Last Saturday Roverine and I went on a fossil hunting excursion in Swatara State Park. I have vague memories of visiting the park's fossil pit in Elementary School. It was an exciting time. The pit, back then, was more of a low cliff, the face being made up of sedimentary rock. The rock was compacted in thin layers and with the help of a hammer and chisel could be pulled out, almost like books stacked vertically. With those memories fresh in my mind I was bitterly disappointed when we arrived to find not a cliff of rock, but a hill of broken stones. It was then that I realized that Elementary School had in fact been 20 years ago. That moment of clarity didn't help my mood any.
Regardless of my disappointment, I pounced on the pile of rocks in earnest. Underneath the loose rubble there actually was a layer of rock that I chipped away at. I proudly proclaimed to Roverine that I was perhaps only minutes away from finding the fossilized iPod that would turn decades of scientific theory on its ear. Maybe I shouldn't have boasted too loudly. Roverine soon found some plant remains. I found a baseball sized portion of mud. Roverine found a tiny impression of a spine and ribs. I found a small rock. Roverine found a shell. I discovered a whole new type of rage. Science was having its revenge for my boasting, and it was doing quite the job. Demoralizing me in front of my wife wasn't enough for Science, not enough by far. It was only a matter of minutes before an entire troop of Boy Scouts arrived, climbed about the pile like little monkeys, and began to announce discovery, after discovery, after discovery. Their troop leader came over to tell Roverine and I about the fossils he found last year that had been analyzed by the Reading Museum. I wanted to make him a fossil. I still hadn't found bupkis!
I began to wonder about Science. My iPod joke hadn't been that offensive. In fact I thought it was quite witty. Did that one joke warrant the misery that I was now living with? I thought not, but then thought again. Maybe it wasn't that one joke. Maybe this was the culminated revenge for the years of mockery I have put Science through. Maybe Science remembered the time I set fire to the sink in 10th grade Biology, or the time we removed the handles from all of the gas valves in the lab, rendering them useless. Maybe it had something to do with setting off the emergency shower in 12th grade Chemistry, citing "Chemistry sucks" as my sole justification. I certainly hoped that Science had forgotten about my eloquent treatise arguing that the scientific explanation for the origin of life fell apart when examined under the rules of scientific method itself. With horrific clarity the picture became clear to me. Through years of thoughtless mockery and ballyhoo I had established a pattern of contempt for Science. It wasn't intentional, but with that realization I came to one conclusion. Science hates me.
So there I sat, perched on top a pile of fossil bearing stones without one fossil to show for myself. Why? Because Science was having his revenge. Others around me gloried in ferns and shells and trilobites while my bag sat empty. It was now obvious that I would be making no discoveries today. In humility I gathered up Roverine and headed off to photograph the scenery, that seemed relatively secure from the scorn of Science.
I'm at a loss for what to do about Science these days. Initially I thought I would just go with it and continue to antagonize (referring to Darwin as a "ragamuffin island hopper" came to mind), but I now realize that that might not be such a good idea. As it stands I hold no hope of ever finding a fossil again, and I can live with that, but what if I push things further? Can I live with a meteor in my house? I think not. Science and I have settled into an uneasy truce. I will no longer find fossils and Science will let me live. At that's how things will stand. Until I think of something very witty to say, in which case it was nice to know all of you.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Monday, November 06, 2006
As It Turns Out, I'm Not Perfect.
I made a mistake at work tonight. It wasn't a little, "Oops! I spelled Saskatchewan wrong." mistake either. The consequences of my mistake could have put several of us into a very delicate situation. Fortunately, someone at another agency also made a mistake (I'm being generous there because it was more of a deliberate act of sloth). I was forced to take action in response to their mistake, and that action rendered the consequences of my mistake to be void, or at least significantly diminished. In the end I was very fortunate, but not off of the hot seat. I hate to make mistakes. They make me very angry with my self, and I wish that I could pretend that they never happened. At the same time I have a personal policy of always owning my mistakes. I think its what a person of integrity and faith does and I also think that it makes me a more trustworthy person. I have a coworker who never owns any mistakes and the result is that no one believes a word he says. So back to tonight, in the end I could have let things go. Several people knew that something had happened, but if I told them not to worry about it they wouldn't ask any questions, and I love them for that. Because I love them I told them the truth, and they were incredibly gracious about it. They were actually more upset about the deliberate act of sloth (sorry, "mistake") that followed. Somehow though I didn't feel any better. Tonight was a close as I get to "big time screw up," and although no perceived damage was done, I felt damaged. I pride myself on speed and accuracy, and I failed on both counts. That really bothered me. Thankfully I had the time to retreat into a good book for a bit before I had to get back into things. That helped. I eventually blew off a post-work social event (and it was a good one) and went home. For the rest of the night I felt as if my credibility had been ruined and I just wanted to get out of there. Anyway, I suppose I will feel better in the morning and I will get a fresh shot at making a mess of things then. For now I'm headed back into that good book.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Since Proteinstar Begged For It.
Here is a new post. I find it ironic that a man who goes months without posting feels free to criticize me after a matter of days, but whatever.
Some of you might remember that last fall I was excited about a new racing series called A1GP, but lost interest due to a difficult TV viewing schedule and lackluster performances by the U.S. Team. The basic premise of the series is that Formula One and the Olympics had a night of poor judgment resulting in a child, A1GP. The series is held over the winter months on circuits around the world, similar to F1. The teams represent nations, rather that multi-million dollar corporations. The principal team member must be from the country the team represents. It is actually a pretty cool concept, but like I said, TV coverage here in the states was poor and the U.S. Team wasn't exactly awesome. The cars are not the wonders of technology that F1 cars are either. However, this year I am determined to give A1GP another shot. I'm beginning to see the beauty of the series. The drivers are either F1 hopefuls or has beens and the cars lack the downforce of their more famous cousins. This makes for some very interesting racing. A1GP also webcasts their races and has signed a contract with Speed TV for U.S. coverage. To add to my excitement the are also in negotiations to have a seasoning opening street race in Washington DC next September. That would be a must attend event. Here's some Youtube highlights from last season if your are interested.
Some of you might remember that last fall I was excited about a new racing series called A1GP, but lost interest due to a difficult TV viewing schedule and lackluster performances by the U.S. Team. The basic premise of the series is that Formula One and the Olympics had a night of poor judgment resulting in a child, A1GP. The series is held over the winter months on circuits around the world, similar to F1. The teams represent nations, rather that multi-million dollar corporations. The principal team member must be from the country the team represents. It is actually a pretty cool concept, but like I said, TV coverage here in the states was poor and the U.S. Team wasn't exactly awesome. The cars are not the wonders of technology that F1 cars are either. However, this year I am determined to give A1GP another shot. I'm beginning to see the beauty of the series. The drivers are either F1 hopefuls or has beens and the cars lack the downforce of their more famous cousins. This makes for some very interesting racing. A1GP also webcasts their races and has signed a contract with Speed TV for U.S. coverage. To add to my excitement the are also in negotiations to have a seasoning opening street race in Washington DC next September. That would be a must attend event. Here's some Youtube highlights from last season if your are interested.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Wahooo!!
After a long absence, Superswede appears to have returned yet again! You come and go more than Michael Jordan buddy, but you are always welcome here. I understand that you are currently in a bit of a difficult spot, and I'm not referring to your upcoming wedding. I hope things improve for you, but I hope that this means we will be seeing more of you around here for now.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Goodbye Old Friend
On Sunday, Michael Schumacher raced in the final Grand Prix of his glittering career. Last week I envisioned that this post would go along the lines of "Michael won!" or perhaps "Quick, but not quick enough." I would have then followed with an eloquent summation of the most astounding career the sport has ever seen. I even would have given a nod to some of the darker moments over the year, and believe me there were dark moments. Instead, Michael has forced my hand.
Schumi's championship prospects going into this weekend were bleak at best. If he were to claim his eighth World Driver's Championship he would have to win the upcoming Brazilian Grand Prix. That in itself wasn't all that daunting, Michael has won over ninety Grands Prix. What was daunting was that Michael's rival, Fernando Alonso would need to fail to score a single point, meaning he would have to finish the race below eighth place, or not finish at all. Alonso makes it a habit of finishing races, and a practice of finishing them in the top three. As if things weren't tough enough for Michael, his Ferrari developed a fuel pickup problem in Saturday Qualifying that left him starting the race from tenth. Michael had never won a race from tenth, although he had won one from sixteenth.
Regardless, the flag dropped on Sunday afternoon and Michael bolted to the front of the field. In four laps he moved from tenth to fifth. It look as if a miracle were about to happen. Then disaster struck, Michael dove around the Renault of Giancarlo Fisichella, but misjudged slightly. His left rear tire nicked Fisichella's front wing. The contact was enough to puncture the tire. Michael limped back to the pits and rejoined the race in twentieth, dead last. There was a fifteen second gap from Michael to the next car, and a seventy second gap to the race leader. Then the miracle occurred. Michael put the hammer down. Over the next ninety minutes fan were treated to one of the greatest displays of driving ever seen. Michael passed over ten cars on the track, and a number more through speedy pit work. Critics of F1 lament the lack of on track overtaking, but they sat silent on Sunday as Michael downed rival after rival. His final pass of the day was against the McLaren of Kimi Raikkonen, "The Flying Finn." Raikkonen blocked Michael to the inside, but Michael squeezed in, dangerously close to the wall. As the two entered turn1 they were so close together that even the daylight between their tyres was getting nervous. Eventually Michael squeezed ahead to take fourth. He didn't win the race, but his status as the most talented driver in the sport will never be questioned. That seventy second gap I mentioned was reduced to less than thirty at the chequered flag. Michael's teammate, Felipe Massa, went on to win the race. In doing so he became the first Brazilian to win his home Grand Prix since the late Ayrton Senna did so thirteen years ago.
To fully understand the brilliance of Michael's drive we need to compare his lap times with those of his teammate. It is generally accepted in F1 that a team's two drivers will receive nearly identical cars, some changes are made to suit driver preference. Before the race on Sunday both Michael and Felipe were given permission to push the engines on their Ferrari 248 F1 racing cars to beyond 20,000rpms in an attempt to secure the Driver and Constructors World Championships. They failed in that attempt, but they did set some very fast lap times. Just before his final pit stop, the point at which a Formula One car is at its lightest and fastest, Felipe Massa set a single lap time of 1:12.3. Just after his last pit stop, the point at which an F1 car is at its heaviest and slowest, Michael set a single lap time of 1:12.1, the fastest of the race. The man is just fast. In case you don't believe me yourselves, please check out the lovely YouTube tidbit below. Especially enjoy the last pass over Raikkonen.
Brazilian Grand Prix Highlights
I will regale you with tales of his brilliant career some other time.
Schumi's championship prospects going into this weekend were bleak at best. If he were to claim his eighth World Driver's Championship he would have to win the upcoming Brazilian Grand Prix. That in itself wasn't all that daunting, Michael has won over ninety Grands Prix. What was daunting was that Michael's rival, Fernando Alonso would need to fail to score a single point, meaning he would have to finish the race below eighth place, or not finish at all. Alonso makes it a habit of finishing races, and a practice of finishing them in the top three. As if things weren't tough enough for Michael, his Ferrari developed a fuel pickup problem in Saturday Qualifying that left him starting the race from tenth. Michael had never won a race from tenth, although he had won one from sixteenth.
Regardless, the flag dropped on Sunday afternoon and Michael bolted to the front of the field. In four laps he moved from tenth to fifth. It look as if a miracle were about to happen. Then disaster struck, Michael dove around the Renault of Giancarlo Fisichella, but misjudged slightly. His left rear tire nicked Fisichella's front wing. The contact was enough to puncture the tire. Michael limped back to the pits and rejoined the race in twentieth, dead last. There was a fifteen second gap from Michael to the next car, and a seventy second gap to the race leader. Then the miracle occurred. Michael put the hammer down. Over the next ninety minutes fan were treated to one of the greatest displays of driving ever seen. Michael passed over ten cars on the track, and a number more through speedy pit work. Critics of F1 lament the lack of on track overtaking, but they sat silent on Sunday as Michael downed rival after rival. His final pass of the day was against the McLaren of Kimi Raikkonen, "The Flying Finn." Raikkonen blocked Michael to the inside, but Michael squeezed in, dangerously close to the wall. As the two entered turn1 they were so close together that even the daylight between their tyres was getting nervous. Eventually Michael squeezed ahead to take fourth. He didn't win the race, but his status as the most talented driver in the sport will never be questioned. That seventy second gap I mentioned was reduced to less than thirty at the chequered flag. Michael's teammate, Felipe Massa, went on to win the race. In doing so he became the first Brazilian to win his home Grand Prix since the late Ayrton Senna did so thirteen years ago.
To fully understand the brilliance of Michael's drive we need to compare his lap times with those of his teammate. It is generally accepted in F1 that a team's two drivers will receive nearly identical cars, some changes are made to suit driver preference. Before the race on Sunday both Michael and Felipe were given permission to push the engines on their Ferrari 248 F1 racing cars to beyond 20,000rpms in an attempt to secure the Driver and Constructors World Championships. They failed in that attempt, but they did set some very fast lap times. Just before his final pit stop, the point at which a Formula One car is at its lightest and fastest, Felipe Massa set a single lap time of 1:12.3. Just after his last pit stop, the point at which an F1 car is at its heaviest and slowest, Michael set a single lap time of 1:12.1, the fastest of the race. The man is just fast. In case you don't believe me yourselves, please check out the lovely YouTube tidbit below. Especially enjoy the last pass over Raikkonen.
Brazilian Grand Prix Highlights
I will regale you with tales of his brilliant career some other time.
Friday, October 20, 2006
"It is nothing to die; it is frightful not to live."
Moments ago I finished Victor Hugo's epic Les Miserables. I'm a bit at a loss for what to say about it. Several months ago I attempted to read the complete, unabridged, version and got lost. This time around I inadvertently got ahold of the abridged version. The shortened text probably accounts for why I got through it so easily, but I can't help but feel somehow cheated. Despite being familiar with the plot thanks to Broadway and Hollywood my first attempt was tainted by a modern intolerance for any content that didn't advance the story line. That was a mistake. I guess that the pre-YouTube world was more into savoring things. The richness of the full text was more easily enjoyed when Lost wasn't on at 9. That said. I finished the book, all 600 pages, and felt myself looking for more. It wasn't that the story was incomplete, I just didn't want it to end. Hugo is one of the finest story tellers I have ever encountered. The work connects with the soul on several levels. Readers who approach it looking for the revolutionary feel they got from the Broadway show will be disappointed. It was revolutionary in its day, but only those very familiar with French history will grasp it's full political implication. Today I feel that it is so much more about redemption and integrity. I think we often view our lives as being effected by crucial moments in time, which they are, but Les Miserables shows that our actions in those moments are defined by the constant dedication to our moral values on a daily basis.
As far as the characters go I felt that Jean Valjean was perfect. Hugo beautifully depicted the sinner struggling with his past sins in light of his current salvation. Just perfect. Javert was both admirable and despicable at the same time. I was contorted over him until the end. Thernardier was disgusting, yet completely believable. I found myself wondering if there wasn't a real life person somewhere behind Hugo's character. My disappointment came with Cosette and Marius. I found Cosette to be spoiled, and if we were expected to love her, incredibly underdeveloped as a character (granted, I did read the short version). As a child she is heart wrenching, but almost immediately after her rescue I lost all sympathy for her. If I were Marius I would have chosen Eponine. She came across as a much more genuine and giving person, especially when you consider the parenting she received. As for Marius? What an ungrateful prat. Jean Valjean gives him his child and his fortune and Marius can't wait to show him the door. Only when he finds out what Jean Valjean has done for him personally does he accept him. I guess rescuing the love of your life from slavery and then raising her as his own wasn't enough, eh?
In short, I was enraptured by Les Miserables. After a short visit with Augustine, Steinbeck, and who knows who else, I think I might be ready to savor Hugo's masterpiece as it was intended.
Also, please celebrate in this post as it marks my 100th.
As far as the characters go I felt that Jean Valjean was perfect. Hugo beautifully depicted the sinner struggling with his past sins in light of his current salvation. Just perfect. Javert was both admirable and despicable at the same time. I was contorted over him until the end. Thernardier was disgusting, yet completely believable. I found myself wondering if there wasn't a real life person somewhere behind Hugo's character. My disappointment came with Cosette and Marius. I found Cosette to be spoiled, and if we were expected to love her, incredibly underdeveloped as a character (granted, I did read the short version). As a child she is heart wrenching, but almost immediately after her rescue I lost all sympathy for her. If I were Marius I would have chosen Eponine. She came across as a much more genuine and giving person, especially when you consider the parenting she received. As for Marius? What an ungrateful prat. Jean Valjean gives him his child and his fortune and Marius can't wait to show him the door. Only when he finds out what Jean Valjean has done for him personally does he accept him. I guess rescuing the love of your life from slavery and then raising her as his own wasn't enough, eh?
In short, I was enraptured by Les Miserables. After a short visit with Augustine, Steinbeck, and who knows who else, I think I might be ready to savor Hugo's masterpiece as it was intended.
Also, please celebrate in this post as it marks my 100th.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Discovering My Hometown
Back when it was warmer out Roverine and I took a walk around town and took some pictures. While parts of the area are aptly described as "ghetto," there are some interesting buildings and other points of interest about. Here you go.
The home of a local celebrity.
Perhaps the most famous business in town. Great old building.
Never ate there, no plans to.
Maybe he's been advertising in the wrong places.
No, it didn't stop for the sign.
The train station.
And some more of that.
Like I said, "Ghetto."
The home of a local celebrity.
Perhaps the most famous business in town. Great old building.
Never ate there, no plans to.
Maybe he's been advertising in the wrong places.
No, it didn't stop for the sign.
The train station.
And some more of that.
Like I said, "Ghetto."
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Use My Word!
Several years ago, never mind how many exactly, I was engrossed with the completion of a certain academic treatise. The completion of said work had me somewhat down in spirits because I felt that I lacked the proper terminology to fully describe the chaos that surrounded the Diet of Augsburg (1530). For those of you who aren't familiar with the event, it was billed as the ultimate showdown between Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor, and Martin Luther, the indefatigable Bull of Wittenberg. The insane chaos that preceded Luther's arrival could best be compared to, but was probably far in excess of, a national political convention today. While official condemnation of Luther rang throughout the streets, secret messengers scurried back and forth in a final effort to avoid the inevitable showdown. Back room deals became commonplace. Bishops acted as pages. For a moment, the world was turned on its ear. All of this before the man of the hour, Martin Luther, even set foot into the town.
The excitement of the event is hard to deny, and cannot be ignored when addressing the life of Luther. However my friends, how was I to describe this vast spectacle within the confines of a collegiate work that was more concerned with the person of Luther than with the events that surrounded him? In the end I came to one conclusion. Necessity is the mother of invention. I created my own word.
Polympics- The chaotic jockeying for power and position that accompanies a political event.
The word suited my needs perfectly and allowed that portion of my work to be succinct, yet descriptive. After its initial usage I filed my word away in my mind, having no more apparent need for it. However, after dining with Roverine, Brechty, and Gen last night I have been convinced to share my word with the world. I have made it my goal to ensure my word's inclusion in Webster's Dictionary. I cannot achieve this goal on my own though. I need your help. Use my word! Make it popular! My argument for inclusion will be that much stronger if my word is in common usage (isn't that the Scrabble requirement?). If I succeed we can have a party or something.
The excitement of the event is hard to deny, and cannot be ignored when addressing the life of Luther. However my friends, how was I to describe this vast spectacle within the confines of a collegiate work that was more concerned with the person of Luther than with the events that surrounded him? In the end I came to one conclusion. Necessity is the mother of invention. I created my own word.
Polympics- The chaotic jockeying for power and position that accompanies a political event.
The word suited my needs perfectly and allowed that portion of my work to be succinct, yet descriptive. After its initial usage I filed my word away in my mind, having no more apparent need for it. However, after dining with Roverine, Brechty, and Gen last night I have been convinced to share my word with the world. I have made it my goal to ensure my word's inclusion in Webster's Dictionary. I cannot achieve this goal on my own though. I need your help. Use my word! Make it popular! My argument for inclusion will be that much stronger if my word is in common usage (isn't that the Scrabble requirement?). If I succeed we can have a party or something.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
What Is The Point?
The BETA swtich seems to have worked.
I was going to use my blogging time today to bless you with the latest feats of Michael Schumacher. Last week he won the Chinese Grand Prix despite trailing the leaders by over 25 seconds at one time. The old man's still got it. Today he was leading the Japanese Grand Prix when his Ferrari engine exploded. That marks Michael's first engine failure since 2000. Alas, without an engine he didn't finish the race, and without the points from the race he is all but eliminated from the World Championship. I will keep you posted.
Now on to my real topic.
Roverine and I went to church this morning. That in itself isn't unusual. What was unusual was the service. It was very focused on the Amish school shootings. Disturbingly focused. I can only compare it to services I attended after 9/11. Not only did the whole service seem like overkill, it was poorly executed overkill. Early on, all of the small children were brought to the front of the church and lined up for everyone to see. The pastor then said, in his most tormented voice, "Look at them. These are the ones that Jesus loves." I couldn't help but think, "So the rest of us are screwed?" After the service Roverine expressed a similar response. We were then subjected to a sermon pleading with us to do more for the children. The service ended with a responsive reading where the leader would read a phrase something like this, "There is violence in the world. What should we do?" Everyone would respond with, "We will do what the Amish do," followed by some bleeding heart mushy talk like "Build a barn of love. Build a barn of peace." or "Plow the fields of forgiveness." It was the intellectual equivalent of vomit. "Build a barn of love." What does that even mean?
Returning to my post title, what is the point? Why even put the effort into a service that addresses a topic that doesn't relate to the lives of your congregation, and then further alienates those attending by throwing out empty catch phrases and attempting to make them feel guilty for something they played no role in? I honestly think that, outside of the scripture reading, the only time Jesus was mentioned was when they told us how much he loved the children (but apparently not the rest of us). There was a brief respite from the onslaught when the service briefly changed topic to guilt us for not giving enough in offering (a subject that is popping up with alarming frequency). Why would I give money to support a religion that only loves children? I don't even have children!
Honestly I should be more forgiving. The church is going through a transitional period right now, and the service is normally better. It just bothers me when a service is so far from the point that it renders itself pointless. It also bothers me to see effort and potential so wasted. In response I have already made efforts to get more involved. You can't really gripe if you offer no input, right?
I was going to use my blogging time today to bless you with the latest feats of Michael Schumacher. Last week he won the Chinese Grand Prix despite trailing the leaders by over 25 seconds at one time. The old man's still got it. Today he was leading the Japanese Grand Prix when his Ferrari engine exploded. That marks Michael's first engine failure since 2000. Alas, without an engine he didn't finish the race, and without the points from the race he is all but eliminated from the World Championship. I will keep you posted.
Now on to my real topic.
Roverine and I went to church this morning. That in itself isn't unusual. What was unusual was the service. It was very focused on the Amish school shootings. Disturbingly focused. I can only compare it to services I attended after 9/11. Not only did the whole service seem like overkill, it was poorly executed overkill. Early on, all of the small children were brought to the front of the church and lined up for everyone to see. The pastor then said, in his most tormented voice, "Look at them. These are the ones that Jesus loves." I couldn't help but think, "So the rest of us are screwed?" After the service Roverine expressed a similar response. We were then subjected to a sermon pleading with us to do more for the children. The service ended with a responsive reading where the leader would read a phrase something like this, "There is violence in the world. What should we do?" Everyone would respond with, "We will do what the Amish do," followed by some bleeding heart mushy talk like "Build a barn of love. Build a barn of peace." or "Plow the fields of forgiveness." It was the intellectual equivalent of vomit. "Build a barn of love." What does that even mean?
Returning to my post title, what is the point? Why even put the effort into a service that addresses a topic that doesn't relate to the lives of your congregation, and then further alienates those attending by throwing out empty catch phrases and attempting to make them feel guilty for something they played no role in? I honestly think that, outside of the scripture reading, the only time Jesus was mentioned was when they told us how much he loved the children (but apparently not the rest of us). There was a brief respite from the onslaught when the service briefly changed topic to guilt us for not giving enough in offering (a subject that is popping up with alarming frequency). Why would I give money to support a religion that only loves children? I don't even have children!
Honestly I should be more forgiving. The church is going through a transitional period right now, and the service is normally better. It just bothers me when a service is so far from the point that it renders itself pointless. It also bothers me to see effort and potential so wasted. In response I have already made efforts to get more involved. You can't really gripe if you offer no input, right?
Hang On!
I've decided to make the jump to Beta. If you don't hear from me in two days, contact the authorities.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Ranting
Forgive me, but I need to vent. Roverine has become hooked on Grey's Anatomy. It is a sad commentary on our society that anyone watches this show. Even more pathetic is the fact that it isn't even the worst show on TV! I've long since refused to watch Desperate Housewives and The O. C. Although I still say that those Orange County kids are alright in a very twisted sort of way. Anyway, back to Grey's Anatomy. What is the appeal of this show? It is about a bunch of self obsessed brats who pursue the most frequent occurrence of inappropriate sexual relations possible, and practice some medicine in their free time.
In what world does it make sense that cheating on your wife because she cheated on you mean that everything will work out? And that work of genius only covers the first episode. In Grey's world you would then realize that cheating on your wife was fun, so you do it again. Using your logic, your wife then continues her affair. This angers you. Did I mention that you are cheating on your wife with someone you supervise at work?
Or, you are a doctor who really likes one of your patients. They like you also. The relationship progresses until you get engaged. Your fiance is sick, but not sick enough to get a needed transplant. To help out, you intentionally make them worse. They die. You quit, saying you feel bad about the whole thing when in actuality you were about 30 seconds away from getting fired. You get depressed, lay on the floor for awhile, makes some muffins, go to the bar, etc. Meanwhile your supervisor feels guilty because she should have told you not to kill your patients, and begs you to come back to work.
Let me tell you something. At my job, if I intentionally do anything that ends badly I will not be given the opportunity to quit, and will not be begged to return regardless of how tasty my muffins are.
In short, Grey's Anatomy has been added to the list of shows I refuse to watch.
In what world does it make sense that cheating on your wife because she cheated on you mean that everything will work out? And that work of genius only covers the first episode. In Grey's world you would then realize that cheating on your wife was fun, so you do it again. Using your logic, your wife then continues her affair. This angers you. Did I mention that you are cheating on your wife with someone you supervise at work?
Or, you are a doctor who really likes one of your patients. They like you also. The relationship progresses until you get engaged. Your fiance is sick, but not sick enough to get a needed transplant. To help out, you intentionally make them worse. They die. You quit, saying you feel bad about the whole thing when in actuality you were about 30 seconds away from getting fired. You get depressed, lay on the floor for awhile, makes some muffins, go to the bar, etc. Meanwhile your supervisor feels guilty because she should have told you not to kill your patients, and begs you to come back to work.
Let me tell you something. At my job, if I intentionally do anything that ends badly I will not be given the opportunity to quit, and will not be begged to return regardless of how tasty my muffins are.
In short, Grey's Anatomy has been added to the list of shows I refuse to watch.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Quote of The Week
Overheard at work:
"Who the heck is Gaudi paying off to keep getting a mistrial?"
Well, considering that Antoni Gaudi died in 1926 after being run over by a tram in Barcalona, I would imagine he would be paying God. Additionally considering that he was so ragged and unkempt at the time of his death that he wasn't recognized as the great Gaudi for days, I don't think he had enough money to keep God at bay for eighty years. I love the guys architecture though. John Gotti however, is probably paying off a series of jurors in New York.
"Who the heck is Gaudi paying off to keep getting a mistrial?"
Well, considering that Antoni Gaudi died in 1926 after being run over by a tram in Barcalona, I would imagine he would be paying God. Additionally considering that he was so ragged and unkempt at the time of his death that he wasn't recognized as the great Gaudi for days, I don't think he had enough money to keep God at bay for eighty years. I love the guys architecture though. John Gotti however, is probably paying off a series of jurors in New York.
Friday, September 15, 2006
The Bizarreness of My Life Knows No Bounds
For some reason the people I work with have strange relationships with their dogs. One coworker felt that his dog was becoming too aggressive, so he took it to the shooting range and, well, shot it. It didn't survive. Another coworker arrived at work one morning and stated that when he woke up his dog looked "a little sluggish." At 11:30 he took the rest of the day off to have the dog put down. Ok, so these guys border on the far end of "a little off," but they pale in comparison to what I heard today.
About a year ago, in an incident unrelated to the ones listed above, another coworker was advised by his veterinarian that his dog had reached its expiration date, and should be put down in order to save it from undue pain. The coworker refused and kept the dog alive for 8 months. During this time period the dog had days where it would not move, and had long lapses of unconsciousness. When it finally died, my coworker took an entire week off of work to mourn its death. If the dog meant so much to you, why did you torture it to death?
Two months ago, the same coworker's printer stopped working. Last night he finally got it operating again, and it immediately printed out a picture of his, now deceased, dog. A picture that he claims he never took, even though the picture is saved on both his home and work computers. Upon relaying to the story to his neighbor, my coworker was informed that his house emits strange noises in the middle of the day. Coworker's conclusion? He is being haunted by the ghost of his dead dog, and it may want to hurt him. I wonder why it would want to do that?
Imagine that you are in a situation where you believe that the ghost of your dead dog is out to do you harm. How would you handle that? I think I would try to keep it quiet, assuming that people would judge me poorly for those beliefs. My coworker obviously viewed things differently and has told everyone he sees about it. He even went so far as to suggest that the haunting was a type of karma for the time he criticized a female coworker for attempting to contact her miscarried child via a psychic. Initially I thought he was nuts for doing so, but now I see things differently. If not for his bold leadership involving this important issue I would still, to this day, have no idea how to handle a situation of this sort. How could I go through life without his exemplary handling of a canine haunting? I applaud his work and appreciate the life experiences he has shared with us all.
About a year ago, in an incident unrelated to the ones listed above, another coworker was advised by his veterinarian that his dog had reached its expiration date, and should be put down in order to save it from undue pain. The coworker refused and kept the dog alive for 8 months. During this time period the dog had days where it would not move, and had long lapses of unconsciousness. When it finally died, my coworker took an entire week off of work to mourn its death. If the dog meant so much to you, why did you torture it to death?
Two months ago, the same coworker's printer stopped working. Last night he finally got it operating again, and it immediately printed out a picture of his, now deceased, dog. A picture that he claims he never took, even though the picture is saved on both his home and work computers. Upon relaying to the story to his neighbor, my coworker was informed that his house emits strange noises in the middle of the day. Coworker's conclusion? He is being haunted by the ghost of his dead dog, and it may want to hurt him. I wonder why it would want to do that?
Imagine that you are in a situation where you believe that the ghost of your dead dog is out to do you harm. How would you handle that? I think I would try to keep it quiet, assuming that people would judge me poorly for those beliefs. My coworker obviously viewed things differently and has told everyone he sees about it. He even went so far as to suggest that the haunting was a type of karma for the time he criticized a female coworker for attempting to contact her miscarried child via a psychic. Initially I thought he was nuts for doing so, but now I see things differently. If not for his bold leadership involving this important issue I would still, to this day, have no idea how to handle a situation of this sort. How could I go through life without his exemplary handling of a canine haunting? I applaud his work and appreciate the life experiences he has shared with us all.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Regarding The Matter Which Must Be Addressed
In the fall of 1996 I was a young High School Senior enjoying the rigors of Cross Country running. My coach had a poster on his office wall displaying a red racing car and the name "Michael Schumacher" in bold print. Despite having no knowledge of racing I distinctly remember the poster because my coach and his wife frequently lauded Schumacher as "the greatest driver ever born." In my ignorance I took their word for it.
Fast forward four years. Lounging in my college dorm with nothing to do I found that my remote control had led me to an auto race. A surprisingly familiar red car shot across the screen and the announcer screamed something about "Schumacher." The red car, soon to be identified as a Ferrari, was holding a marginal lead over an ominous looking black and silver car. Behind them there was nothing. 52 seconds of nothing. The third place car was nearly a minute behind as these two masters grappled with each other. Although I didn't know it at the time I had stumbled upon the 2000 Italian Grand Prix and was witnessing a battle that had been raging for months. Michael Schumacher and Mika Hakkinen had been climbing over each other for the Formula One Driver's World Championship, the most coveted title in the most watched sport in the world, since early March. Both driver's had already won the title twice and neither was willing to lose their third to the other. As I said, I didn't know any of this at the time. All I knew is that the mysterious "Schumacher" won the race by three seconds and was so happy that he cried. Hakkinen also looked to be on the verge of tears, albeit for opposite reasons. Most bizarre of all was the third place car that finished 52 seconds back. It was driven by Ralf Schumacher. Michael had gutted his own brother on his way to victory. I was hooked.
In the coming months I went on a Formula One binge. If I wasn't watching the sport I was reading about it. Apparently Schumacher was considered by some to be the greatest driver ever born, and was well on his way to proving it to all doubters. Schumacher won the World Championship in 2000, followed by 2001, 2002, 2003, and 2004. He took me and tens of millions of viewers on a whirlwind ride the likes of which had never been seen before. I learned to eat and sleep Ferrarri red, and cheered as rival after rival fell to the wayside in defeat. I shouted with him in victory and wept with him in defeat. Secretly I prayed that Schumacher's era would never end. But alas, at 9:30 this morning I finally cursed me ears as they delivered the news.
It has been an exceptional time the last thirty years of what motorsport has given to me. I've loved all the good and bad moments and they've made it so special.
With those words Michael Schumacher announced his retirement from racing. Fittingly, the announcement came at the Italian Grand Prix just moments after Michael had clinched his 90th victory. He isn't done quite yet, there are three races remaining in the 2006 season, and Michael is in a strong position to win his 8th championship. However, for me, the racing world will never be the same. Ferrari have announced that Michael will not fully retire, but will take up "another role within the team." In the same breath they announced that Kimi Raikkonen, a driver both Michael and I hold in high regard, would be filling the vacancy in the hopes of keeping the dynasty alive. These statements have given me hope to continue watching the sport, but I ask that you join me in savoring these last few moments of the great man's career.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Crikey!
So, I'm apparently out of the loop. I didn't know until I got to work today that Steve Irwin had died. Some of you may remember that Steve and I once spent several weeks tracking Brechty's Mom through the Pennsylvania woodlands. Sadly, we had to put her down. The tranquilizers just weren't getting the job done, but that's a story for another time. I always loved "The Croc Hunter." In my younger years I could do a pretty good imitation of him. His show was one of the best on television, because you always got the feeling that he was about two seconds away from instant death. Apparently he was. I must say that taking a stingray barb to the heart while diving off of the coast of Australia is a pretty good way to go. Rumor has it that he even pulled the barb out himself before dying. That's hardcore. I loved that khaki look too. We'll miss you buddy.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Updates
I've performed some long overdue maintenance today. You will not that some of the links at left have been removed and replaced with new ones. The old links were to blogs that either didn't exist anymore, or ceased to entertain me. The new blogs are ones that I check frequently, and am sick of getting to through roundabout means. Most importantly though is the demise of Rover's Racing World. I haven't been blogging frequently enough to justify two blogs. I will still keep you updated with racing topics that catch my fancy.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Post Apocalyptic America.
That's how I saw it described on a website months ago. I was so enthralled with the idea that I posted on it over the winter. I'm talking about the Abandoned Turnpike. Yesterday myself, Baby Dague, and Roverine (formerly known as "The Fiance") braved the unknown and made a visit. For those of you who don't remember, the Abandoned Turnpike was originally part of the Pennsylvania Turnpike until increased traffic volume made its two tunnels inadequate for use. The PA Turnpike Commission constructed a new route through the mountains and the life of the Abandoned Turnpike began. After a tumultuous history the Pike finally appears to have found a home with a non-profit organization that has plans to incorporate it into a coast-to-coast bicycle superhighway. Restoration work has yet to begin, but the highway is open for would be adventurers to explore at their own risk.
Early yesterday morning the three of us loaded up and headed to South Central PA to take in the two gems of the Abandoned Turnpike: the tunnels. Along the route of the old highway are two old highway tunnels that cut under the local mountain ranges. The longest of the two, Sideling Hill, is over a mile long. Ray's Hill, the second tunnel, is around 3/4 mile. The Pike itself is somewhat hard to find. If you want to visit it call me. Don't trust directions you found online. Upon arrival I was kind of surprised that there actually was a highway out there in the middle of nowhere. The pavement was in bad condition and vegetation had grown up all over the place, but there it was! One of the nice things about the Pike is that, although it is in a pretty hilly area, the highway is graded for Interstate traffic. That means that there are no steep hills, only long gentle ones. Sideling Hill lies a short ride away from the parking area, and my neurotic mind had been pondering everything that could go wrong in the belly of that beast for days. I had developed a safety system that hinged on redundancy. Bicycle headlamps were backed up by Maglites which were backed up by glow sticks. Two separate individuals would contact authorities if we weren't heard form by a set time. Like I said, neurotic. As it turned out, Sideling Hill turned out to be much closer to "cool" than to "horrific." Several web pages touted it as being so long that you cannot see light at either end when in the center. That may be true, if you visit at night. It does get dark though. There were rooms at either end of the tunnel leading up into the ventilation and service areas above. Unfortunately the stairways were so rusted that we couldn't venture beyond the first floor rooms. The tunnel itself was long and dark. Its subterranean chill was a welcome break from the summer morning. The rooms at the far end proved to be equally inaccessible. Beyond Sideling Hill we faced several miles of deteriorating highway before reaching Ray's Hill tunnel. To our chagrin, the near side access room's doors were welded shut. We ate lunch on the near side and then rode through. The ride was fun for sure, and the tunnels were great, but as far as adventure goes the trip had been lacking. The meandering subject matter of the local graffiti kept us entertained. At the far end of the tunnel we found more welded doors, and were about to head back to the car until Roverine pointed out a trail of sorts leading up a steep hill along the tunnel's entry way. It wasn't long before Baby Dague and I scampered up the hill and gained access to the tunnel's second story maintenance area by way of a ladder and an unsecured window. The inside was amazing. There were giant ventilation fans, maintenance tunnels running on top of the tunnel for its entire length, and the amazing "triangle room." I felt like I was in Lost. The entire place was littered with paintball and airsoft pellets. Initially we thought some kids had had some fun there, but I recently learned that the Army sometimes uses the buildings to train troops before they head to Iraq. After exploring for a bit we mounted our bikes and headed for home. On the way back Baby Dague showed us why he can always fall back on a circus career, and we decided to blow our glow stick backups on an impromptu rave in the heart of Sideling Hill. It was a great trip all around and I plan to go again. Baby Dague and I would love to go at night. I have attached some pics for your viewing, unfortunately most of the ones we took can't be posted because the local graffiti probably isn't appropriate for public viewing.
Exterior view of Sideling Hill Tunnel
Deep inside Sideling Hill.
Early yesterday morning the three of us loaded up and headed to South Central PA to take in the two gems of the Abandoned Turnpike: the tunnels. Along the route of the old highway are two old highway tunnels that cut under the local mountain ranges. The longest of the two, Sideling Hill, is over a mile long. Ray's Hill, the second tunnel, is around 3/4 mile. The Pike itself is somewhat hard to find. If you want to visit it call me. Don't trust directions you found online. Upon arrival I was kind of surprised that there actually was a highway out there in the middle of nowhere. The pavement was in bad condition and vegetation had grown up all over the place, but there it was! One of the nice things about the Pike is that, although it is in a pretty hilly area, the highway is graded for Interstate traffic. That means that there are no steep hills, only long gentle ones. Sideling Hill lies a short ride away from the parking area, and my neurotic mind had been pondering everything that could go wrong in the belly of that beast for days. I had developed a safety system that hinged on redundancy. Bicycle headlamps were backed up by Maglites which were backed up by glow sticks. Two separate individuals would contact authorities if we weren't heard form by a set time. Like I said, neurotic. As it turned out, Sideling Hill turned out to be much closer to "cool" than to "horrific." Several web pages touted it as being so long that you cannot see light at either end when in the center. That may be true, if you visit at night. It does get dark though. There were rooms at either end of the tunnel leading up into the ventilation and service areas above. Unfortunately the stairways were so rusted that we couldn't venture beyond the first floor rooms. The tunnel itself was long and dark. Its subterranean chill was a welcome break from the summer morning. The rooms at the far end proved to be equally inaccessible. Beyond Sideling Hill we faced several miles of deteriorating highway before reaching Ray's Hill tunnel. To our chagrin, the near side access room's doors were welded shut. We ate lunch on the near side and then rode through. The ride was fun for sure, and the tunnels were great, but as far as adventure goes the trip had been lacking. The meandering subject matter of the local graffiti kept us entertained. At the far end of the tunnel we found more welded doors, and were about to head back to the car until Roverine pointed out a trail of sorts leading up a steep hill along the tunnel's entry way. It wasn't long before Baby Dague and I scampered up the hill and gained access to the tunnel's second story maintenance area by way of a ladder and an unsecured window. The inside was amazing. There were giant ventilation fans, maintenance tunnels running on top of the tunnel for its entire length, and the amazing "triangle room." I felt like I was in Lost. The entire place was littered with paintball and airsoft pellets. Initially we thought some kids had had some fun there, but I recently learned that the Army sometimes uses the buildings to train troops before they head to Iraq. After exploring for a bit we mounted our bikes and headed for home. On the way back Baby Dague showed us why he can always fall back on a circus career, and we decided to blow our glow stick backups on an impromptu rave in the heart of Sideling Hill. It was a great trip all around and I plan to go again. Baby Dague and I would love to go at night. I have attached some pics for your viewing, unfortunately most of the ones we took can't be posted because the local graffiti probably isn't appropriate for public viewing.
Exterior view of Sideling Hill Tunnel 
Inside Sideling Hill, looking back at the Pike.
Deeper inside Sideling Hill.
Ever get the feeling that you're being watched?
Looking down at Roverine from the Ray's Hill complex.
Stairway inside Ray's Hill.
Baby Dague showing off his ninja skills.
My bike on pot.
Glow stick party!
And some more of that.
Deep inside Sideling Hill.Friday, August 11, 2006
Honeymoon Pics
Here is a small collection of honeymoon pictures from Puerto Vallarta.
Sunset from the bar.
In the seaside pool.
On the beach.
Still on the Beach.
The view from our room.
The Church of the Lady of Guadelupe in Puerto Vallarta proper.
Hotel view again.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
I'm Back.
My trip to exotic locales has ended for this year, and I'm pretty darn happy to be home. Maintaining a rigorous schedule of leisure was more taxing than I had anticipated. The last two days were mostly spent napping. I only ventured onto the beach once, to watch the moon rise. I'm hoping to get some pictures up for you while on night shift tonight at which time I will also review the three ocean front locations I visited. No big shock here, New Jersey didn't fare well. While on vacation I was able to read Exodus and The Da Vinci Code. Here are my thoughts:
Exodus is an epic novel of historical fiction by Leon Uris covering the Jewish migration to Israel from the late 1800s to the 1948 War of independence. Overall I would rate this book as very good, bordering on excellent. On the historical end Uris has done his homework. The reader gets an excellent overview of the plight of the Jewish people throughout Europe and Palestine from the Diaspora up until the founding of the state of Israel. Uris is able to adeptly weave fictional characters into the historical events, enabling the reader to become more emotionally attached to the events than would be possible with straight fiction. The fictional plot focuses on the activities of the Israeli Ben Canaan family, mostly on the son Ari Ban Canaan as he fights to assist ships in running the British blockade of Israeli ports and later is a leader in the fight for independence. Along with Ari on most of his journeys is an American nurse named Kitty Fremont. Kitty begins the novel as a typically ignorant American with some underlying Anti-Semitic feelings. As the novel progresses she gradually falls in love with Israel and also with Ari. Overall I feel that Exodus is kept out of the "excellent" category by two main flaws. The historical portions can be a tad lengthy and tedious. Beyond that it is clear from the novel that Uris is a fervent Zionist and makes his opinion well known, which is certainly his right as the author. However, his blatantly biased slant becomes increasingly annoying as the novel wears on. One begins to get the feeling that no Jew has ever so much as violated a traffic law while Arabs feed on Israeli babies in their free time. When it comes to the Arab/Israeli situation I firmly support the Israelis, so if I find the slant to be annoying, others may be far less tolerant. Uris' bias does have a positive aspect to it though. Exodus is the perfect primer for understanding the Israeli side of the issue. If you want to get the Arab's point of view, look elsewhere.
With all of the hype surrounding the recent release of The Da Vinci Code movie I decided to finally break down and read the book. Before addressing the religious issues involved I would like to look at the literary merits of the book. Overall I was greatly disappointed. The Da Vinci Code reads like any other cheap paperback thriller that you could pick up at K-Mart. The characters are mildly unique and the plot is heavy on fluff and relatively predictable. It is a nice read if you don't enjoy being mentally engaged and have some free time to waste. It is so run of the mill that I am still trying to figure out why the religious establishment even bothered to respond to it at all. Without their ranting I can't help but think that sales would have been significantly less than what the have been. Anyone with a smattering of brain cells can see that the novel is a factless fairy tale created by a man with a clear agenda to smear persons of faith.
I guess that brings us to my analysis of the religious claims that Dan Brown makes in his book. His basic premise is that Jesus Christ was married to Mary Magdalene with whom he had a child. The Church, mainly through Constantine's hijacking of the Council of Nicea in 323 AD, suppressed this information in order to consolidate their own power base. This has far reaching implications including Brown's claim that it eliminated the "sacred feminine" from religious worship and turned the world into a male dominated society. In order for the world to be truly balanced and peaceful we must worship both male and female deities. To begin with, it appears that Dan Brown did the equivalent of a google search when researching the Council of Nicea. Beyond the date Brown presents little else that even approaches accurate information. For example, Brown, through the fictional character Leigh Teabing, claims that Constantine used the Council to elevate Jesus to the status of God, prior to that he had only been considered man. Brown/Teabing claim that Constantine barely succeeded in this manner by winning a very close vote. In fact, there were writings in existence as early as 200 years prior to the Council of Nicea establishing Jesus Christ both God and man. It was hardly a new concept in 323 AD. Also, out of the 318 bishops present at the council 316 supported Christ's deity, two dissented. Hardly a close vote. Brown also ignores the fact that, beyond assisting with some procedural items and providing opening statements, Constantine was a spectator at the council. Brown claims that the council established the current configuration of the Bible, intentionally choosing books that eliminated the importance of Mary Magdalene. In fact, the council never even discussed the issue of Canon. These items are part of a much larger list of factual errors that Brown makes ranging from central religious doctrine to the basic construction of the Louvre. Brown doesn't even agree with himself at times. Characters in the novel claim that the true relationship between Jesus and Mary must be revealed so that the "sacred feminine" can also be worshipped allowing for spiritual balance to be restored to the world, but at the same time argue that Jesus was only a man and should not be worshipped as God. In the end The Da Vinci Code is a work of fiction and should be read as such. Even then, I would be hard pressed to advise that it is worthy use of your time.
Exodus is an epic novel of historical fiction by Leon Uris covering the Jewish migration to Israel from the late 1800s to the 1948 War of independence. Overall I would rate this book as very good, bordering on excellent. On the historical end Uris has done his homework. The reader gets an excellent overview of the plight of the Jewish people throughout Europe and Palestine from the Diaspora up until the founding of the state of Israel. Uris is able to adeptly weave fictional characters into the historical events, enabling the reader to become more emotionally attached to the events than would be possible with straight fiction. The fictional plot focuses on the activities of the Israeli Ben Canaan family, mostly on the son Ari Ban Canaan as he fights to assist ships in running the British blockade of Israeli ports and later is a leader in the fight for independence. Along with Ari on most of his journeys is an American nurse named Kitty Fremont. Kitty begins the novel as a typically ignorant American with some underlying Anti-Semitic feelings. As the novel progresses she gradually falls in love with Israel and also with Ari. Overall I feel that Exodus is kept out of the "excellent" category by two main flaws. The historical portions can be a tad lengthy and tedious. Beyond that it is clear from the novel that Uris is a fervent Zionist and makes his opinion well known, which is certainly his right as the author. However, his blatantly biased slant becomes increasingly annoying as the novel wears on. One begins to get the feeling that no Jew has ever so much as violated a traffic law while Arabs feed on Israeli babies in their free time. When it comes to the Arab/Israeli situation I firmly support the Israelis, so if I find the slant to be annoying, others may be far less tolerant. Uris' bias does have a positive aspect to it though. Exodus is the perfect primer for understanding the Israeli side of the issue. If you want to get the Arab's point of view, look elsewhere.
With all of the hype surrounding the recent release of The Da Vinci Code movie I decided to finally break down and read the book. Before addressing the religious issues involved I would like to look at the literary merits of the book. Overall I was greatly disappointed. The Da Vinci Code reads like any other cheap paperback thriller that you could pick up at K-Mart. The characters are mildly unique and the plot is heavy on fluff and relatively predictable. It is a nice read if you don't enjoy being mentally engaged and have some free time to waste. It is so run of the mill that I am still trying to figure out why the religious establishment even bothered to respond to it at all. Without their ranting I can't help but think that sales would have been significantly less than what the have been. Anyone with a smattering of brain cells can see that the novel is a factless fairy tale created by a man with a clear agenda to smear persons of faith.
I guess that brings us to my analysis of the religious claims that Dan Brown makes in his book. His basic premise is that Jesus Christ was married to Mary Magdalene with whom he had a child. The Church, mainly through Constantine's hijacking of the Council of Nicea in 323 AD, suppressed this information in order to consolidate their own power base. This has far reaching implications including Brown's claim that it eliminated the "sacred feminine" from religious worship and turned the world into a male dominated society. In order for the world to be truly balanced and peaceful we must worship both male and female deities. To begin with, it appears that Dan Brown did the equivalent of a google search when researching the Council of Nicea. Beyond the date Brown presents little else that even approaches accurate information. For example, Brown, through the fictional character Leigh Teabing, claims that Constantine used the Council to elevate Jesus to the status of God, prior to that he had only been considered man. Brown/Teabing claim that Constantine barely succeeded in this manner by winning a very close vote. In fact, there were writings in existence as early as 200 years prior to the Council of Nicea establishing Jesus Christ both God and man. It was hardly a new concept in 323 AD. Also, out of the 318 bishops present at the council 316 supported Christ's deity, two dissented. Hardly a close vote. Brown also ignores the fact that, beyond assisting with some procedural items and providing opening statements, Constantine was a spectator at the council. Brown claims that the council established the current configuration of the Bible, intentionally choosing books that eliminated the importance of Mary Magdalene. In fact, the council never even discussed the issue of Canon. These items are part of a much larger list of factual errors that Brown makes ranging from central religious doctrine to the basic construction of the Louvre. Brown doesn't even agree with himself at times. Characters in the novel claim that the true relationship between Jesus and Mary must be revealed so that the "sacred feminine" can also be worshipped allowing for spiritual balance to be restored to the world, but at the same time argue that Jesus was only a man and should not be worshipped as God. In the end The Da Vinci Code is a work of fiction and should be read as such. Even then, I would be hard pressed to advise that it is worthy use of your time.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
I Don't Mean To Gloat.
But I warned you about Landis. I also don't want to come across as happy about this. I thought it was a great thing for US cycling when he won the Tour. Now the whole thing appears to be a farce. For those of you who aren't aware of what I am talking about, Floyd Landis was suspended by his cycling team today after testing positive for doping. The rumbles actually began yesterday when rumors leaked that a top finisher in the Tour De France had failed a drug test. Shortly thereafter Landis unexpectedly pulled out of two events in Denmark. I was hoping this was because of his hip. Now it appears that it was because he didn't have a job anymore. I don't really feel bad for Floyd at all. I think I have made it clear that I think the guy is a complete jerk. I do feel really bad for his family, they appear to be genuine people, and don't deserve the hounding they will certainly get. The real shame of the thing is what this will do to pro cycling. What Landis did was gutsy. The 2nd, 3rd, and 4th place finishers in last year's Tour are banned from this year's Tour for doping, and Landis just keeps on shooting up. Amazing. The entire reputation of the sport is now virtually shot. I'm sure Landis will come up with some ridiculous excuse, just like Hamilton did a few years ago, that no one will believe. The whole thing just stinks. Is it impossible to believe in hero's anymore? I'm even beginning to believe those rumors about Armstrong. Anyway, I was going to post some honeymoon pics for you, but that will have to wait until tomorrow.
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