Day 2

and so it begins....again

Too long have I gazed upon this blog and not done anything....too long have your words haunted my dreams and not fallen from my fingertips to be displayed for all the world....this all stops now, as I begin again...

It gets better, vivint, Facebook....

Vivint is giving away $1,250,000 to the top charities nominated by us! Let's get some money to the It Gets Better Project!!!

1. Go onto facebook and Like 'Vivint'.
2. Go to http://www.vivint.com/givesbackproject
3. Click on Pacific region and click on It Gets Better Project
4. Click on Endorse button on bottom of page.

Click on this link:

Hello, Mr. DJ

"Pardon me, can you tell me how to get to the Soviet Emmmmmbasy?"

Terry Jones, the Koran, and Freedom of Speech

On Wednesday, September 8^th, US President Barack Obama, in a speech to the white house press corps, asserted his hope for Florida Pastor Terry Jones would reconsider his planned stunt of burning a Koran to protest 9/11. The President argued that what Mr. Jones was planning to do stood against everything the US stands for and that he would be putting service men and women abroad in danger. Mr. Jones ended up relenting, and did not burn any Korans on September 11^th, presumably because of the president’s gesture, but also because he was told (falsely) that a planned mosque would not be built near the 9/11 attack site in New York. There has been plenty of heated debate concerning whether or not this individual in Florida should have be allowed to protest in a way he saw fit, how soldiers are effected by discussions at home and abroad, and what our responsibilities as US citizens are. It is a sticky topic because while most people want to insure the freedom to speak our minds, we also want to declare our thoughts on the insane pastor’s concept of protest. The two are intertwined, and separating the two is tricky business. Here we go!

Ignoring the inane law of polluting by unlawfully burning paper (this was brought up as the legal reason Mr. Jones and his congregation shouldn’t burn the books), there are no laws that prevent anyone from burning any book as a sign of protest. Protesting is protected speech and so long as the protest isn’t obscene, seditious, or the direct, legal equivalent of physical action (IE screaming “Fire!” in a crowded theater) it is the right of any US citizen to speak on any subject they want. And while this freedom exists, it does not give people free license slander or create libelous speech (again, this falls under speech-as-action). Not every person in the country agrees with everything that is said, and for a good reasons. Democrats protest against bills that enable large corporations to pollute, and republican protest, well, about pretty much everything.

Other people protesting and speaking freely are Neo-Nazis staging marches, Baptist congregations shouting slurs at the funerals of homosexual soldiers, and the pastors of tiny, southern churches burning the Koran. The thought, according to Thomas Jefferson, is democracy is a conversation and can only function when differing sides are informed. People being kept from speaking because their opinions are the minority results in many disenfranchised citizens looking to take more dramatic steps to make themselves heard. 99% of American citizens (myself included) would think the idea of burning a Koran despicable and completely out-of-touch with anything that could even remotely be considered a positive act of protest. It could be held up as a good example of something that would be universally agreed to by the population at large. However, 1 in 4 Americans think that President Barack Obama (a practicing protestant Christian) is a Muslim. So, maybe I am on the wrong side of history, and when these people write the history books they may call this pastor a hero and Obama a Muslim. Maybe if these people keep repeating the lie to themselves, it will be remembered as fact. Who knows? And that’s the point. While it’s despicable to lie and make demonstrably false statements, it’s better for them to be vetting in public and be open to debate rather than being hushed and allowed to fester.

What is fundamentally against American ideals (as established in the Enlightenment principles of the constitution) is when citizens are not only not being allowed to express their opinions, but a forced to endure a President reminding them that they shouldn’t speak their mind out of fear of what others may think or do as a response. That’s the whole point behind the right of freedom of speech! A person can speak their mind without fear being killed for doing so. This begs the larger question of whether US citizens are allowed to behave in ways that are not only legal but strongly encouraged by our founders because enemies of the state threaten them with death.

And here I was thinking the role of the military is to defend American rights from others who would seek to undermine them through terror, intimidation, and acts of violence. US soldiers should not to be used to guilt US citizens into remaining quiet less they end up with blood on their hands. Sadly, this response really makes this insane pastor’s point: These people are so radical, that burning a book will insight them to violence, so don’t do it!

Many authors have commented on the fact that religious discussions are immune from public debate. If two coworkers disagree about the outcome of a sporting event or the results of a political race, it is culturally acceptable to discus, debate, and argue their individual point of view. However, when it comes to comparing aspects of different religions or their practices, a debater is treated as anathema. People who express belief in religious ideas are given a pass to instant credibility simply by virtue of holding these beliefs, beliefs that are immune from criticism. If a person is an active Muslim extremist who believes women to be chattel and followers of other religions should be executed, we hold that ideal in the silly realm of moral relativism and hand wave away criticisms by saying, “Oh that’s just their culture. It isn’t good or bad, it’s just different. Who are we to tell them how to behave?” So, when an arguably crazy pastor in Florida tells his congregation of fifty (!) that he will be burning the Koran to protest against the extremists who have a public agenda to take down this country, and to attack Muslims in general, it is not his fault that there will likely be protests and innocent deaths as a reaction.

He is well within his right as a full citizen of the United States to burn the Koran, the Bible, Whinny the Pooh, or the latest copy of People Magazine if he so chooses. The result of that would be many reasonably-minded Americans thinking (rightly) that he is a lunatic and other, less reasonably-minded people (whipped up into a frenzy by religious clerics and state-run news outlets) will likely riot and issue death threats. The responses of both groups of people are things that happen regardless if the person speaking has the foresight to anticipate it. In September of 2005 Danish cartoonist Kurt Westergaard published a cartoon depicting the prophet Mohammed with a bomb on his head. Up to that point, various other artists, writers, and performers had created similar, and in many arguable cases, more sacrilegious representations of the prophet Mohammed. The fact that this particular cartoon was the one piece of art chosen to be the focus of pent-up anti-Western sentiment wasn’t the fault of the author, the publisher, or the guy down the street. It is the fault of a fanatical movement that thinks a fair and reasonable response to burning a book or printing a cartoon is the death of the speaker and riots that result in several deaths of innocent bystanders. It may be the case that there is something fundamentally wrong with a reaction that cannot be brushed away with the blanket excuse of moral and cultural relativism. The reason there aren’t tens of thousands of US citizens calling for the head of this pastor or hundreds of dead bystanders, trampled to death in riots is the direct result of the right to speak to one’s mind. And while it is legal for the pastor to expound his own particular brand of hatred and intolerance it is also legal for everyone else in the country to call him out on it with words, not actions.

If these freedoms were to extend into some of the theocratic states such as Afghanistan and Iran, where their holy books establish a law that is, by definition, unassailable and absolutely correct, the radical fringe would not be allowed to make threats on the life of anyone who disagrees or cricisizes their political or religious stance. While death threats are a form of speech, they are not protected, as they act as direct incitements to violence. These people could rant and scream and protest their hatred of the man, his ideas, his congregation, and his penchant for grotesque blue blazers all day. They could scream it from the tops of minarets, on street corners, on web sites, or television broadcasts. Supporters of the pastor could rant and scream right back at them, saying such a reaction proves their point, and is hypocritical when one considers certain ideals of peace and tolerance upon which a handful of Islamic principles are based. The hope is somewhere in that discussion, there is something approaching the truth and a nominal state of peace. If it is allowed to be discovered through discussion (screaming, in this case) and not shut down by the Imam, President, or Cleric, there is at least a chance of it taking hold and changing the minds of the people.

Wrapping up the day....

Working interview went well this morning. I hope I get the job! I really don't know how to read it so I guess this is on hold until next time.

Enid is going out with me on a run tomorrow morning...she just doesn't know it yet! She is doing well on a leash and she seems to enjoy the runs so far.

Took Nikki (and Enid) for a short walk tonight. She was bouncing her back end a little on the way back but seems to be resting well right now.

Matt and I started the Insanity workouts on Sunday. We did the first workout on Monday, but decided to rest it out today as his body is quite sore. We will pick it up tomorrow! I will post pics as we progress on down the program.

Still trying to make new friends....we are branching out to meetup groups. We are for sure going to a meetup in a couple of Saturdays for appetizers, wine, and discussions on what to do the next couple of months. I am also going to pick up a book for a book club meetup and we might check out a couple of the hiking meetups! I am so excited to do new things and meet new people! It is way past due since we totally got dissed when we were back in Michigan this last time. I told so many people that we were coming into town and it looks like Mandy Boes and Dan Walsh are the only friends who cared to hang out with us outside of our parent's annual 4th of July party. I was kind of expecting it, but it still hurt. This gives me more fuel to find friends in Denver!!

Happy Friday the 13th!!!

My interview went well this morning. I now have a working interview scheduled for Tuesday and 8am. I hope that goes well and they offer me a position....and real soon!

I also applied for a position at Denver Dumb Friends League. Again, this is a part-time position, but at this point I will take whatever I can get. I want to get started working with animals and learning new techniques. Making some money is also an incentive!

We are off to bowling tonight with a few friends. I suspect it will be a great time! Tomorrow we are setting up to brew a new batch of beer - an Oberon look-a-like...we will see how that goes. Sunday is our big night at the Hi-Dive. There our eyes will partake in all sort of debauchery acts...or so we have been told. Super Happy Funtime Burlesque show hits Denver......a review (of sorts) to come later.

Let the fun begin....Cheers!

It's been a long time....

I haven't posted in a long, long time and thought today would be good to start again. Since I wrote last I have done a lot including:

• A great internship at Alameda East where I learned a ton and met some great people.
• Graduated from Bel-rea Institute of Animal Technology on June 7, 2010
• Returned to Michigan for a month long excursion....restful and relaxing!
• Passed my VTNE on July 24, 2010! Yay, I'm a Certified Veterinary Technician

Now I am on the search to find my first Vet tech job. I am excited as I have an interview tomorrow! I will update after I get back home.

Tiny Enid is no longer that tiny. I took her to the Vet last week and she is 47lbs and in great health. She may become my running dog. I took her out on a little run yesterday and she did great and appeared to enjoy it....we'll see!

Nikki is doing well. She has had a few seizures in the past couple of weeks, luckily they have only been small ones. I will need to take her into the Vet soon to see about her incontinence and back pain.

Ocyrus and Athena are doing great! They are coming up on 10yrs in September.

Matt has been here the past couple of weeks and I have really enjoyed him being around. I know that in the near future he will be on the road again, but I'm cherishing the time I have with him while I can!

More to come...and a lot sooner than the last time!

What a day!

This day has run the gambit and has kept me on my toes.

• It started off with me waking up and being totally exhausted which changed my plans of going to the gym. I am still trying to get over this bacteria thing and don't want to risk it.
• I went to school and found out I didn't do so great on my first mini CPE.
  
• Later on in the afternoon I took a Clin Chem test and think I probably did bad.
  
• I got out to my car and found that I got a parking ticket.
  

Sheesh!!!! It can only look up from here....and it did!

Everything was made right when I got home and checked my email. I received an invitation to intern at Alameda East, my first choice! I am so excited they have so many great areas to that hospital. They have a MRI for goodness sakes! I will be doing rotations in all areas some of which are General Practice, Lab, Pharmacy, Dentistry, Internal Medicine, Emergency, Physical Therapy, Surgery.... I will be getting information on what I do and when a couple weeks before I begin and I will update at that point.

I can't wait to start!!!

No excuse, I'm just lazy....

Ok, the title isn't exactly true of my character, just of me updating the blog. Here I go....

It is now 2010, which I still cannot believe. This is going to be such a momentous year I think I may implode.

• My Dad will be turning 60! I hope the 'ole man can still ride his Harley after that birthday (j/k, love you Dad!).
• Matt and I will be celebrating our 5 year wedding anniversary in June....we have forgotten to celebrated it each year up to this so this is our chance to make it right!
• What we usually remember to celebrate is the day that we started dating, November 1. This year will be 10 yrs since we made it "official".
• Our lovely kitties are going to be 10 yrs old in October.
• The biggest event of this year will happen in June when I graduate from Bel-rea Institute with an Associate of Applied Science Degree in Veterinary Technology! I have never finished a college degree before this, so yeah, this is kinda a big deal! :)

Whew! There is a lot coming up ahead. I want to say that I will update this thing more often but in the words of Sanjay (Apu's brother) "I promise nothing."

It is my duty..

...to be called for jury... duty.

Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all week. Don't forget to tip your waiters.

NOTE: This is a boring recap of my experiences as a juror. It's pretty much for my own records (as the squishy, gray-matter version in my head does a shit job of remembering the details of these things...), but you're welcome to read through. I'll try to make it as interesting as being a juror can be.

c. April, 2009
I received a summons to report for Jury Duty. "It's your duty!" It says. I sigh and punch my dog in the slats, as I am wont to do when frustrated.

I respectfully postponed my service on the date it provided not out of a sense of anarchic or hatred for the government, but because I was due to be in Texas, installing a full-dome theater system on the same day. I was also, kindly, asked by my employer to postpone it, for the same reason. They aquiesced, saying, "You can only postpone once. Please provide a date you absolutly cannot postpone. It must be within 6 months.

I put in the date furthest out as that was where my calendar showed the least amount of activity.

c. September, 2009

Another summons appears in my mailbox. I had hoped they had someone forgotten about me.

This summons helpfully informed me, "This is the date you will appear at the jury commissioner's office. Since you've postponed your service once, don't even fucking think about not showing up. We'll, like, totally put a bench warrent out for your arrest, you asshole." I decided not to call their bluff.

I inform my employer I will not be able to work on the day I appear. I also remind them that they have to pay me for the first 3 days. HA! It is likely, I tell them, I will be cut from the list as they call many more than actually serve and I know of no one who has actually sat on a trial.

They reply with much of the same as before, "Why don't you postpone? You're needed elsewhere in the world!" I refer them to the above blog post and they remember, yes, that had I already postponed and to not show would result in being tossed in the pokey. (I love "pokey" as a synonym for "jail")

October 13th, 2009

6:20AM
Mandy wakes my up by sicking the dogs on me in bed.

I wake, wondering why this is happening. Then it comes to me: Oh yes. Today I have to get up at 6:30, to drive her to class, return home, shower, and head off to the court house. I do this.

8:20AM
They jury commission does not provide parking for the would-be jurors. They do, helpfully, discount our parking if we park in a lot that is several block away. I park in this lot and walk to the court house.

I pass the security (coat through scanner, wanded, frisked, asked to lift pant-legs (I assume to determine if I wore tasteful socks this morning)).

I proceed to the fourth floor of the building where I join something like 300 other would-be jurors. We watch a horrible video explaining that the man in the video is proud of us and we should grin and bare this itrusion into our busy schedules. Something about patriotism.

9:10AM
A womans voice on the PA says, "I will begin calling names for the courtrooms. We move fast, so shut up and pay attention." She actually said, "Shut up and pay attention." I laughed out loud and slapped the guy next to me on the shoulder.

My name third called out of the room of 300. 1:100 odds against.

9:30AM

We are marched to a courtroom and told to sit in the jurors box. Sidelong glances are thrown at the dude in the cuffs seated at the defense table. There are many more people than would actually sit on a trial. This confuses me, so I eat a small handful of the peanuts I keep in my coat for just such an occasion. I wonder why the number is so large. Usually, the number of jurors ranges from 3 - 12 depending on the nature of the case (criminal, federal, civil, corporate, etc). Hey! I've seen a few minutes of Law & Order once!

9:35AM

A bald, young judge enters and tells us each to stand and give some information about ourselves. We do this. He dismissed a few of the would-be jurors on basic disqualifications (one, literally, could not speak English beyond saying, "No... no eng... no eng... no.") Another was a retired cop, etc, etc.

Each time a juror was dismissed, another person from the overflow group would take their seat. This continued, in kind, until everyone had said their lot.

We entered a phase called voir dire (French: to say the truth). This is where the prosocutor (representing the State) and the defense (representing the person being tried) ask the jurors questions. Anything and everything they want. People have to answer honestly, under threat of perjuring (another way to go to jail in this process as everything we say is said in Open Court, so a matter of the court record and is a form of testomony... or something).

As people said things like, "I hate cops." and "No, I can't look past any biases I have." They were dismissed with the thanks of the court.

The defense guy, a smarmy bloke with no neck asked me, "How would you rate the legal system."

"I would give it a D-minus."

"Oh? Why"

"Because of prisons overflowing with people, the overwhelming majority of which are minorities and are there because of small drug convictions. Mandatory drug sentencing. A horrible appeals process. Prisons-for-profit..." He cut me off here, thanking me.

I did (and do) believe what I said and assumed saying it would go in favor of getting me released.

As time went on, more and more people were released and I kept staying where I was: In the juror's box. I am continually surprised by how candid these people are. Public speaking is usually rated as the #1 fear most people have (death being 4th or 5th). I'm amazed at the eloquence and frankness of these random people. Feelings of pride rise. I eat more peanuts.

After the question-asking period, one-by-one, both sides dismiss people for no reason. These are called peremptory challenges. In this way, the prosecution and defense kept dismissing people until there were thirteen of us left. The thirteen that would site as jurors on the trail. (But only twelve sit on a grand jury, you think. Ah ha! It's a mystery to be solved at a later time).

We were given "Juror" badges to put on our shirts and told, in no uncertain terms, "You cannot speak about the details of the trial with anyone until it's over--not your fellow jurors, spouses, children, or friends. The people in this building will see your badges, which you are required to wear anytime you are in the courthouse, and will only speak to you as little as is necessary. The people related to this case will not make eye-contact with you, let alone speak to you. This to protect you from making decisions not based on the facts of the case and for them to avoid even the appearance of impropriety."

We jurors are told to convene in the juror's quarters (a small room at the back of the courthouse that (true) no one except the bailiff and us are allowed to enter at any time during the trial) and to push a button when we are all there.

11:45-12:30PM - Afternoon (lunch) Recess
The court goes on hold while everyone goes and gets lunch and tells their significant others that they, in fact, will not be getting out early as they have been selected. Much sighing.

12:30
We all gather in the juror's quarters. Someone pushes the button on the wall when we've all arrived. The balliff pops her head in and says, "Follow me and be sure to sit in the box, don't stand."

We walk into the room. Everyone is standing. We head to our box and sit. Then, and only then the bailiff says, "Please be seated." Everyone sits. We move into "Opening statements."

Immediately, the prosecutor (a lithe and intimidating woman from the district attorney's office) stands before us and launches into a dramatic description of the crime (a drug charge). She waves her arms around and speaks with inflection. She makes claims about evidence and burden of proof and blah blah blah.

The neckless defense guy does the same thing, except in reverse. This man has the unfortunate goal of defending a guy who doesn't really seem to want to be defended (more on this later).

Then the real trial opens. The prosecution has the burden of proof, so they go first.

She calls her first witness, an undercover cop...

More to follow.

Email update

I am trying to update the blog by emaing it the entry. Hopefully this
works.

I am currently in a Macys Mens Store (I didn't know it existed either).

Hope this works.

-Matt Fox
system engineer
303.883.8339
(Sent from a mobile device)

Obama / McCain

(Editor: Going back through old unposted drafts. To hell with the consequences. I found this post from right around the elections. I don't know why I didn't post it, other than being concerned about the feeling of others. AHHH HAHAHA! Silly, naive Matt.)

Original Draft: 11/5/2008
McCain's concession speech was great. I derived personal satisfaction from it not only because he lost the race, but that he spent the last eight months solidly attacking Obama only to say, on the night of his loss, that he, "...had the honor of calling Senator Barrack Obama to congratulate him." Considering the vitriol of his ads, equating Obama with terrorism, pointing out how unqualified he is, and that he'll essentially climb into everyone's home, night by night, and eat their children, shouldn't he have spent his last few minutes of national attention ranting and foaming at the mouth that we're going to hell? If he actually believed the tripe he has been spewing (and we've all had to endure) these past several months, why didn't he remind us, one last time, that Obama once served on the same committee as Ari Flitcher or that he is an "elitist"? Was that all just politicking or did he really hold the same opinions as his attack ads?

In the end, who cares? He lost.

Epilogue (9 months later)
Turns out I was right. Big surprise there. Considering the things that he is still saying about every policy the current administration, I think the acceptance speech was the one and only time he ever said anything positive about Obama, other than as a back-handed compliment or when they both agree on the same issue.

Ween - The Mollusk

Hot was the summer of '02. Especially the end of June, leading to the 4th of July weekend. A party hadn't been planned, they never really were. Chad and I had bought some meat at Meijer and some beer at the International Beer Store (or IBS, the same acronym as Irritable Bowel Syndrome... no coincidence). We had a geek-gathering planned for the next day. People would show up, hook their computers together, and stink. Beer would be drunk, music would be played, and Kleiner-1-Niner would kill us over and over. The night before, we thought, let's get set up for the party. Invite some people over, grill, and drink some beer.

Mandy showed up sometime late-afternoon. We had vacuumed and cleaned the empty pizza-boxes off the floor. This equates to the closest thing to cleaning we did, and we were damn proud of ourselves. So proud, in fact, we felt we deserved a beer. Sitting on the back porch, Djarum in one hand, a beer in the other, we looked out over Scum Lake and pondered the meaning of it all.

The 4th of July is the central point of the summer, the great climax and the greatest expression of pure summer-abandon. College was in full-swing. I was living with three other guys in a run-down house, working full time at a well paying job, and dating my future wife. Our pet cat Jabba hadn't grow sour on our collective insanity, and would still occasionally pop in and nibble on our scraps. These were the glory days. A time that seemed to last forever, yet, in retrospect, was only a period of about eighteen months. Life's possibilities rolled out before all of us, and we knew, simply knew, that we had to reach out an grab them. The first year anniversary of 9/11 still hadn't happened, and we were all reeling in the changes wracking the world around us. It was a time of change on every level, and in the center of that maelstrom of chaos, insanity, and fun sat a simple, unassuming house.

Camelot.

Say the name to anyone who lived through that period, and they will inevitably do two things: Smile and shake their heads. Next, they will say, "Remember when...?" And will tell the story of Tyler almost blew himself up with a roman candle, or the time we had 20+ people on the phenomenally dangerous deck rocking it back forth to see if they could get it collapse, or the time two here-unnamed people went across Scum Lake with arm-fulls of Class B fireworks, lightening them off in a mall parking lot until the entire neighborhood was crawling with cops.

So, in many ways, that weekend was much like any other. People, both invited and not, began to arrive as the air cooled slightly. Somehow the grill was lit, a half keg appeared at one point, and music began to play through any number of the sound systems that filled every corner of the house. I would be playing groove salad in my room, where the pot-heads would inevitably crash on the king-sized water bed. Dan would play a scratchy vinyl record he found at a flee market called "28 Truckin' Classics". Chad would burn crazy mix CDs and put them in the various boombox-style CD players throughout the house. All of this would blend with the various conversations, laughter, and occasional breaking of something expensive-sounding.

That night, through cacophony of noise, I heard a few small bits of music that caught my ear. Somehow I associated the music with this skinny dude wandering around talking to Chad and friends. I said hi and he eagerly responded, "Hey! How're you?" I think I wondered off. This happens often at parties. You meet people you're supposed to know, but due to the excitement or drinking or something, you can't place them.

Mandy and I woke the next morning on the downstairs couch. Dan, even taller than me, was crumpled up on love-seat completely covered by a blanket. The sliding door was wide open, and outside I could see Scum Lake sparkling. Today was the LAN party. All of our careful preparation from the day before had been laid to waste by the party held to celebrate the preparation.

Mandy and I went upstairs. Chad was making eggs and toast. He made us some and we sat on the deck discussing the night before.

"Who was that skinny guy last night? He looked really familiar." I asked.

Mandy said, "That was Andy. You've met him, like, ten times."

Chad, "Yeah. Andy. I've known him for years."

Me, "Andy?"

Chad/Mandy, "Sigh..."

"Ah, right. Andy."

Chad, "Did you hear the CD he brought? It's really good."

"I think so. I caught a little of it."

Chad, "There's this one song, it's an instrumental. Mid-way through, it sounds like you."

"Sounds like me?"

"Yeah. It sounds like you, groaning."

"Ahhh... what?"

"Here. Listen to the album."

I couldn't immediatly tell whether the band was suppossed to be humorous, dark, rock, or folk. I found myself laughing, kind of, and looking around to see if anyone was seeing me enjoy it. The experience was akin to listening to Zappa for the first time. You keep asking yourself, "Am I suppossed to be laughing at this?"

The key to Ween lies with the understanding that there isn't anything to get. The confusion, the humor, and strangeness is the point. Once I stopped trying to disect it and just listen and enjoy, I fell in love. A deep, musical love I've only felt with three or four bands. Experiencing Ween, obviously, is difficult to sum up in words. It's very challenging music, but the reward more than compensates for the effort.

If you haven't listened to Ween, or you've only heard the one or two singles that used to be played endlessly on MTV ('Push the Lil Dasies" or "Voodoo Lady") go out and buy / download The Mullusk and listen to it. Try not to figure it out. Turn off your brain and let them take you down the brown road, where mutilated lips, whales with pokadot tails, drunken Irishmen scream about cracking in your head. It's worth it.

Getting it all done

(Editor's Note: This was written before Matt left on a two week business trip, so the day ranges, etc, are not accurate.)

Over the past few days, we have made incredible progress solving (and creating) little puzzles around the new homestead. Solving these little problems is the greatest emotional reward I have experienced as a humble homeowners thus far. The process combines thinking in new and exiting ways, listening to people who know more than you, and doing enough research to not solve yourself into a corner.

As part of their yearly Harley Davidson US circuit, Mandy's parents have come out for a two-week visit to rest and relax. Of course, by rest and relax, I mean working 8 - 10 hours per day helping us get our shit in order.

Over the past seven days, we have accomplished the following items (this list is not exhaustive):

1. Purchase and plants several flowers and grasses
2. Plan out the backyard patio, dog run, privacy and chain link fences
3. Extend sewer vent to roof
4. Clean gutters
5. Repair gutters
6. Replace or repair swamp cooler parts (descale interior, paint and seal basin and siding, install new media (evaporative stuffing), replace drive belt / axle / bearings, clean pump, install new filter basket
7. Paint clock face
8. Flatten flower bed
9. Lay new bricks for walkway
10. Repair lawn mower
11. Purchase "little giant" ladder system
12. Repair buckled bead board in basement and staircase
13. Install 4 in-ceiling speakers, 2 RCA breakout plates, 1 8-connector speaker cables breakout box
14. Install 3 new electrical plugs, three lighting fixtures, new circuit breaker in box
15. Install bathroom vent fan and ductwork
16. Repair shower swinging door water sweep
17. Hang curtains
18. Laid concrete (150sq/ft(
19. Built two gates, a privacy fence, and 30 foot chainlink fence
20. Poured in 4 tons of pea gravel
21. Built shelter for lawn mower, more bricking
22+. Many other items I am missing

Back in November, we put up two posts as a walk through of the home in it's viginal state. Now that we've sacked, razed, and rebuilt pretty much everything, we've created another quick walkthrough that shows some of the changes. Enjoy!

2008 - Top Ten

I finally finished my collection of the top ten songs created in 2008. It is almost the 4th quarter of 2009, I know, but I enjoy making finishing these collection for the same reason I occasionally update this blog: To act as a kind of diary. Placeholders are important when looking back on events passed. Without these bookmarks, the years (music, stories, events) blur and become something difficult to parse, and since there is no working form of grep for the mind, I'll have to use these blogging and audio mastering tools to help collect and organize my history.

I'm not going to distribute this collection, except to people who ask for it. The year is long over and everyone (myself included) has moved on to new music. I'm definitely going to try to get the 2009 collection done by the December holiday season, so I can I can send it out and help spread my own personal form of holiday cheer to friends and enemies alike.

For those are interested (but not interested enough to ask for a mix), here are the songs in no particular order.

(Artist | Album | Track)

TV on the Radio | Dear Science | Crying

Flight of the Conchords |[self-titled] | Think About It

Vampire Weekend |[self-titled] |M79

Beck | Modern Guilt | Walls

David Bryne & Brian Eno | Everything That Happens, Will Happen Today | Strange Overtones

Kanye West | 808s and Heartbreaks | Welcome to Heartbreak

The Black Keys | Attack & Release | Psychotic Girl

Gnarls Barkley | The Odd Couple | Who's Gonna Save My Soul?

Dodos | The Visiter | Red and Purple

Sigur Ros | Med Sud I... | Gobbledigook

Hot Chip | Made in the Dark | Ready for the Floor

(Ok... so there are 11 songs... it was a good year!)

Here's the introduction to the mix for your listening pleasure (no video).

A mile high

I am finally back in Denver after what seemed like the longest trip of my 2-year stint with Global. This install is overwhelmingly complex, making problems both fun to solve and mind-shatteringly annoying. At least the video chain isn't as complicated as some other installs (CAS), so it doesn't require a person starting over from the beginning with every single issue. I think the difference with this system, as opposed to the more common setups, is how wide the breadth of ad-ons are. There are so many different ways to use the system that we (and even the client) have no idea where to begin. This makes troubleshooting a bitch. A bitch with iron stiletto shoes trampling the balls of truth, or something.

The other unbelievably taxing aspect of this particular site is its being situated in central Texas. Next to an Army base. In August. To paraphrase Matt Daemon in "Syriana" describing the heat in the Arabian desert as akin to walking into a physical wall. It's an object you slam into. It is that hot. So, everywhere I walked, everyplace I entered, my body experienced the switch from 100+ (80% humidity) to dry, 70 degree A/C. If the heat is like running into a wall, the A/C was like having my lungs tore from my chest and dry-cleaned. The simple act of experiencing these temperature changes, really exhausted me. I felt perpetually out-of-sorts because of it.

Now that I am back in Denver (for a few days), I am really looking forward to coolish evenings and the simple joy of going to sleep before 2AM after working 14 hour shifts.

"I pay two hundred dollar for this!"

I am sea-sick sailor on a ship of noise, got my masts all backwards and my instincts poised, in a truth-blow gutter full of wasted years like blown-out speakers ringing in my ears... -Beck Hansen

Facebook Status Arguments

What is the deal with getting in arguments about people's status messages on Facebook? I've chanced to see someone post, "Prez obama sucks!" receive thirty+ responses. These responses range from, "right on" to "I don't think you have considered all of the facts when making such an odious and ill-informed statement, sir." In either case, they are still responding to what amounts to a grammatically-terrifying drunken shout in a bar. I don't think it these statements (if one can be so generous to call them that) need to be debated, because there is nothing inherently debatable about them.

It seems, at first glance, there would be better forums for this type of rancorous debate, but maybe not. I think what confuses me most about the debates, or "firestorms" these statements evoke is how people, who one would assume know each other (it is Facebook, after all) can seemingly get away with the things they say that would normally require a good boot to the head if said in the real world.

People have often argued the reason people are such assholes online, and not in physical interactions with other humans is due to the perceived sense of anonymity. This kind of reasoning isn't without flaws (IE if people think they are in any way anonymous online, not only are they naive, but a good case could be made that they must suffer from some form of brain damage) but the whole idea of Facebook is to remove anonymity. The goal is to let people know who you are so they can seek you out and communicate directly with you. So, how do they get away with calling their wives a bitch or blatently disrespecting friends and family without any consideration of the consequences? It's a strange phenomenon.

The Head

(What have you done with her body?!?)

Like I need another reason for people to think I'm crazy....

We have been looking for months for a new buddy for Nikki and last week I came across the cutest 5 month old puppy on Craigslist and I decided to pick it up. The crazy part comes in when people find out that it is a Dalmatian puppy!!!

And her name shall be Tiny Enid...

Matt got me listening to this crazy podcast called Hooting Yard. There was a story that I really enjoyed that revolved around this character named Tiny Enid, thus our new pups name. If you want to read the story you can check it out here.


Nikki and Enid are getting along fabulously. I will leave you with a short video of them playing.