Progress or Regress?

I would quote this article, but I find it obnoxious and poorly-written.

Let me piece together here is how it stands:

NAF, Planned PArenthood, some doctors sue in three major cites (well, one is Lincoln, Nebraska...).

They sue to overturn the ban on partial birth abortion and the ban on the dialation and extraction method of abortion.

Their stated reason for this: the language of the ban "could criminalize more common types of abortion."

photo by Mark Finnern.
Displayed here in accordance with the Creative Commons License.

Its been a while since I've been able to get to a computer or the internet (this is normally a good thing, though the widthdrawal symptons do start kicking in hard after a while).

This lapse of digital-void-time-wasting has been due in part, as usual, to sporadic travel. First to the city, San Fran, only 30 minutes away from my current residence.

Friday night The Random Englishman and I watched the latest Coen brothers' movie (The Ladykillers), drank a bunch of good beer in the theater, saw the most beautiful [woman of ill repute] in the world on 5th street (the street of man, hmm), and grabbed a few bottles of wine and hiked up the lovely Bernal Heights. Though the city is pretty in the morning (which it wasn't) as you can see from the borrowed photo above, it is SPEC-TACULAR at night. The fog creeping over the city, the innumberable lights... Bernal heights is postioned such that you can have a 360-degree view of nearly the entire city, all within the space of a 5-minute walk around the summit (while being blasted by enough cell phone towers to make you glow for weeks).

After three or four hours of sleep, I woke up two hours later than i was supposed to, and drove to Sacramento and pickedup a old-friend who was traveling down through California.

Then, after 20+ hours awake, 11+ of that being on the road, and a nice long visit at LuluCarpenter's (coffee shop) in Santa Cruz with HeraclitusChanging, I found myself back in Southern California, just for a few days i promise. I'm sure I'm leaving out something, but there you have it.

Wow, it seems as if Achilles (of AchillesRunning fame) has discovered Hector's Neoterornous blog.

Hop over there for some frenzied-commenting dialetic.

Kerry whacks Bush
on WMD comment
Responds to president's joke delivered at dinner, asks 'He thinks that's funny?'

So, I just finish having this phenomenal dream. I wake up, but immediately close my eyes in order to remember it better.

It was one of those dreams that you want to remember. So I look at my clock, 11:38 am. Crap, I'm late for work. I get up, write down the dream, get dressed, etc, and go on with my day...

Then I wake up again...

To no written-down-dream. And it's only 9:23 am. Sigh. I go back to sleep.

What a weird morning of dreaming and waking and waking only to find that your still dreaming. Good times.

On a side note, an eternal question:


Are ALL of the most prolific Blogger's unemployed?



This in response to The Commissar's terrific article on bloggers, and to the responses.

This from a post I posted over at Toque's blog.

My body's circadian rhythm keeps tending towards a 2:30-pm to 5:30 am activity cycle.

I have just realized something, with the help of the recently mentioned TM.

That "breath of fresh air" that I am always trying to get by going on road trips and mountain climbs and such is really the touch of the Holy Spirit.

Of course, many times it comes in conjunction with those activities...

But it seems to me that the sure place to find Him is in the Sacraments.

2004.03.21

2004.03.18

Huh

Oh, man, I love those little fish symbols that folks put on the back of their cars.

The fish was one of the first symbols of Christianity and of Christ.

The origin of this, i do believe -- and correct me if i am wrong -- was from the greek word for fish, which was used as an acronym for the phrase "Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior."

The symbol of the fish was, for a time anyway, used as a covert sign of belonging to the Brootherhod, as the Church was known back then.

Ah, the stories of the early Church! What a magical, wonderful time! God's hand so close, Christ's presence so recent, God's grace so bounteous!

Ahh yes, and those lovely people who, i suppose in reference to some ideaology opposed to that of the universal Church, mock it by putting those little fish with feet on their cars! What a brilliant, though definately non-standard, way of attacking those who deny the existence of the Creator! What a way to represent the cold hard facts of life to those who have lost sight of reality, those who have become ensared in and enamored of the illusions and mock-ups which spawn within their feeble minds. Way to smack those lacking common sense in the face with the simple, irrefutable message of truth that everyone already knows: Fish with feet do not exist.



Wait, I'm getting a message... Incoming from the mothership...

Hold on, hold on, you don't mean to tell me that people who put the darwin-fish-with-feet-things on their cars think that they are SUPPORTING darwin's views???!

The only thing they suppport (and confirm with out a doubt) is that humans can look you in the eye, nd without hesitation, affirm falsity (or to word it better -- deny truth, even obvious, apparent, and logically sound truth).



This is sheer lunacy, and insufferable idiocy.



The ability to "rationalize anything" is, I believe, the product of a long process of teaching oneself how to turn one's intellect off. Which is accomplished by completely detaching one's starting principles from truth.

Here's a sample dialogue I can imagine having with one of these protozoa, assuming that a dialogue could actually happen, which it probably countn't, given that you need to agree on something before such a conversation could take place -- say the existence of truth, for starters --



Fish-monger: (confidently) Darwin says that fish have feet!
Me: has Darwin ever seen a fish?


or

Fish-Monger: Look, this fish has legs
Me: that's because you cut off your hamster's legs and super-glued them too that fish! you're sick, man!


or

Fish-Monger: (sing-song voice) Fish have legs! Fish have legs!
Me: no they don't.
Fish-Monger: I believe what I want to belive.
Me: I am sure you do. That much is obvious.


There is no truth in this. If I belive what I want to believe, and so do you, and we disagree,there is no solution. Thus something is and is not in the same respect andd the same way (to use the common phraseology). And this is what these nice folks believe.

Which, if anyone thought about it, should not make you very confidant about them AT ALL.



And this article should not convey any diminuative opinion or imply any ill-will to any who profess the fish-monger profession as a way of life; I am well convinced that it is a noble and worthy trade, and I have met several very well-educated and pleasant fish-mongers in my travels.

This is just too good to pass up.

...from the WTF? dept...

...from the juxtaposition !X@#$! department...

If by some weird hiccup of fate you missed this article (Cheney's speech on terrorism) over at Michael William's Master of None, please go read it. Truthful, honest, and clear statements on the current state of terrorism and so forth. Solid.

Billings area stages 'disaster' emergency drills today


"Billings?"


Wait, something about a swan... Lewis something? Eb White... Nope, its gone...



Hmm, last I checked "Billings" was...


[much exhaustive research]


...in Montana. What is the population of Billings, Montana? Or Montana in general?


[more exhaustive research]


Ah-hah. From this site here, the population of Billings is 89,847. The population of Montana is 902,195 (courtesy of here).


Combine those two telling figures with the fact that most americans, much less most terrorists have never heard of Montana, much less being able to find it on a map, and I think that we have a pretty stunning conclusion:

Nobody is going to terrorize Billings.



But the smart Billings people are one step ahead of the game.

"Sooner or later, we're going to have one. It may not be terrorists, but it could be a natural disaster," Jochems said.

Uh-huh. One WHAT?



Some more highlights:

"There were a few small glitches...but nothing glaring, according to Billings Fire Chief Marv Jochems."

His name is Marv. Cool.

"Today, the exercise will be more animated. Full-scale simulations - complete with "injured" victims, "intruders" and fake bombs - will be held..."

"This week's drill, which was two years in the making..."

Okay, a bit excessive. And, still, the lingering question -- WHY?


But some further prying (as in reading the article) lends an answer to that question...

The drill, perhaps the largest ever staged in Yellowstone County, is required of the five largest communities in Montana. It's also a requirement for local agencies to receive certain grant money from the Department of Homeland Security, which will reimburse the agencies for the drill.



Oh, those crazy "local agencies." The will do anything for that grant money, won't they?




And from the Priceless Quotations Department:

"It was confusing a few times and noisy in that small room," Jochems said.

From the Compare and Contrast Department:

"We did really, really well during the drill and identified some necessary resources that we need but don't have," Jochems said.
...

"Sarin, a colorless and odorless nerve gas, wafted from three canisters and into the mall, killing perhaps 30 people and injuring 80 more."

Hmm...



However, God Bless Montana for two things:
1) the no speed limit law (which they just axed a few years ago)
2) no restrictions on open containers (rub this in the face of MADD)

Well, so much for the "perfect" poker.

So, anyways, I'm leaving SoCal for a while, maybe for good.

Thoughts on this? Well, it's been a good run. There's a few loose ends I expect to tie up tommorrow, and then it's like the song says: "another chapter in this life is through."

Well, I expect to keep blogging, so y'all stay informed I suppose...

G'night and God Bless.

- Dz

Read Rumsfeld on war in Iraq. A few flaws, but worth the read, and mostly correct.

From the poetry archives (soon to be re-established online, currently down)::

Written Monday, February 23, 2004.

Just made a far-out mate-based refreshing summer drink. Unfortunately, the coffee machine i brewed it through was old and saturated with coffee...

The concoction contained (concoction contained? huh?) soy milk, mate, sugar, water, but had this terrible burnt-coffee after taste that ruined it.

Oh, where is a french press when you need one?

Life without an Alarm Clock

Chronicles of an Unemployed College-Dropout

Volume II




Waking up once again, to a messy, empty house.

Before I attack the mess, which seems to be more or less my duty, or at least something good to do -- Besides, it's rewarding... -- before I attack it anyhow, I sit and clear my head, have a bowl of cereal, do a little coding...

I survey the scene, as well as recall several highlights of last night.

1) I constructed a wall of liquor in the cabinet above the stove, creating a defensive ring of scoresby and jack daniels to shield the "good stuff."

2) I played nearly perfect poker, losing big and early to set the stage, and then coming back to being second richest on the table from 4 chips.

However, this "perfect poker" was soon interupted because, while I was playing everything right for the cards I saw, I saw the wrong cards. I thought that the Ace of Hearts, which was flopped at the far end of the table was a diamond...

This cost me quite a bit, and rattled me so bad that I didn't really recover. During the next tourney which I played in, a few minutes later in the night, I did almost the same thing, picking up my cards once and mistaking my Queen-Jack for a King-Queen somehow. This time I was rattled even worse, and though there were only two men in the house who I feared as poker players, something wasn't right (like my vision). And there's nothing quite as upsetting to be all-in and flip your cards thinking you have a win and realizing that you don't have the cards you bet on.

3) The heart transplant of the computer world is underway in the living room. I have swapped the CPU's between two Dell laptops and ... (drumroll) ... neither work now. This is the computer equivalent of both patients dying on the operating table. Except that there still is hope...

4) Bought some good, clay poker chips and a folding, felt poker-table-top for a good price online. 500 chips!

5) It's a typical humid almost-summer SoCal day. Whooee! Time to drive to Claremont!

Book, Movie, Music Update

Orthodoxy, G.K. Chesterton	trailers for starsky and hutch, anchorman, the punisher	gillian welch, luther allison, buena vista social club, Homelands Ireland, Sasha, The Orb...

Spellbound.

[]



I have fallen for her before.

But not that corpse of a feeling which you know

You will not act upon, the hollow kind


But rather the tingling of the spine

That melting of the heart

This is me, a puddle on the floor


The thousand thousand bubbles of joy

The freezing shock of being suddenly

Rendered immobile by her grace


A grace which assuredly descends

Straight from God

And makes my tears run


I have fallen for her before,

A secret whisper in a corner...

A promised dance


"I think I'm in love"

The giggles of a supporting friend

The catalyst of the dancing


She sits alone, depressed

The cars belt out Just What I Needed,

As I ask her to dance


I cannot fathom

How I crossed that floor

Or dared to hold her hand


And gently spin

Around the floor

With my heart pounding


I have fallen before, for her

And before her, I

Would lie -- at her feet


And die, my soul swooning

Before her beauty, and

Though it be idolatry --


I have fallen for her before.

And here's one for the masses::

Think of it as a blessing or a curse, what you will, but recognize it's overwhelming beauty (and the sound effects).

Maelstrom

Oregon in Brief

Volume 1.7-9


A thousand miles of highway five. Shasta, Mt. Hood, Castle Crags, the snow, the beauty, the shoulder pass of the big rigs on a shimmering oregon morning highway.

Steaming into Oregon after fifteen hours behind the wheel. Getting a little jumpy; eyes can no longer shift around without pain. They are bound into looking straight ahead, or looking at whatever they are already looking out. We all jump around a bit after getting out of the car, bring out a little bottle (actually a 5th) of jim beam and take a few sips...

Some few hours of broken sleep. Birds chirping, people moving around. Not a deep sleep, but some kinda sleep anyway.

The wedding.

[The craziness of the recording. Look for this in Volume 1.]

The reception, broken mixers [turned out to be okay, actually, some kookiness of the s/pdif in]

The reception, wine, drunken toasting, hard-to-hear prank messages, weird european ritual dance thing -- me not going to do, more wine, and mixing...

Then out the door, food, wendy's -- a drunken toast, CrashBoxing orders his food at wendy's by gesturing with his mini pastic wine glass at the item on the menu. Here we are, in full wedding garb, somewhat sauced and in wendy's, with our beverages. As we sit down, CrashBoxing is telling me about his strange experiences with alchohol, how sometimes he drinks and drinks and never feels a thing, and goes to bed, and how sometimes he does not drink very much but still gets absurdly toasted. As I am taking this all in, he also mentions how sometimes he is not feeling it at all and then it hits him as a sledgehammer. Two minutes later he nearly falls out of his chair. "It just hit me," he reports, struggling to maintain his balance.

We get back, I am determined to go to bed right away -- remember 15 hours on the road, 3-4 hours of bad sleep [any sleep is good sleep, but this is relatively poor quality], a wedding reception, we are going on 24 hours since departure from Southern California. That determination soon becomes a determiniation to have a beer and then go to bed. So I go buy two cases of corona and some lemons [why i didn't get limes i dunno] at the "convenient, yes?" safeway across the street from our place-of-residence-for-the-weekend.

Then the determination flounders, I succumb to peer pressure and I end up waltzing down the street to the local bar, where people are singing kareoke. We start to annoy them, and gradually take over the bar by our overwhelming numbers of underage ladies. After a while I sit down at the the bar and drink glass after glass of jack. Then some good conversations later, we walk back down the street to the aforementioned place of residence. I go to bed quickly.

I do not sleep well, and wake up hung over somewhat and not feeling too pleasant. So, I cook breakfast. RelapsedNerd and I go to the aforementioned safeway and procure some supplies for our envisioned feast. A friend whom I will only refer to as Old Man River accompanies us, and in no great amount of time at all, we realize that his hilarious antics are due in part to his wonderful sense of humor, but that that beautiful facet of his character has been ridiculously heightened by the fact that, despite it being somewheres around 9:30 or 10 in the morning, he is still absurdly slom-boppered. This provides much amusement to us all, and much discomfort to everyone else in the store, which only increases our amusement.

Cut to the kitchen. I am deeply involved [way over my head] in a kitchen-size fiasco that, at the time, i could only describe as "cooking." Between flipping bacon, cracking eggs, cheese, taking pulls off my now-cap-less bottle of beam, we had a kitchen that rapidly became full of incredible smells and consequently ravenous tac'ers. Not only did we have every burner on the stove going all the time, we even made delicious breakfast burritos for the owners of the house [or relatives of].

Here I am, in the kitchen.

People swarm around me, I am an oasis of concentration. Mostly focused on a one-sided dialogue with my friend Jim.

Suddenly, in the midst of swirling people, fumes, food, crackingly bacon grease and whiskey, a still inebriated Old Man River stumbles in, distributing fortune cookies to the myriads of dirty, disheveled, and hung-over wedding-celebrators, like some cracked-out imitator of St. Nicholas.

I, suffering from massive sensory overload, massive hang over, and massive tiredness concentrate my entire being upon this new gift. All my mental powers are focused on the problem at hand: "How do you open this?"

Snack!

I crack it open:





It really speaks for itself, don't it?

Beautiful!

So, dya'll like my pictures? Mas, mas?

This was found in the bathroom stall of the upper wing (on the right) of St. Peter and Paul dormitory some weeks ago. It was not posted because of logistics involving the scanner. It was found in the handicrapper stall, with the pen on the floor, and, from all appearances, the author subsequently flushed himself down the toilet. Oh, ye gods! How we mortals suffer so!

Life as Oh


Warning! Musings Ahead!


It seems that life is on some level essentially an Oh. As in,

"Oh, that's how it is."

or

"Oh, that's what he meant."

or

"Oh, look at that!"

or just

"Oh."


I have heard it said that when you stop learning, you die. And I believe that's true, although perhaps in a way different then the orignal utter uttered it (I'm firmly convinced that everything spoken before my lifetime was uttered).

Because man's highest function is to love...[Editor: insert answers to all those questioners who don't think this here]... and love intimately involves the knowledge of the intelect ...[Editor: insert chain of reasoning, and of course proofs from the good old philosophers]... Then man's natural progression to his highest end involves knowing. And the way we know involves the arcane, mystical process known as learning.

And learning seems to be something based on existence. But the claim here is that it is not only based on existence, but necessary for existence. How could this be true?

Well, perhaps in this way:

Wait,

Actually, given more time I would more properly make this argument backwards from God as the highest end first. [backwards as the highest end first??! Huh?] ... But that's for another time and place.

[Okay, let's start over again.]

The Role of Learning in Man's Essential Existence

[And give it a title in bold, that will make it official.]

1) Assume that man is created by a personal, loving God, who man can, in some way know and love, and that some means of this are provided for by God to man, or the human race at large.

2) Assume that man's final end is to love God. [why were you created? to know, love and serve...etc]

Thus, man, being in a state of not having achieved his end [nmely, loving God to the highest extent possible, let that be] he will move towards it. And since it is the essential fulfillment of his nature and created purpose, as long as he is moving towards this goal, he is increasingly becoming more real. As his existence is fulfilled more and more [whether it be by his efforts or by God's grace, let that be], he exists to a greater and greater extent.

And this motion towards his end is accomplished in this life by a chain of events. We gather knowledge through daily living, many times by sheer brute experience, even monotony. This increasing knowledge of life, in turn, from every facet of existence, increases our knowledge of God. And the more we know God, the more it is possible for us to love Him.

[His nature being infinite and ours being finite, and assuming that we are able to love Him, any and all limitations are clearly on our side of the table.]

[Love is fundamentally a motion of the will, and the will is informed by the intellect, and can only act insofar as it has that information, be it by sense experience, the hard facts of life [induction], or directly by grace.]

Thus, here is a conclusion of this train of thought.

Learning is an early step in the chain of events that leads to increased existence, specifically as in fulfilling the essential goal of humanity more completely.

As such, it is mistaken for that which actually matters in these considerations, but this is an exception from the strict way of speaking of things to prove a point, much like a hyperbole. The way to continue growing towards God [for that is what it is] is to increase the possesed knowledge of Him.

[I belive that this is universal to all walks of life, though perhaps some may circumvent the learning and simply love what they already know at some high level. But I doubt that any but Jesus [and Mary?] could do that because of the disproportion between God and man.]

This possesed knowledge of God then, by an [inspired] act of the will increases the love of God, and thus the life and the existence of the person involved.

And conversely, when the love decreases, it also decreases the capacity to love, which is precisely [though perhaps not limited to or only] the knowledge. Sin makes us forget, or act like we have forgotten. And so we regress, and we die. And this is essentially because we do not love as much any longer, but caused, in part, or as a consequence, by diminished knowledge.


So keep saying, "Oh", excitedly.


more clearer thoughts on this later i promise

But despite the fact that its time for bed, this is too good to pass up:

After a really good conversation with a buddy I will refer to here only as RR, in which one of these specific passages came up (the depraved generation one) it is only right that they be represented here.


From the Divine Office

(Wednesday, Week II of Lent, Evening Prayer)



Their plan is only to destroy:
they take pleasure in lies.

Psalm 62


In everything you do, act without grumbling or arguing; prove yourselves innocent and straightforward, children of God beyond reproach in the midst of a twisted and depraved generation -- among whom you shine like the stars in the sky while holding fast to the word of life.

Phillippians 2:12b-16 (selection)


Lord, guide the minds and hearts of peoples and all in public office, may they always seek the common good.

Bless your people, Lord.



I wonder if i am the only person saying the evening office at this time, given that it is 5:25 in the morning and that the international date line is only four hours west. That means that unless someone in hawaii or alaska is saying it as 2 or 3 am, I am the only one. Far out. Guess that fits with being late and last and all. But think of how many people have already said those prayers sometime in the last 24 hours. It gives one hope (like Endless account of OLA -- The Endless Approach).

a strange life (style)

Well, I guess I'll get some breakfast. (It's 4:48 am).

I lurch into the kitchen, eyes slightly glazed, teeth feeling like they needed brushing at bedtime, five and a half hours ago. At least, that would have been reasonable.

But my life (style) is nothing that reasonable members of society would demand.

Quick review of the evening as I pour my life cereal and a glass of orange juice.

Come home. (right there it needs qualification). It is somewhere around 11 or 12 or something like that. One of my roomates -- housemates, rather -- is asleep, one is drunk, complete with wine colored lips.

A bizarre process of setting up computers, wires, etc takes place, and then php and cgi code begin to flash before my eyes. An addled mechanical brain which has just been doing some of the most complex wiring ever done in an automobile before for six hours is just about spent as a crazy bash2 shell bounces back memories from long ago, which mostly escaped then, long ago.

Housemates. Yes, in the sense that we do not share rooms -- and thus become roomates. Not that we share a house. In fact, if four walls make a room, there are really only four here, though the kitchen is somewhat seperated. This means that my quote room unquote is the living room/dining room/smoking room/everything else. Which seems oddly satisfying at 4:58 am, to know that I have approximately double the amount of cubic space in my room than my apartment-mates. Aaahhh.

I finish the orange juice, and decide its time for bed.

Spoonerisms:


There was a huge craze of these things on campus last year, and once your mind starts rolling on them, they take over all of your mental processes.


Here's one I made up while lying in bed this morning:

Q: What's the difference between a poker that's been in the fire for a while, and someone who has watched too much tv?


A: One's red hot and the other's head rot!



This was one of John Marie's favorites:

Q: What's the difference between me and you?

A: Well, I'm a shining wit...

Snowboarding!! Whoooeee! At Mountain High today was awesome! Many jumps and slushy turns and mountains screamed down! Hooray! Good for the soul!

Woah!

Thanks to Coors (tm), Papst Blue Ribbon (tm), Guiness (tm), Heiniekein (tm), and the rock band Twaddle (web site: Twaddle Mountain) and the band The Velvet Crochets, as well as this man, (web site, blog type: here)...

I just quote unquote GOT this joke:

4. Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.

After here Townes Van Zandt, Bob Dylan, etc say it contless times, I finally got it! Hooray!

Fruit flies! HAh-hah! Ha!

The snowy peaks of the LA valley simmer through the fog and smog, brown and grey haze of the valley. Exquisite chant peacefulyl emmanates from the human-sized speakers that live next door. USA-flag-colored wind toys spin lethargically in the pre-evening breeze.

Don sips his mate. And rejoices in the newfound posting abilities. No more need for ftp and arcane shell commands. Sign.

Okay, let\'s see whats noteworthy today.
Martha\'s going to jail
And then theres the whatnot about mayors violating law to give gay couples certificates, planned parenthood winning cases against pro-life lawyers, and plenty of other hackle-raising events.
world net daily
cnn

peace

Well, the new post processor and posting form are now setup for my blog, so it is like a regular blog stuff now. Wow! The formatting will probably be all off, because i am now putting in html tags into this. Ah, well. Life at the StraussHouse continues. Peace.

peace