out on my balcony to see if he was still standing there. If he had been, I think I would have gone back downstairs to offer him my phone. I couldn't stand knowing I may have failed to do the right thing, in a moment of misguided self-protection.
Some might say I made the right choice, that he could have been acting as some kind of decoy, or could have been armed himself in spite of appearances. That's certainly a real possibility, and one that any resident of any big city must be aware of. But something tells me that wasn't the case, that this person was not a threat, and that he really just needed my help.
Sometimes life reminds us that even our own defense mechanisms can grow so powerful as to acquire the capacity to harm ourselves or others. Where, then, lies the virtue in such blind fear? |
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| Omniscient Cookies |
[Jul. 5th, 2009|02:42 pm] |
Yesterday (on the 4th of July), I ate at Panda Express, and my fortune said:
"You should do well at making money and holding on to it."
... which was downright creepy, considering I had just gotten almost $10 worth of food for a grand total of $1.37, thanks to a coupon I had.
Now I just have to work on the "making money" part and I'll be good to go! |
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| Material Satisfaction |
[Jul. 1st, 2009|03:09 pm] |
I don't remember how it happened, but sometime in the last few years, I somehow ended up creating a profile on OkCupid, one of the most annoying dating sites on the Internet. That's a story in and of itself, but it's not the point of this piece.
OkCupid has several creative/irritating ways of regularly making you look at and rate or message various random people, who supposedly are chosen for you based on compatibility criteria derived from numerous questions you answer on the site. Practically speaking, after seeing who the site tends to send my way, I am compelled to question the efficacy of the matching algorithms. But, I said this wasn't about OkCupid, right?
Well, I suppose it's tangentially about OkCupid. Thanks to that site, I get directed to a lot of profiles, and lately I've noticed that a lot of guys list "employed" as one of their criteria for being potentially interested in somebody. This mentality seriously rubs me the wrong way, and it's not just because I'm currently unemployed myself -- my opposition to that criterion is based on principle, and hence even if I were employed, I would not be interested in somebody for whom employment status is a criterion; it says something about an individual's character that I cannot abide.
Now, it's completely reasonable to say you don't want to end up financially supporting somebody, but that's entirely separate from demanding that somebody be employed. Many unemployed people (myself included) handle their financial situations on their own private terms, and view potential dating situations as completely external to those matters. I, for one, would not be even remotely comfortable with a boyfriend/husband/partner supporting me.
This leaves only one conclusion: if somebody truly considers employment to be a fundamental criterion for dating, he is approaching the matter from a completely superficial, materialistic, status-driven angle. It's no longer about the person, his character, his passions, or his beliefs; it's merely about whatever important-sounding title gets slapped on his business cards, and how fat his paycheck is so he can entertain you and your friends with extravagant spending and make you look more interesting for having managed to net such an ambitious, successful guy. Is it any wonder our society has come to revolve around credit card debt? Hell, if you don't really have it, at least with plastic, you can fake it!
The only other consideration I can think of is that if somebody is unemployed, it financially constrains the sorts of charmingly expensive activities you can enjoy together. And sure, while that's inconvenient, if you really like somebody, does that really matter? It shouldn't.
Anybody who has followed my writing for any length of time is probably aware that I have had a frustrating start to my career, through a combination of unemployment and substantial job dissatisfaction. At moments like this, however, I have to wonder if that gauntlet has been a blessing in disguise. If I had enjoyed career and material success and prosperity from the very beginning, might I have lost perspective on the things that actually matter in life?
On the other hand, it could be a chicken/egg question. Maybe I have experienced frustration in part because of who I am, including my stubborn emphasis on those things that truly matter.
Either way, I have learned a lot about what I want, and what I don't want -- and a social or dating life founded on status and materialism falls very squarely in the latter category. |
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| Compassion |
[Jun. 22nd, 2009|01:03 am] |
The other day, I was driving in some seriously slow-moving, nastily snarled traffic (no, really?) in or near the MacArthur Maze, and I saw a minivan signaling intent to change to my lane. Of course, there are lots of places in the urban insanity around here where one might need to merge over approximately 26,523 (give or take) lanes in order to make an exit immediately after arriving via some connector ramp, so I'm sympathetic to the cause. And because the driver was courteous enough to use his/her turn signal, I held back and left a gap for him/her to enter in front of me, which (s)he gratefully accepted.
Then I took a second look and saw the "Yes on 8" sticker adorning the vehicle's rear bumper.
Yes, I have to admit that for a brief moment, I pondered whether I regretted having shown compassion to somebody who not only exhibited a complete lack in that same department, but who wears that deficiency like a badge of honor.
But I'm pleased to say my "rational mind" won the internal debate. And besides, sometimes the best way is simply to lead by example. |
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| Coming clean |
[Jun. 11th, 2009|03:11 pm] |
I have to make a confession.
Although I have a hard-earned reputation for being an eagle-eyed spelling/grammar nut, there are some words that, for no sane reason, I simply cannot spell to save my life. Sometimes they travel in pairs.
"Embarrass" and "harass." I can never remember which word gets two r's and which gets only one. No matter how many times I look them up to check, I always find myself uncertain the next time I want to use one of them.
The words themselves are fitting: it harasses me that I cannot remember, and it's embarrassing when I try to use one of them.
I'm sitting here trying to come up with some kind of memory-aid device, and the best I can come up with is this: "embarrass" is a longer word than "harass," so it makes sense that it gets more of any given letter. I'll see if that helps. But don't hold me to it! |
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| Bad typist, no cookie for you |
[May. 20th, 2009|02:30 am] |
So, although I make a hobby out of catching and documenting typos and other oddities I encounter in the course of everyday life, some of them just aren't entertaining enough to mention. The one featured in this post would be somewhat borderline, viewed on its own merits. What makes it special is that the originators of the mistake apparently are aware of it, and have taken an "interesting" style of remedial action.
This came from the box for one of the bakery items my thoughtful grandmother had sent to me back around Easter. The company is called "David's Cookies," and the stuff inside the box was unquestionably delicious. But according to the outside of the box ...
(Click on thumbnail for full-size image.)
... their web address is "www.dsvidscookies.com." Really now. That's a pretty glaring error, to have your web address misspelled on your packaging.
What's funny about this is that -- as you'll find if you click that link -- it automatically redirects to "www.davidscookies.com" (note the correct spelling) and loads as it should.
So clearly the company is aware of the typo on their packaging, and therefore bought the misspelled domain and set it to redirect to the intended one, just in case people try to go there. The interesting implication, of course, is that they think people will read the incorrect URL on the package and somehow think it's really meant to be "www.dsvidscookies.com" and not "www.davidscookies.com," even though "David's Cookies" is written correctly right above it, and if you think about it, "dsvidscookies" really just doesn't make a whole lot of sense to begin with...
In other words, their decision to buy the misspelled domain doesn't really hide the mistake; it just assumes they have a lot of dumb customers. And I can gather only that the company must have a huge stockpile of unused packages, because I can't imagine why they'd buy an extra domain, set up the web redirect, and not even bother to fix the mistake (if nothing else, by printing up stickers with the correct address to slap over the misspelled one on the boxes).
As far as I'm concerned, all of that makes this one plenty amusing enough to post. |
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| Can you take the heat? |
[May. 18th, 2009|04:39 pm] |
I am well aware that outside temperature displays in cars are notoriously inaccurate, especially when the car has been sitting parked in a hot spot for a while, but generally I assume any exaggeration is within a ten-degree range.
Therefore, while it probably wasn't actually this hot in Fremont yesterday, this number isn't too far off, and I don't think I've ever seen a number this high on my car's outside temperature display ... so I had to take a picture. I had just gotten back from running the famous "levee from hell," and the heat was apparently fitting for that metaphor.
(Click on thumbnail for full-size image.)
(Actually, it was one degree higher a moment earlier, but it decreased before I had a chance to take the picture.) |
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| Making the most of a broken system |
[May. 14th, 2009|04:24 pm] |
Many Americans who have endured economic and/or medical hardship have come face-to-face with the sad realities of the broken US healthcare system. Although I have been lucky enough never to find myself with inadequate coverage when I have been insured, my unemployed periods have brought into sharp relief the sheer absurdity of health insurance manifested as a profit-driven industry, access to which is strangely tied to employment. It's "adding insult to injury" at its worst; is this really the American dream?
Fortunately, there are mechanisms in place to help some of the many Americans who fall through the cracks, although you have to be armed to the teeth with knowledge and persistence to make use of any of them. Today, I stumbled upon an article highlighting some options, and I learned some valuable tidbits. E.g., the fact that if you get group health insurance -- such as through an employer -- you cannot be denied coverage for pre-existing conditions; and that depending on which state you live in, a "group" can be defined as two people or even one person.
I consider this article highly recommended reading for all Americans, whether or not they have good insurance; even if you do, you never know when one of life's unpleasant surprises could change that. (Unless, of course, you're insanely rich and believe in the current system, in which case you could use a lesson in humility and egalitarianism.)
http://www.cnn.com/2009/HEALTH/05/14/preexisting.condition.insurance/index.html?eref=rss_latest
Either way, I hope President Obama and his congressional cohorts manage to triumph over industry lobbyists and their tired, dogmatic, greed-driven, thoroughly refuted propaganda, and save us from the dark ages of healthcare as soon as possible. All of these wacky peripheral options, obscure definitions, loopholes, and various ad hoc social safety nets trying to compensate for the lack of a simple single-payer system remind me of all the weird orbital mechanics that had to be invented to account for the movements of other heavenly bodies back when Earth was believed to be the center of the solar system: once astronomers triumphed over dogma and rightly "put" the sun at the center, all observable phenomena were automatically accounted for, and everything just made a lot more elegant sense.
I guess one could say our healthcare system needs a modern-day Copernican Revolution. |
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| A blank, broken, altogether mislabeled POS |
[May. 6th, 2009|01:33 am] |
You know the drill ... click on thumbnails for full-size images.
The system "inn't" the only thing that's broken. Maybe the news network forgot to turn off their Subtitle Dubyafier after Obama took office...
If you ask me, this is kind of like holding an AA meeting at happy hour.
We'll just let this one speak for itself. (Thanks to Lucian for catching this and snapping the photo in the Emeryville Barnes & Noble.)
I am well aware that in this context, "POS" means "Point Of Sale," but it's difficult for me to divorce my perceptions from the other more common context in which "POS" is an abbreviated euphemism for something not uttered around polite company ... in which case Dell sure ain't foolin' around. |
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| Say what? |
[May. 3rd, 2009|03:06 pm] |
Not quite the type of text message you expect to receive from your roommate who drove home from the same place separately from you, a short time before you:
"Careful of big bag of garbage on 80" |
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| Ask the source |
[Apr. 30th, 2009|04:39 pm] |
My latest unwanted-free-one-year-subscription issue of Rolling Stone showed up in the mail today, with a picture of Bob Dylan on the cover, and all I could think was:
"How does it feel, to be, like, on Rolling Stone?"
(Slight liberties taken.) |
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| "Brake"-dancing |
[Apr. 8th, 2009|01:38 am] |
A couple times over the course of my last few car service visits, I'd been warned that my brake pads (factory originals from mid 2006) were getting low. So it was with some trepidation that I brought my car in for its most recent service appointment, half expecting to get a call a few hours later declaring my brake pads retired and in need of immediate and expensive replacement.
Much to my [pleasant] surprise, when the "your car is ready" call came that afternoon, it was without any such imperative qualifier. I wasn't about to look a gift Subaru in the grille, but I did feel the need to inquire about some relevant details with my service advisor when I returned to retrieve my chariot. After all, even if my brake pads were still good, I was sure their days were numbered by that point, and I wanted to know what to expect in the coming months.
Based on the technician's measurements, she told me my brake pads were still good to go for a while longer. But then she checked my car's service records, and things got interesting as she came to the striking realization that my brake pads had measured thicker that day than they had during a service appointment in 2007(!).
Obviously that made no realistic sense, and she attributed the discrepancy to a recent change in service management (which brings up some incredibly rank fishiness, but that's another subject). However, if you ask me, the entire affair gives a whole new meaning to the term "regenerative braking." Ah, the magic of those "organic compounds"... |
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| Tragedy erupts in Binghamton |
[Apr. 3rd, 2009|02:03 pm] |
I'm not pleased to say that my hometown has made it onto the main page of CNN.com (still there, as I write this). A horrific hostage situation erupted in downtown Binghamton NY this morning, and current estimates put the death toll at 13 (including the gunman).
It appears, then, that the situation itself is over, leaving the survivors, and the families of the murdered, to deal with the aftermath.
People who live in a place like Binghamton NY don't expect to deal with this sort of thing. People whose families live in Binghamton also don't. Apparently the epicenter was perilously close to the county mental health clinic where my mom (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) kyle_webb) works, and additionally, she tells me she's had to play a role as part of her job in counseling those immediately affected.
An incomprehensibly tragic experience for some, and a little too close for comfort for many others. My thoughts go out to everybody there. |
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| One pioneer's transformative experience |
[Mar. 10th, 2009|07:07 pm] |
One of the most interesting principles I learned in my Cognitive Psychology courses is that understanding the functioning of the human brain has often relied on determining when and why it malfunctions.
Imagine spending your professional life trying to unravel the mysteries of severe mental illness, and then waking one day to find yourself experiencing a stroke -- and the systematic cognitive meltdown that accompanies it.
I just watched a video of a talk given by Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor, who encountered precisely that, and lived (and recovered) to tell the tale. Not only was her talk scientific and informative, but it was also philsophical, artistic, and altogether captivating. We're talking about a brain injury that affects so many people, and yet we hear relatively little about the subjective experience of those affected.
Dr. Bolte Taylor's powerful delivery illuminates her side of that experience, and also opens the audience's eyes to the life-altering revelations she had as a result. I highly recommend taking the time to watch the video:
http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/jill_bolte_taylor_s_powerful_stroke_of_insight.html
(Thanks to Peter for forwarding the link.) |
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| Legal representation needed! |
[Mar. 9th, 2009|01:43 pm] |
Dear friends, acquaintances, and various people who may be reading my LiveJournal:
I need pro bono legal representation, and my attempts to find it have been exhaustive and unsuccessful, so I'm pulling out all the stops to see if anybody reading this might be able to provide any recommendations, referrals, or leads.
I have been dealing with a case of photo theft and unauthorized impersonation (identity theft, as far as I'm concerned) since the beginning of November, which is when it was brought to my attention that somebody was using my pictures via Yahoo Messenger. Anybody who has been reading my LiveJournal for a while knows I've dealt with this kind of ridiculousness a number of times, and usually it's a simple matter of contacting the relevant customer service department to report the matter and have the offending user dealt with.
I reported this case to Yahoo way back in the beginning of November, but in response, they have shown levels of incompetence, incoherence, and ambivalence that I didn't even think possible. They have even assured me on numerous occasions that they have taken appropriate action, only for me to catch the offender later with my picture still posted in Yahoo Messenger.
It's been over four months but Yahoo still has permitted this case of identity theft to continue unabated. This is unacceptable and intolerable, and I cannot let a precedent be set for such profoundly poor customer service, especially in such an important personal matter. I have been referred from the Attorney General to the Oakland Legal Aid Office to the Alameda County Bar Association, but in each case I've run up against a dead end.
My quandary is this: I am confident that if I take Yahoo to court, the case will be decided quickly in my favor, and result in more than enough in damages to cover any legal fees. Unfortunately, it is not within my budget to pay for legal representation previous to the point of a court decision. This is why I need pro bono assistance. However, it appears the only way I might find that would be through word-of-mouth referral, or fortuitously stumbling upon somebody who might take the case.
That's why I'm asking all of you. I'm just about out of options at this point, but every day this impersonation is permitted to continue, I become more deeply troubled by the knowledge that my identity is being abused and that Yahoo refuses to do anything about it. If you have any possible referrals, please comment on this post, or if you're not comfortable doing so, e-mail me directly (mrw11@cornell.edu).
Thank you. |
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| So bad, it's good... |
[Mar. 2nd, 2009|11:42 pm] |
Before you ask, no, I have no qualms whatsoever about tooting my own horn about this sort of horrific groan-inducer:
Lucian (trying to figure out some of the organizational features of his new iPod Touch): "How do you make an album...?"
Me: "Well, first you get a recording contract, then you book studio time..." |
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| Signature style |
[Mar. 1st, 2009|11:01 pm] |
This may be the best signature ever. And it's not just because it's a total mess and bears not even the slightest resemblance to the name it's supposed to represent, as is often the case; no, this one stands head and shoulders above the rest because usually, messy signatures are quick to produce and thus are typically borne of laziness. (Mine is a prime example.) Yet this one is an elaborate work of chicken-scrawl art, evoking a minimalist interpretation of a wheat field, or maybe the top of a barbed-wire fence. Or as somebody else put it, "It's like 'I'm testing the pen.'"
(Click on thumbnail for full-size image.) |
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