Sunday, March 9, 2008
Graphing Physical Exertion
Last week I did 30 minutes on the rotating stair machine at level 10 while holding an 8 pound medicine ball. At certain intervals (when the bars were more than 5) I would hold the ball above my head, the rest of the time I held it near my stomach. At the end of that workout I was sweating really profusely and felt like I had had a great workout, but that I had some juice left. This week I thought I would crank it up by going to level 14 and using a 10 pound medicine ball for 20 minutes. This seemed reasonable to me at the time. The problem was that I had made a fatal assumption that the exertion required to complete the exercise was a linear factor of the speed, weight, and time variables I had adjusted. In other words y=x. The actual equation is graphed here for clarity:
Friday, March 7, 2008
Inadvertant Insults and their Impact on Casual European Swimmers
This morning at 7:40 am I met my friend Amal at the LA Fitness in downtown Bellevue. At lunch last week Amal told me that as a result of a recent physical examination (that indicated high blood sugar levels and other negative items) he was increasing his consistency of exercise. Part of his new regimen is swimming, but he told me that he really has no experience with swimming and was finding it quite difficult to complete six laps. I offered to coach him a little bit and this led to the Friday rendezvous.
The pool at LA Fitness has three roped lanes for lap swimming. Amal and I had the near side lane to ourselves. The middle lane had one woman in it and the far lane had one man in it. Amal and I began by having me watch him swim one lap, then moving on to some basic balance drills and kicking drills. During the course of this introductory lesson the woman in the next lane had been watching us most of the time, but had remained silent. As we were nearing the end of the lesson I was giving Amal instruction about not attempting the front crawl (freestyle) until he had mastered some other basic concepts. This is because he has an aversion to swimming with his head under water, which is required for proper freestyle form. To give him an outlet for exercise in the mean time while he works on his drills for the next week I wanted to show him the beginner version of the breast stroke. This is the version used by many beginners and recreational swimmers where the head is above water the entire time. This is how I introduced the idea to him.
me: I can tell that you have an aversion to swimming with your head under water. This is a completely natural reaction that many beginning swimmers have and is not a big deal. Your body wants to breath and when it can't breath in and out whenever it wants this can be unsettling at first. So, I want to show you a technique where you can swim with your head above water the whole time to give you something you can exercise with until we build enough foundation where you can do the front crawl. But, I just want you to know that what I am about to show you is NOT the correct form for the breast stroke.
(at this point the woman in the next lane, who I had not even noticed was swimming nearby in the next lane says)
woman: That's not the correct way huh?
me: No. I'd call it the beginner head out of the water way.
woman: Well, that is how we always did it in Europe.
(I am completely dumbstruck by her statement at this point. Without saying anything I turn back to Amal and continue the demonstration of the technique.)
Later on I puzzled over this exchange and realized what had happened. This woman had been swimming in the next lane the entire time using what I had called the "beginner head out of the water" breaststroke. Since I had not been paying any attention to her at all I only interpreted her question in the context of my work with Amal and therefore gave her a direct and honest answer appropriate for that context. Unfortunately, I had not realized that I had probably just inadvertently insulted her since she had been swimming that way the entire time. Here is the really interesting part, what does her Europe retort even mean? She was a middle-aged white woman with no discernible accent. This means she did not grow up anywhere in Europe. Did she visit there? Vacation there? Live there for a few years? While there did she participate in an active swimming regimen where they conformed to the European version of the breaststroke? Are Europeans dead set on swimming the breaststroke in an incredibly inefficient manner? (This is rhetorical. Europeans, and everyone else for that matter, know proper breaststroke form). Or is this one of those vague references to Europe that some middle/upper-middle/upper class white people make in an attempt to trump whatever had just been said because as everyone knows Europe is the center for all intellectual, cultural, and physical perfection?
As an interesting finale to the whole strange saga I also showed Amal the side stroke as a second "head above water" way to just get down the lane a few times. A few minutes later I looked up to see the woman in the middle lane trying to do a side stroke and doing it very poorly. When she saw that I saw her doing it she immediately stopped.
The pool at LA Fitness has three roped lanes for lap swimming. Amal and I had the near side lane to ourselves. The middle lane had one woman in it and the far lane had one man in it. Amal and I began by having me watch him swim one lap, then moving on to some basic balance drills and kicking drills. During the course of this introductory lesson the woman in the next lane had been watching us most of the time, but had remained silent. As we were nearing the end of the lesson I was giving Amal instruction about not attempting the front crawl (freestyle) until he had mastered some other basic concepts. This is because he has an aversion to swimming with his head under water, which is required for proper freestyle form. To give him an outlet for exercise in the mean time while he works on his drills for the next week I wanted to show him the beginner version of the breast stroke. This is the version used by many beginners and recreational swimmers where the head is above water the entire time. This is how I introduced the idea to him.
me: I can tell that you have an aversion to swimming with your head under water. This is a completely natural reaction that many beginning swimmers have and is not a big deal. Your body wants to breath and when it can't breath in and out whenever it wants this can be unsettling at first. So, I want to show you a technique where you can swim with your head above water the whole time to give you something you can exercise with until we build enough foundation where you can do the front crawl. But, I just want you to know that what I am about to show you is NOT the correct form for the breast stroke.
(at this point the woman in the next lane, who I had not even noticed was swimming nearby in the next lane says)
woman: That's not the correct way huh?
me: No. I'd call it the beginner head out of the water way.
woman: Well, that is how we always did it in Europe.
(I am completely dumbstruck by her statement at this point. Without saying anything I turn back to Amal and continue the demonstration of the technique.)
Later on I puzzled over this exchange and realized what had happened. This woman had been swimming in the next lane the entire time using what I had called the "beginner head out of the water" breaststroke. Since I had not been paying any attention to her at all I only interpreted her question in the context of my work with Amal and therefore gave her a direct and honest answer appropriate for that context. Unfortunately, I had not realized that I had probably just inadvertently insulted her since she had been swimming that way the entire time. Here is the really interesting part, what does her Europe retort even mean? She was a middle-aged white woman with no discernible accent. This means she did not grow up anywhere in Europe. Did she visit there? Vacation there? Live there for a few years? While there did she participate in an active swimming regimen where they conformed to the European version of the breaststroke? Are Europeans dead set on swimming the breaststroke in an incredibly inefficient manner? (This is rhetorical. Europeans, and everyone else for that matter, know proper breaststroke form). Or is this one of those vague references to Europe that some middle/upper-middle/upper class white people make in an attempt to trump whatever had just been said because as everyone knows Europe is the center for all intellectual, cultural, and physical perfection?
As an interesting finale to the whole strange saga I also showed Amal the side stroke as a second "head above water" way to just get down the lane a few times. A few minutes later I looked up to see the woman in the middle lane trying to do a side stroke and doing it very poorly. When she saw that I saw her doing it she immediately stopped.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Technology is "The Awesome"
This afternoon I took my laptop with me to the bathroom. It was 1:55 and I had a 2:00 meeting to go to, but I knew I needed to crap before the meeting or I wasn't going to be able to think straight. I sat down in the stall, wiped the seat, applied to toilet condom and sat down with my laptop right where it was made to go: in my lap. And there, from the comfort of the semi-public restroom using the corporate wireless network I was able to check my gmail. In my gmail account I found an email from emiles saying I had new opportunities to gain minuscule amounts of frequent flier miles by subjecting myself to some new adds. Of course I immediately complied and earned 10 free miles by clicking through about 5 pages of ad crap. All this occurred while actually taking a crap to add a nice sense of harmony to the experience. I then typed up this blog entry, also while pooping. Time to head to the meeting. Cya.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
A moment of insight
In a flash of insight this morning Melinda declared that the happy, playful, energetic version of me makes for far more enjoyable company than the tired, grumpy, mean, rude version of me. The local news outlets have all been notified. There is some initial reaction from them that I should be ready for national and international outlets to be contacting me soon about this development.
Sick and Tired
I'm so sick and tired of all the left-leaning weenies who infest this city, this state, my place of work, the airwaves, the media, etc... I'm tired of their bumper stickers about Bush, about the war, about creation since, about so-called choice. I'm sick of their snide comments in meetings, at cocktail parties, and around the water cooler about things such as: Christians are fundamental boneheads, creation science is unscientific ninnery, Bush is an illiterate liar, carbon footprints, global warming, education, the environment, whatever. Oh yeah, and here are some winners that are either outright topics or subtle underpinnings of all the others: there is no objective truth, morality (and truth) is relative. I'm so sick of the mindless, safety in numbers, follow the crowd, regurgitate what my news team told me to think, baa baa I'm a sheep way that people agree with this crap when it comes spewing out of someones mouth in the average group of yo-yos these days. "oh yeah". "right on man". "hahaha, so true".
No. BS. Untrue. NO NO NO. You pompous, arrogant weenies. Truth is on your side? Science is on your side? WRONG. You are sitting on a giant dung heap of rotten, false presuppositions. The gargantuan task of showing you this, is so daunting that the mere thought of it has drained all of my strength and hope and left me only with the ability to scribble out this useless and pathetic little blog entry. I used to be more energetic. I used to have fire and passion to debate and convince. Now I just feel that the whole effort is one big tiring exercise in futility. Who listens anyway? Is anyone really interested in the truth? How can you be when you don't even believe truth exists? So here I am. Frustrated. Angry. And sick of listening to your inane babble.
So, if you don't mind, actually even if you do, please take your useless God-hating noise elsewhere. Preferably somewhere private and secluded. Maybe one of your nice little meetings where you murder babies and hug trees.
No. BS. Untrue. NO NO NO. You pompous, arrogant weenies. Truth is on your side? Science is on your side? WRONG. You are sitting on a giant dung heap of rotten, false presuppositions. The gargantuan task of showing you this, is so daunting that the mere thought of it has drained all of my strength and hope and left me only with the ability to scribble out this useless and pathetic little blog entry. I used to be more energetic. I used to have fire and passion to debate and convince. Now I just feel that the whole effort is one big tiring exercise in futility. Who listens anyway? Is anyone really interested in the truth? How can you be when you don't even believe truth exists? So here I am. Frustrated. Angry. And sick of listening to your inane babble.
So, if you don't mind, actually even if you do, please take your useless God-hating noise elsewhere. Preferably somewhere private and secluded. Maybe one of your nice little meetings where you murder babies and hug trees.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Olympus WS-110 Digital Voice Recorder
I recently bought an "Olympus WS-110 Digital Voice Recorder" and I now take it with me everywhere. In the car for the daily commute, on hikes, everywhere. All those times when I would have an idea or want to jot down a reminder and could not easily do so are a thing of the past. It is really tiny and weighs only 1.7 ounces with the battery in it. Simply put, it is "The Awesome".
Here is a transcription (with very minor edits) of the voice recordings taken by my new lovely on a hike of Mt. Si on Saturday March 12, 2008. There are 18 entries from that hike.
1. Arriving at the Mt. Si parking lot, according to my cell phone, at 10:13 am. Elevation according to my altimeter 500 ft.
2. First quick break at mile mark 0.5. The sign says elevation here is 1120. Altimeter showing 800, so I am off by 300 ft. Adjusting now.
3. Second break 10:57. Sign: elevation 1940, mile 1.5.
4. Also, altimeter accurate at this sign.
5. At about 2400 ft the light drizzle that had been coming on and off the whole way turned to sleet and then hail. About 2500 ft started seeing patches of snow on the ground off trail. Now I am at mile marker 2.5, elevation 2760, time 11:26.
6. Bexar has been exceptionally good today. Very mindful, staying close by, very good with lots of people passing by.
7. At about 2900 ft there is snow in the path, but it is still boot hikeable. It is well packed down, not very slippery. Yaktraks might be nice, but I'm not putting mine on.
8. Revise that last, I am indeed putting my YakTracks on.
9. When I stopped to put my YakTracks on I am fairly certain I stopped at the worst place and at the worst time imaginable. It was a very narrow spot in the trail and off to the right was a pretty steep incline with trees and brush and snow. Luckily, at least there was a little stick there I could hook the end of Bexar's leash to. I took off my pack. Dig for my Yaktraks to get them out. Close my pack up. In the meantime people start going by. So I am holding my pack, pulling Bexar to the side and making him sit, and pulling on my Yaktraks. I am putting on my Yaktraks, standing on one foot, holding Bexar, people are going by and of course as I am trying to do this balancing act my butt bumps my pack and sends it sliding down the slope about 20 ft. Luckily, it hit some brush and stopped right after a patch of snow. So, after this long ordeal of putting on these Yaktraks, which are a pain in the ass to get on these boots, I have to climb down the hill to get my pack. Bexar tries to come with me while he is tied to the stake. I don't want him to choke himself so I make him "stay". I get my pack, climb back up, giant nightmare.
10. 12:05, mile marker 3.5, elevation 3620.
11. Just a little while ago the Yaktrack on my left boot came off, it was a pain the ass to put back on. I'm not liking these things.
12. It's 12:33. I'm at the top I think. Bunch of rock outcroppings around here. I'm not sure I'm at the very top, but I don't see a clear way to get there. Anyway, this is pretty good. Looks like from here, if it was clear, I could see forever. But, it's not. It's totally foggy and snowing, so I can't see diddly. Maybe 200-300 ft visibility. Very foggy. It is not snowing hard, just kind of constant light, small flakes. Got my pad out which is actually very warm on these rocks. Got Bexar's water out. Hes been eating snow like crazy so I figured he might be thirsty. I'm having a snack.
13. Time is 1:08, I've been descending for just a little while in the snow. Bexar is totally pissing me off and trying to make me fall. My knees are a little bit sore. My fingertips are little bit cold. I put on my rain jacket. All of my gloves: liner, inner glove, rain shell. Fleece jacket, undershirt, rain shell, head cover, fleece hat. Same pants, not putting on my rain shell pants. Starting to warm up now as I am going down. My fingers are not cold anymore. My Yaktrak on the left foot came off again.
14. (this entry is some poetry crap you don't want to hear, except what happened while I was making that note) *CRUNCH* Ouch! I just fell. That hurt.
15. I think I forgot to make a note about Bexar's poo. We were most of the way up. We were an area that was completely snow covered on the trail and the sides. It was hard packed snow with a crusty outer layer. Lots of people coming by, this trail is way too freaking crowded for me. Thank goodness we pulled off to the side, because right was we did that Bexar unleashed a fountain of liquid poo that was really gross and explosive. It was hot so it right into the top layer of snow and ice. He spread it out over about 2 feet of ground. So, here I am with other people going by. It stinks bad enough that some guys make are joking about it as they go by. All these people see this so I at least have to make some kind of show about cleaning it up. I scooped it up with a blue bag and buried that in a pit of snow. No one saw me do that part. I covered up the 2 ft of smeared, melted, poo-stained snow with more snow.
16. It's 2:50. I'm back to the truck in the parking lot.
Here is a transcription (with very minor edits) of the voice recordings taken by my new lovely on a hike of Mt. Si on Saturday March 12, 2008. There are 18 entries from that hike.
1. Arriving at the Mt. Si parking lot, according to my cell phone, at 10:13 am. Elevation according to my altimeter 500 ft.
2. First quick break at mile mark 0.5. The sign says elevation here is 1120. Altimeter showing 800, so I am off by 300 ft. Adjusting now.
3. Second break 10:57. Sign: elevation 1940, mile 1.5.
4. Also, altimeter accurate at this sign.
5. At about 2400 ft the light drizzle that had been coming on and off the whole way turned to sleet and then hail. About 2500 ft started seeing patches of snow on the ground off trail. Now I am at mile marker 2.5, elevation 2760, time 11:26.
6. Bexar has been exceptionally good today. Very mindful, staying close by, very good with lots of people passing by.
7. At about 2900 ft there is snow in the path, but it is still boot hikeable. It is well packed down, not very slippery. Yaktraks might be nice, but I'm not putting mine on.
8. Revise that last, I am indeed putting my YakTracks on.
9. When I stopped to put my YakTracks on I am fairly certain I stopped at the worst place and at the worst time imaginable. It was a very narrow spot in the trail and off to the right was a pretty steep incline with trees and brush and snow. Luckily, at least there was a little stick there I could hook the end of Bexar's leash to. I took off my pack. Dig for my Yaktraks to get them out. Close my pack up. In the meantime people start going by. So I am holding my pack, pulling Bexar to the side and making him sit, and pulling on my Yaktraks. I am putting on my Yaktraks, standing on one foot, holding Bexar, people are going by and of course as I am trying to do this balancing act my butt bumps my pack and sends it sliding down the slope about 20 ft. Luckily, it hit some brush and stopped right after a patch of snow. So, after this long ordeal of putting on these Yaktraks, which are a pain in the ass to get on these boots, I have to climb down the hill to get my pack. Bexar tries to come with me while he is tied to the stake. I don't want him to choke himself so I make him "stay". I get my pack, climb back up, giant nightmare.
10. 12:05, mile marker 3.5, elevation 3620.
11. Just a little while ago the Yaktrack on my left boot came off, it was a pain the ass to put back on. I'm not liking these things.
12. It's 12:33. I'm at the top I think. Bunch of rock outcroppings around here. I'm not sure I'm at the very top, but I don't see a clear way to get there. Anyway, this is pretty good. Looks like from here, if it was clear, I could see forever. But, it's not. It's totally foggy and snowing, so I can't see diddly. Maybe 200-300 ft visibility. Very foggy. It is not snowing hard, just kind of constant light, small flakes. Got my pad out which is actually very warm on these rocks. Got Bexar's water out. Hes been eating snow like crazy so I figured he might be thirsty. I'm having a snack.
13. Time is 1:08, I've been descending for just a little while in the snow. Bexar is totally pissing me off and trying to make me fall. My knees are a little bit sore. My fingertips are little bit cold. I put on my rain jacket. All of my gloves: liner, inner glove, rain shell. Fleece jacket, undershirt, rain shell, head cover, fleece hat. Same pants, not putting on my rain shell pants. Starting to warm up now as I am going down. My fingers are not cold anymore. My Yaktrak on the left foot came off again.
14. (this entry is some poetry crap you don't want to hear, except what happened while I was making that note) *CRUNCH* Ouch! I just fell. That hurt.
15. I think I forgot to make a note about Bexar's poo. We were most of the way up. We were an area that was completely snow covered on the trail and the sides. It was hard packed snow with a crusty outer layer. Lots of people coming by, this trail is way too freaking crowded for me. Thank goodness we pulled off to the side, because right was we did that Bexar unleashed a fountain of liquid poo that was really gross and explosive. It was hot so it right into the top layer of snow and ice. He spread it out over about 2 feet of ground. So, here I am with other people going by. It stinks bad enough that some guys make are joking about it as they go by. All these people see this so I at least have to make some kind of show about cleaning it up. I scooped it up with a blue bag and buried that in a pit of snow. No one saw me do that part. I covered up the 2 ft of smeared, melted, poo-stained snow with more snow.
16. It's 2:50. I'm back to the truck in the parking lot.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Nose Woes
I'm officially not a "young adult" anymore. Melinda told me so today. Also, my body has been trying to tell me this for about the last year or so. Not in the creaky, groaning, "I'm old" sort of way. Not that, not yet. I didn't say I'm officially old. That is still some ways off. But it is clear that I am not a young adult. One of the clearest signs of this is on the new things I must add to my personal hygiene regimen. Primarily I am speaking here of the removal of unwanted hair. This may be either the complete removal of all hair from places that it ought not be or the beating back of sections of hair that have overstepped their boundaries. Until recently this has consisted primarily of the removal of unsightly little dark hairs that have started cropping up on the outside edges of my ears. The removal of these is no big deal and really not all that painful. It is an annoying task, but one I can deal with. Next was the one or two mutant eyebrow hairs that started growing much longer than their legal length. Since there is no real way to trim these troublesome giants they must simply be plucked. This is slightly more painful than the ear hair, but still nothing to blog about.
Then came the nose hair excursions. It started several months ago. Or at least that is when I started noticing them. One or two nose hairs would just start hanging out or down far beyond the bounds of decency. As this kind of flagrant rebellion cannot be tolerated I quickly seized my tweezers and began to remove them root and all. That is when I discovered that the roots of nose hairs are not only attached to the flesh of the inside of your nose, but they are also anchored into a central nerve cluster located at the center of your brain. This means that the forced removal of one of these wayward dirt catchers will result in blinding pain, welling tears, a running nose and sometimes sneezing. Can I just give a big "WTF!?" at this point? I mean what is the big deal about the removal of one little nose hair that necessitates all these alarms sounding? Does the body really need that much protection for those little suckers? I really hate to question the designer of this things since I know that He is wise and powerful beyond even my wildest imaginations. But still, I have to ask, is that wiring really necessary?
Then came the nose hair excursions. It started several months ago. Or at least that is when I started noticing them. One or two nose hairs would just start hanging out or down far beyond the bounds of decency. As this kind of flagrant rebellion cannot be tolerated I quickly seized my tweezers and began to remove them root and all. That is when I discovered that the roots of nose hairs are not only attached to the flesh of the inside of your nose, but they are also anchored into a central nerve cluster located at the center of your brain. This means that the forced removal of one of these wayward dirt catchers will result in blinding pain, welling tears, a running nose and sometimes sneezing. Can I just give a big "WTF!?" at this point? I mean what is the big deal about the removal of one little nose hair that necessitates all these alarms sounding? Does the body really need that much protection for those little suckers? I really hate to question the designer of this things since I know that He is wise and powerful beyond even my wildest imaginations. But still, I have to ask, is that wiring really necessary?
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Superfluous Punctuation
Emails. Instant Messaging. Cell Phone Texting. These wonderful new additions to our modern lives add a very nice level of convenience that I truly enjoy. I particularly like the fact that I can communicate easily, cheaply and nearly instantaneously with family and friends hundreds of miles away using these devices. However, as much as I love the convenience of these mediums I really hate what has happened to the clarity of communications as we have gotten used to these devices. We use fragmented sentences, poor grammar, atrocious spelling and a host of other evils and write them off as "typos" or "from my phone" or "I was in a rush". Much more could be said on this topic of the sad state of writing in these mediums in general, but not today. Today I want to rant about a particularly vile manifestation of "internetese", the superfluous use of punctation.
Ever get an email/text/IM fragment that looked something like this?
"Hey!!!!! What you doing??????????????????"
"Can you believe that guy just ate his own wanker?!?!?!?!?!?!?!"
I have. Damnit, and far too many times. Far, far too many times. And I am sick and tired of it. Some of the offenders have been reprimanded. Unfortunately those sharp verbal rebukes have had little to no effect on behavior. *SIGH*. Therefore, I will vent my frustration in this blog post and rail against my nameless foe upon the "Interweb".
Let me just start off by saying that there is absolutely no reason or excuse for using more than one punctuation mark at the end of any single sentence. No. Just stop right there. Don't even waste time trying to think of scenarios, situations, and exceptions. THERE ARE NONE. End of story. Now, having said that, how is the writer to convey their tone and level of excitement/agitation without the now outlawed extra punctuation? I'm glad you asked. There are a number of tools in the modern writer's toolbox for expressing such things. Let's start with an example sentence and see how we might fix it up.
"Can you believe that guy just ate his own wanker?!?!?!?!?!?!?!" - all bad
1. The judicious use of capitalization. One must be careful here for fear of falling into another bad practice, that of yelling at your intended audience inappropriately. It is a widely accepted convention in internet text communications that capitalization means a raised voice or yelling.
For example:
"Can you believe that guy just ate his own WANKER?" - acceptable
"CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT GUY JUST ATE HIS OWN WANKER?" - passable, but to be avoided and only used when you really mean to scream at the audience.
2. The proper use of cuss words. A simple way to raise the tone of any sentence from flat to high is just to cuss at the audience. Watch:
"Can you believe that guy just ate his own fucking wanker?" - acceptable
3. A variation of 2 is to pseudo-cuss. Use this technique if you are a sally, jessy, ninny, panty-waste, or a wanker.
"Can you believe that guy just ate his own frigging wanker?" - acceptable, but lame
4. Italics, bolding, font size and other text formatting. Simple, elegant, and most notably not the useless repetition of a punctuation mark.
"Can you believe that guy just ate his own wanker?" - acceptable
5. The "Interrobang". Caution: this may appear at first to be a violation of the single punctuation mark rule. It is not. It is a single punctation mark formed with two characters. It is a new punctation mark created for the internet age. It is extremely powerful and the only acceptable way one may place more than one punctuation character at the end of a sentence. Regard the beauty of it:
"Can you believe that guy just ate his own fucking wanker?!" - HAWT
Ever get an email/text/IM fragment that looked something like this?
"Hey!!!!! What you doing??????????????????"
"Can you believe that guy just ate his own wanker?!?!?!?!?!?!?!"
I have. Damnit, and far too many times. Far, far too many times. And I am sick and tired of it. Some of the offenders have been reprimanded. Unfortunately those sharp verbal rebukes have had little to no effect on behavior. *SIGH*. Therefore, I will vent my frustration in this blog post and rail against my nameless foe upon the "Interweb".
Let me just start off by saying that there is absolutely no reason or excuse for using more than one punctuation mark at the end of any single sentence. No. Just stop right there. Don't even waste time trying to think of scenarios, situations, and exceptions. THERE ARE NONE. End of story. Now, having said that, how is the writer to convey their tone and level of excitement/agitation without the now outlawed extra punctuation? I'm glad you asked. There are a number of tools in the modern writer's toolbox for expressing such things. Let's start with an example sentence and see how we might fix it up.
"Can you believe that guy just ate his own wanker?!?!?!?!?!?!?!" - all bad
1. The judicious use of capitalization. One must be careful here for fear of falling into another bad practice, that of yelling at your intended audience inappropriately. It is a widely accepted convention in internet text communications that capitalization means a raised voice or yelling.
For example:
"Can you believe that guy just ate his own WANKER?" - acceptable
"CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT GUY JUST ATE HIS OWN WANKER?" - passable, but to be avoided and only used when you really mean to scream at the audience.
2. The proper use of cuss words. A simple way to raise the tone of any sentence from flat to high is just to cuss at the audience. Watch:
"Can you believe that guy just ate his own fucking wanker?" - acceptable
3. A variation of 2 is to pseudo-cuss. Use this technique if you are a sally, jessy, ninny, panty-waste, or a wanker.
"Can you believe that guy just ate his own frigging wanker?" - acceptable, but lame
4. Italics, bolding, font size and other text formatting. Simple, elegant, and most notably not the useless repetition of a punctuation mark.
"Can you believe that guy just ate his own wanker?" - acceptable
5. The "Interrobang". Caution: this may appear at first to be a violation of the single punctuation mark rule. It is not. It is a single punctation mark formed with two characters. It is a new punctation mark created for the internet age. It is extremely powerful and the only acceptable way one may place more than one punctuation character at the end of a sentence. Regard the beauty of it:
"Can you believe that guy just ate his own fucking wanker?!" - HAWT
Monday, February 4, 2008
To My Great God
To my great God who sees everything, including this.
If I were to witness the birth of a glacier; year after year of driven snow gathered and crushed into a sea of ice. If I were to watch as the seasons of its life passed from winter's frigid feasts of flurries to spring's bursting streams crying out in agony at the sun's mean gaze. If I were to see every inch it crawled and scratched across the surface of the earth. I would need to borrow the lives and eyes of a hundred men; for no human life can cover the breadth of such expanses of time. Yet for you, O God, the life of a glacier is like a day. It's entire life a speck of foam on a rushing river of time that is quickly passed and out of sight.
I cannot take the full measure of a mountain. I may mark its height in meters from the sea. I may count the distance to circle its base. I may even climb to its peak and feel its soundness with my hands and feet. But I cannot sound its solid depths. I cannot tell the contents of its every rock and vein. I do not know the number of the trees that stake their claim there. I cannot tell the rock-splitting plans of their roots. But you know, O God. You know the schedule of the storms that smash upon its heights and carry its glory one grain at a time back to the sea from whence you bade it rise long ago.
I praise you God that you are so unlike me, so other, so beyond, so holy. I praise you Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Beginning and End, Ancient of Days. The One who knows and sees everything, even this.
If I were to witness the birth of a glacier; year after year of driven snow gathered and crushed into a sea of ice. If I were to watch as the seasons of its life passed from winter's frigid feasts of flurries to spring's bursting streams crying out in agony at the sun's mean gaze. If I were to see every inch it crawled and scratched across the surface of the earth. I would need to borrow the lives and eyes of a hundred men; for no human life can cover the breadth of such expanses of time. Yet for you, O God, the life of a glacier is like a day. It's entire life a speck of foam on a rushing river of time that is quickly passed and out of sight.
I cannot take the full measure of a mountain. I may mark its height in meters from the sea. I may count the distance to circle its base. I may even climb to its peak and feel its soundness with my hands and feet. But I cannot sound its solid depths. I cannot tell the contents of its every rock and vein. I do not know the number of the trees that stake their claim there. I cannot tell the rock-splitting plans of their roots. But you know, O God. You know the schedule of the storms that smash upon its heights and carry its glory one grain at a time back to the sea from whence you bade it rise long ago.
I praise you God that you are so unlike me, so other, so beyond, so holy. I praise you Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Beginning and End, Ancient of Days. The One who knows and sees everything, even this.
Friday, February 1, 2008
REI
Readily Eating Income. That is the new phrase behind the acronym. Take a look at how an innocent little shop turned into a wallet cracker.
Start with a nice 2 ounce sanitation trowel that will be a handy weight saver for PCT2:ROTLBA, $1.95. Nice value! Next I need to get Melinda an ice-axe, $54.93. Reasonably priced and a must have for our snowshoe ascent of Mt. St. Helens we are planning in March. Likewise are two ice-axe leashes, $15.95 each. Again a reasonable price. Also needed for the Helens trip is a snow shovel, $49.95. Hmm, seems that should have been cheaper, but I have to have it. Melinda needs waterproof and warm gloves for the rain/snow conditions that are frequent in the Cascades, $44.93. These are slightly more than the Marmot ones I bought for myself a couple months back, but I actually think they are better gloves (wish I had bought these). My Marmot gloves are not heavily enough insulated for back country snowshoeing so I buy a glove liner, $10.00. I decide to get one for Melinda too just in case, $10.00. We need snow stakes for the tent for snow camping, 8 x $1.75. 50 Feet of 3mm accessory rope to be used as a bear-bag rope for PCT2 and other hikes, $9.00.
Ok, so all of that felt fine as it was going into my nice little REI carrier and toting it around the store. I knew I was spending a few bucks, but it seemed reasonable. Then I hit the cash register and they drop this bomb: $246.89. WTF!? Shit sneaks up on you.
Start with a nice 2 ounce sanitation trowel that will be a handy weight saver for PCT2:ROTLBA, $1.95. Nice value! Next I need to get Melinda an ice-axe, $54.93. Reasonably priced and a must have for our snowshoe ascent of Mt. St. Helens we are planning in March. Likewise are two ice-axe leashes, $15.95 each. Again a reasonable price. Also needed for the Helens trip is a snow shovel, $49.95. Hmm, seems that should have been cheaper, but I have to have it. Melinda needs waterproof and warm gloves for the rain/snow conditions that are frequent in the Cascades, $44.93. These are slightly more than the Marmot ones I bought for myself a couple months back, but I actually think they are better gloves (wish I had bought these). My Marmot gloves are not heavily enough insulated for back country snowshoeing so I buy a glove liner, $10.00. I decide to get one for Melinda too just in case, $10.00. We need snow stakes for the tent for snow camping, 8 x $1.75. 50 Feet of 3mm accessory rope to be used as a bear-bag rope for PCT2 and other hikes, $9.00.
Ok, so all of that felt fine as it was going into my nice little REI carrier and toting it around the store. I knew I was spending a few bucks, but it seemed reasonable. Then I hit the cash register and they drop this bomb: $246.89. WTF!? Shit sneaks up on you.
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