Google Wave looks pretty neat.

I'm not entirely sure what all Google Wave is, or what it's supposed to be used for, but I want it. It looks like I could run group projects and meetings in real time from the comfort of my own room with multiple people, which would be fantastic with the coldness of winter right on top of us. That said, if anyone has any invites that they don't know what to do with, hit me up! I'm at jcvetters@gmail.com

Out of time, unfortunately, but I should be blogging more! I've been super busy lately. Agh!

I Made My Brain Cry.

I realized about five minutes ago that there are people alive now who could have a conversation on a decently intelligent level who were not even born when the Twin Towers and the Pentagon were hit by hijacked planes. There are millions and millions of Americans who don't remember the world pre-9/11. That got me thinking, and I further realized that in my relatively short life, I've seen a lot of things happen. I watched OJ Simpson's trials on TV, saw the rise and fall of Power Rangers and Pokemon, was online when YouTube launched, watched the Towers fall, listened unknowingly to Clinton's impeachment hearings. I was around when Google became a verb, when computers became not only commercially viable but nearly standard, and when TV started going HD. I read Harry Potter when it first came out, before anyone realized it was going to be one of the highest-grossing books of all time. I listened to pop stars and boy bands and then smiled as they faded, and now I'm seeing some of those same stars come back. I was alive during the Rwandan genocide but didn't know about it. I remember hearing about Dolly the Sheep and wondering what the big deal was with cloning. I remember the Hubble telescope, not the launch but a lot of the pictures that came back, and how amazing it was to look at space. I remember Microsoft's rise, and Pentium processors, and a time before the iPod. I remember the battle between Nintendo and Sega before Sony put out the PlayStation, and I remember telling people to get out of my light when I was playing my Game Boy. I don't remember a time before color TV, before cable, or before a telephone in every house. I do remember a time before terrorism, international relations, and World of Warcraft. I look back to the movies I grew up with and I see Toy Story, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and The Sandlot. I remember when the Disney Channel showed Mickey Mouse cartoons and MTV showed music videos, though I don't remember the latter as well. I remember the premiere of Survivor, and dial-up internet, and Napster.

There are people out there with entirely different experiences. Every person who reads this will have a different take, different experiences. I am young to some, and old to others. And it's all just a part of the human experience.

My day

I went to a pet store today because I was in the area and a friend said they had puppies. Now, for those out there that know me, I am incredibly fond of dogs of nearly every breed and puppies make me happy more easily than most things I can think of off the top of my head. Needless to say, I wanted to play with some puppy dogs.

Well, I think I've matured in a way that I was not entirely prepared for.

As I walked into the store (which will remain unnamed here and in the comments, please) one of the first things I noticed was the location of the animals. Now, this is a store I had been to before and I have to say that they changed the layout. Instead of the somewhat-out-of-the-way condo-style crates along one wall, there were six moderately-sized crates sitting in the middle of the store. Each of these had a shelter dog in it, and only one was of adequate size. The breeds I remember clearly were Golden Retriever, Yellow Lab mix, and Shar Pei mix, but there were a few others and they were all big dogs, all under three years old. Two of them were INCREDIBLY wary of strangers and barked at just about everyone that walked by. Three had problems with other animals, and none of them seemed particularly happy to be there. This also seems like a good time to mention that about ten feet away from the last crate was a pen with four 10-week-old male puppies and another ten beyond that were two large cages full of not-quite-healthy cats.

One dog in particular, Jake, was the first I really noticed. As I walked in, a woman was kneeling by his crate. He barked at her, an angry bark that seemed to point to some abuse or aggression in his former life, and she backed away frightened. One of the employees started shouting at him and he turned to growl at the newcomer. I approached the cage cautiously, looked at the name on the top of it, and said, "Hey Jake. Hey buddy, what's the matter?" He looked at me and moved to the door of the crate, so I knelt down in front of it. He growled and I held out my hand, knuckles just barely inside the bars. He sniffed them, calmed down, and sat, looking at me. The employee who had shouted was still there, certainly looking to avoid some sort of lawsuit if I was bitten, but his presence wasn't quite helpful. Jake didn't seem to like him. I put some of my fingers in the cage and, after looking back at what was probably one of the only consistent human pieces of his day (the employee, of course) he licked my hand. He was calm for a while, which I used to look at the other animals. The cats were in bad shape and honestly the only happy animals were the puppies who looked like they had been brought in by a breeder. They had also been freshly neutered, but that's a completely different story (and I fully support spaying and neutering your pets).

I returned to the shelter dogs after a while and spent the rest of my time with one, a beautiful Lab mix named Daisy. Daisy was eight months old and a little skinnier than she probably should have been, but she was growing well and was full of that unbridled puppy energy. She pushed herself against one side of the cage and I started to pet her. She liked the attention and was wonderfully calm in moments. Another employee (not the kind of scary guy who yelled at Jake) approached me and indicated a few leashes and said, "You can get her out if you want. That's the calmest I've seen her all day." I thanked her and did something that I now regret: I opened up the crate and got Daisy out.

She was, of course, rambunctious upon release, but once I got the leash on her and got her into the large play area she was a happy camper. Now, as far as dogs go, Daisy was not the prettiest or the healthiest or the anything-iest. She was a shelter dog, and a young one at that. She would probably end up making some family very happy. She made me pretty happy for the five minutes I spent playing with her, watching her sniff and explore. The time came, though, when I had to take her back to the crate. Of course, she didn't want to go back in and it took another minute or so just to maneuver her inside. I was probably a little to gentle, and it ended up being Yelling Employee who grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and pushing her in. I gave her one last look before thanking the employees and leaving the store.

Now, on to why I said I regret doing that. Seeing those six dogs in that situation, being stuck in that big cold space in those stark, industrial crates, crammed in with animals that were unhealthy and people who didn't know what to do with them, I made a decision that I think I will try to honor more than any other I've ever made. I will never personally get a puppy from a breeder. I will never buy a puppy from a pet store. I might take a puppy from someone who didn't spay his dog and has no clue what to do with the litter, but I am pretty much only going to have shelter dogs. I will also likely have a dog any time I can financially support it and live in a place that allows pets. There are too many dogs out there who don't have good homes, and they deserve a happy life with good people to care for them.

I love my puppies at home and wouldn't trade them for the world, but getting puppies seems like a futile exercise to me at this point in my life. Puppies are great for little kids who can grow up with them and if you want to get one and train it that's wonderful. But, please, if you're thinking about getting a dog, go to the Humane Society, check out your local shelter or pound, and consider bringing home one of the millions of dogs that don't have another chance.

This is the Humane Society's national site, and here is a site that has adoption listings. I wanted to provide those, just in case...

Just a tiny post.

So I don't have a lot to say at the mo', but I felt like posting something anyway. I know, I know, quality over quantity, but that's not really the point of a blog, now, is it?

I wonder what it's like to dance on the moon. Who wants to go to the moon with me? We shall tango and salsa and watlz and do the Mashed Potato.

That's all.

Ten reasons I hate Naruto

1- it's a Really Bad Dub. Poorly edited and dumbed down for American youth. Actually, this bothers me about a lot of Americanized anime in general. Too often a crap company like 4Kids Entertainment gets hold of the rights to something that, in its original format, could deal with some mature themes and sensical storylines. However, as is referenced in this comic, the American company has a tendency to strip away character development and storylines with meaning in favor of marketability and Fox. When it comes to Naruto, let me simply preface my experience with the series by saying that I own the first seven volumes of the manga and have seen the episodes of the anime that corelate with what I've read. Maybe they did it in the original anime, too, but it is WAY kid-gloved, even in the first story arc. People die in that series, a lot, and I don't think I remember one moment of actual thought toward what was going on in the show. Everything was glossed over. "Oh, he's not dead, he just went away for a long time after being stabbed in 37 places."
2- those damn headbands. They look stupid and people buy them anyway. Seriously, you are not a ninja by putting a metal plate on a piece of cloth and wearing it around. Actually, the costumes in general bother me. No ninja would wear fluorescent orange, for one thing, and it's impossible to get any reading on the time period because while half of the characters look like 12-century rejects, the rest are planted firmly in the 1980s or the middle of the Emo craze.
3- terrible voice acting. I don't care what the Japanese OVA sounded like, cast for both character accuracy and a palateable voice. This bothers me the most in the title character. "SAUCE-KAY. HEY, SAUCE-KAY! LET'S GO KICK SOME BUTT! HAH HAH HAH!" I want to punch whoever it was that did that voice, and whoever cast her.
4- an unbelievable world. I can suspend disbelief pretty easily, but a bunch of magical 15-year-old ninjas running around murdering people in a weird hybrid of fantasy and modern fiction is just odd. They watch TV and ride giant frogs into battle. What? This also ties into the costume thing.
5- the ridiculous fandom. Everyone from nine to ninety seems to know somebody who is crazy about this crap. Seriously. And the ones who absolutely love it will tell you ALL ABOUT IT. Twice. A day.
6- the fighting. I don't care how much "ninpo" you have, you don't block a four inch blade with another four inch blade. It's stupid and impractical. And yet, all these little kid ninjas are running around having kunai-knife fights like it's a poorly-choreographed community theatre West Side Story up in here.
7- those hand signs. "Hold on guys, gotta focus my Ki and make some shadow puppets!" Honestly, this doesn't bother me in the show. It's the 12-year-old kid who thinks he can whip out some Sexy no jutsu of he just twists his fingers the right way.
8- jutsu in general. Jutsu in Japanese is a prefix that typically means "the art/ way of." So, bijutsu (美術) is the art of making art, and ninjutsu (忍術) is the way of the ninja. I'm no ninja expert (more of a pirate guy) but I feel like both the writers and translators just kind of go nuts with the whole jutsu thing.
9- Sasuke. I hate that little emo kid. Seriously, it's the whole "oh my gosh look at the brooding quiet guy every woman in the series has to fall in love with him despite his almost complete lack of expression because he's just SO HOT!" thing. See also: Edward Cullen.
10- the hype. People treat (or at least did the last time I thought about caring) Naruto like it's some sort of god-given anime that should be cherished. And maybe it is pretty decent, I only watched a few episodes. But I will tell you this: it's no Rurouni Kenshin, Cowboy Bebop, or Ghost in the Shell.

So, yeah, I've got some issues. But whatever, everybody has their own likes and dislikes. I'm not saying that if you like the series I won't like you, I'll justask you to refrain from talking about it with me. That is all.

Zombie Apocalypse Survival Point #1

I present to you this video that I saw on Boing Boing, one of the most popular blogs on the entirety of the net. Take a moment to watch it, if you will.

Now, what did you get from that? Kind of a freaky thought, eh? Disease-laden mosquitoes zipping around, reproducing wildly in our unused swimming pools and causing major health risks. Now, unless you happen to be unlucky enough to be around a lot of foreclosed homes with pools, this isn't a major risk to you as we slip into the autumn and winter months. In fact, there's no guarantee that it will become a major problem in more than a few concentrated areas.

There is one application of this hazard that I doubt many others have thought about, though. It's something that's on my mind a lot. I'm talking, of course, about a zombie apocalypse.

In almost every source of zom-pocalypse fiction, the survivors of the outbreak have to deal with the zombies themselves as well as looters, food and supply shortages, insanity, and the occasional thought of repopulation. What they rarely have to deal with, though, is disease. Think about it. Millions, if not billions, of walking corpses, shambling around and rotting at various levels of severity and not cleaning their pools. Mosquitoes use the pools as breeding grounds and populations skyrocket. Natural wildlife starts to die off due to disease, much of it transferred from the infected to mosquitoes to animals. These tiny insects would be terrifyingly dangerous to survivors, because a zombie infection is often transferred through bodily fluid if not only by a bite. Looking beyond even the thought of mosquito-zombification, there are still normal diseases to worry about just as much. Those don't really go away. West Nile and Lime Disease become as threatening to survivors in mild climates as the infected themselves, as do the animals potentially infected by bugs with any number of diseases on their own. So now the last survivors of humanity are restricted even farther as to where they are safe, how they can prepare, and where they can go.

This is, of course, suspending disbelief and expecting survivors to still be around after a couple months. Looking at a zombie outbreak realistically (this is where a healthy suspension of disbelief comes into play), the most important thing aside from containment would be eliminating outside threats. Pools and man-maintained bodies of standing water would have to continue to be maintained, a time-consuming and sometimes difficult process.

I think I'm doing my part here and now to save the world, one zombie apocalypse theory for survival at a time.

The Confines of Realized Fiction

Loss and darkness and the chill of space

Frozen, lonely, losing face

Breaking dawn turns skies to red

With dreams of you leaving my head

Understanding fates of men

I never knew I can begin

To see the consequence of sin

And lose myself down here within

The confines of realized fiction

The voices call from Babylon

Upon the winds I thought were gone

And as the bombs fall all around

I grasp at the escaping ground

Falling out of human grace

And writhing from your god's embrace

To settle in a warmer place

Where with my mind I can erase

The confines of realized fiction

Lacrimosa dies ilia

Qua resurget ex favilla

Judicandus homo reus

Huic ergo parce, Deus

But you know I do not ask

The man behind the fading mask

Forgiveness from his molding cask

I have my own sacramental flask

In the confines of realized fiction

Kick off your shoes and sit with me

On the throne of what could never be

And shake these tattered dreams away

That I may live another day

In the confines of realized fiction

So obviously I'm switching up the format of this blog a bit. Hadn't posted in a while, so I figured that now and then I'd post some lyrics or poetry or silly lists or whatever I had on hand at the time and still try for the daily thing, just without set topics. Hope you enjoy, and yes, I did write this and it does belong to me. Please to not repost or use without my permission.

August 28, 2009; In which I create Terrible Sequel Subtitles (Part 1)

So, I feel like making subtitles to sequels of movies that don't exist. So, here I go!

Mystery Men 2: Rise of the Spleen

No Country For Older Men

Memento 2: Lost in Disneyland

Galaxy Quest 2: Galaxy Questier

Jumanji 2, or Robin Williams Screams at CG Elephants for Ninety Minutes

Finding Nemo 2: Finding Dory

Flipper 2-na

Dawn of the Dead 2: Tea-time of the Dead

Equilibrium 2: More Crazy Gun-Fu Action

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon 2, or Squating Llama, Concealed Orangutan

Van Helsing 2 (Actually, this should happen.)

That's all for now.

August 27, 2009; In which I talk about 3-D

It seems lately that there's a trend in movies where everything is moving to yet another "D." HD is passe now, it seems, and we're venturing into the brave new realm of 3-D! Amazing! The picture pops right off the screen! It's like the future!

Or... like 1995. Seriously. I haven't been around all that long, but I remember when a lot of the kids' movies were doing the whole "Now in 3-D!" thing. I remember walking into a theater and putting on the paper glasses with the red and blue celophane lenses and being amazed at how the things seemed to come right at me. It was simply astounding. Now, though, the trick seems a bit dry. Granted, I have not seen any of this new wave of 3-D movies, so I'm not sure if it's still as grainy and weirdly done as the old ones are. With the new digital projectors the picture is crisper, everything seems to look better than real life. But how good can it be?

Mmm...... I don't think I have much more to say about it. Maybe I'll have more of an opinion when I actually see what's going on with that. Yup.

August 25, 2009; In which it is my birthday

Twenty-one years ago today, I was born.

Twenty-one years ago today, I had no idea who I would be after twenty full years of life. I had no concept of life, or time, or goals, or friendship or family or love or even concepts themselves. I had my basic needs. I ate, I slept, I pooped, I smiled at the nice people who took care of me and I cried when they weren't doing it fast enough or in the exact right way that only a baby or someone with a wicked insight or instinct can understand.

When you think about it, all of us have infinite potential at the moment of our birth. Well, maybe not infinite. I don't think anyone is going to spring fully-grown from the womb then start break dancing and reciting the Magna Carta in Swahili, but short of intense improbabilities we aren't all that limited at the beginning. Look at any baby. It could be a president, an astronaut, an engineer, a rock star, a lion tamer, a burger flipper, a parent, a doctor, just about anything you can think of. From the first choice we make, though, we limit ourselves more and more to a specific path. Usually, by the time a child is in his early teens, his path has probably already been largely decided. The rest is just walking it. And yet, occasionally, despite every choice that limits us and focuses us and directs us into whatever endeavours we'll end up in for most of our lives, the rare choice can open more doors than it closes.

No, I don't have an example in mind. I'm just talking about possibility.

I guess I could go into worldlines and dimensional theories to further illustrate that point, but there's no need. What I'm really meaning to say is pretty simple. As I look back along the lines of the last twenty years, I find that, in general, I'm pretty happy with where I've ended up. I've made some bad choices in the past, but I'd bet you that there's no one in the world who can honestly say that they never made a bad choice. I live with almost no regrets, I'm doing something I love, and I've still got some good long years (hopefully) ahead of me. Life is good. Happy birthday to me.

August 23, 2009; In which I distract myself

I can't figure out what it is about today. Or, rather, there's so much contributing to today that I can't derive the main factors involved. Ingrid Michaelson is on my Pandora station singing about giving up, I'm looking at a dull grey sky that threatens to shower us yet again with cold drizzling rain, I'm unexpectedly out of work, I have about a dozens things that need to be done before tomorrow, my 20th birthday is in a couple days, and the work I put in yesterday had no discernable affect. So here I am, looking on bright sides and keeping my chin up. But my eyes are tired and my neck is cramping, so I'm moving on to the most reliable thing I've got: Escapism.

And yet I can't do it. So here's this emo blog post, whining about how I'm so boohoo right now and can't take my mind off of these temporary setbacks. But, in a way, I think I should be allowed a little time to dwell on things. I've always tried to be eternally optimistic, but I'm realising that I have little to no connection to my "negative" emotions. I don't get angry often, and when I do it's almost always vicariously through a character. I rarely allow myself to feel sad, so I end up in this weird funk of ennui for a day at a time instead of an hour or two of good, cathartic sadness. I carry a lot of tension in my neck and shoulders but I don't notice it until I get feeling like this, because that's when more tension is added.

I can't wait for classes to start.

August 22, 2009; In which I make wild assumptions for no real reason

I have always hated ants. I hate them so much, for a few reasons that make sense and one particular reason that is kind of insane but terrifies me. I will tell you now how I feel.

Reason one for why I hate ants: There are freakin' billions of them. Seriously. Under the ground, wherever you are, right now, there are thousands. That goes for basically everywhere you are at any given time. All they have to do is start eating through the foundations of our buildings and we are superbly doomed. So, basically, they have the strength in numbers.

Reason number two for my undying hatred: They're crafty. You never know where they'll be or what they'll do. Take that box of cereal out of your cupboard and BAM! There's like, twenty tiny ants right under it, trying to eat your Apple Jacks. Step outside and right there, right on your front porch or doorstep or sidewalk, BOOM! Gigantic killer ant. There are so many kinds, and they are EVERYWHERE. EVERYWHERE.

Reason three: Hive mind. That's just creepy. One mind for thousands and thousands of potentially individual bodies? What happens if you kill the queen? If you move her, the rest follow unless another queen takes over. Seriously. That's true. Kill it and the rest might frenzy, just go freakin' nuts and start eating people. Ants will eat your babies.

Reason four, and this one is the irrational one: Ants are the most likely successors after humans as the creatures that will rule this planet. Seriously, those little creeps are smarter than they let on. We need to kill them all. Now. Before they kill us.

This paranoid rant is brought to you by me. So, NYAH!

August 21, 2009; In which I make a triumphant return

I'm back at school and I have my computer working again. I have an audition tonight and I'm gaming with some of my best friends afterward, whenever that afterward may be. Life is good. But you didn't come to hear me talk about how awesome it is to be me. You came for quasi-insightful and seemingly intellectual posts about silly things, right? Well, let me hit you with this shot. Today's topic that I will quickly cover (I only have about forty-five minutes until I should be at the audition) is conception. No, no, not the act of creating a new bumpity life form in some lady's womb after a rambunctious night of get-thee-down-ing. I mean the conceptions that people have of themselves, of each other, and of life in general. And since this blog is usually a first-person experience, mostly my conceptions about myself, the people around me, and the world I live in.

Despite how I may seem at times, I can be a little insecure about my appearance. And I'm going to guess that, sometimes, just maybe, you can too. Guys! This is perfectly normal! We are people and we are used to seeing beautiful things and people lifted onto the pedastal of greatness for their sheer beauty alone! Look at the Grand Canyon, or a rainbow, or Megan Fox! The point I'm tryingto make is, while we can't all be Megan Fox, everybody has something going for them. Maybe you've got bad skin and a really awkward body type, but hey! You have great eyes and your smile is pretty nice! Or maybe you're a little heavier than you want to be, but DAMN do you have great hair! I bet there's something pretty awesome about everybody, and that's not just optimism! That's statistics and probability, baby. There are dozens of aspects of the human body and appearance that make up attractiveness. There's no way that none of yours are good! Example: I have bad skin (most of the time) and I'm bonier than a starving wildebeast, but I sometimes come across as charming and I have been told that I have a good smile. This makes me pretty okay with me!

Our conceptions of other people can be a little more complex. Sometimes your first impression about somebody can be totally awesome but they turn out to be a major jerk. Well, that could be due to a number of reasons. Maybe they know how to hide their flaws at first impressions, so they seem really cool. Or maybe you don't have enough life experience dealing with people like that so you couldn't see them for who they really were. Oh, yeah, and the opposite of what I said is also totally possible. See that big scary goth dude over in the corner of the library, reading Edgar Allen Poe and muttering what very well may be backwards Latin? Go talk to him. Guess what? He loves kittens almost as much as you do, and listens to your favorite band. You even have a similar taste in movies! He may seem scary and foreboding, but that's due to any number of factors that probably have no bearing on personal truth or reality!

Speaking of truth and reality, the theory has been put out there that nobody else is real except for me. I don't like that, for this one very specific reason: If you are all figments of my imagination, my life is not nearly cool enough! If my perception is all that makes up my reality, and I can think up things like Star Wars or The Matrix in movie form, or any work of creativity or fiction ever created, for that matter, why do I not have a jetpack, lightsaber, and magic powers? Why can't I dodge bullets, and then have numerous opportunities DAILY to show my awesome abilities? I am not a supoer hero, therefore you all must be real. If you weren't all bound to the same plane of reality I am, what would be stopping me? Probably my conception of what reality is and the deep-rooted psychological blocks that stop me from really being able to believe in magic and ghosts and zombies and super-sentient killer robots from the future. And, while all of those things would be awesome, they also kill stuff. And killing stuff isn't cool, unless you plan on eating it. But hey, zombies and robots! Don't take that to mean killing people is all right so long as you eat them! That's not cool, and then I'll have to whip out the EMP shotguns and laser chainsaws and have at yee.

What was I talking about?

July 26, 2009; In which I concede defeat

So, I am totally not going to do a true daily blog. I've decided that six days a week is plenty and I like one night off. That said, this counts as an entry and real entries will be back tomorrow! Ha ha!!

June 24, 2009; In which I review a movie

Tonight I went and saw Gerard Butler and Katherine Hiegel in The Ugly Truth, and to be perfectly frank, I enjoyed it.

The premise is pretty simple. It's a romantic comedy about an uptight network TV producer and a brash, over-the-top commentator whose favorite topic is relationship advice between men and women. He's the man's man, loud and confident and not afraid to tell it how it is. She's the control-freak professional woman with a checklist for how she wants her man. Hilarity is bound to ensue.

Without giving away too much of the plot, which is actually pretty smart and keeps the viewer very involved, most of the story center's around Abby (Hiegel's uptight but sexy character) trying to win over Collin, the sexy doctor next door. With the help of Mike (Butler), the host of "The Ugly Truth," she makes herself into what every guy wants.

The best characters in the film are, by far, the two anchors on Abby's show. They are absolutely hilarious in every interaction, and nearly all of their scenes made me laugh out loud.

Overall the whole film is well-written and well-acted. If you're looking for something funny that will make you feel good, I suggest it. Go see.

July 23, 2009; In which I discuss things everyone should already know

Blu-Ray. What is it? What's it do? What's it good for? Why should anyone care at all?

Allow me to tell you.

Blu-Ray is the disc format that "won" the high definition war, and is also the format that Playstation 3 games are printed on. I use the term printed lightly, but you get what I mean. Now, as for the competition (read "everything else") there exists almost exclusively the DVD. Whether it's the DVD-5, a five gigabyte disc, or a DVD-9, the becoming-more-common nine gig disc, neither one has nearly as much space as the Blu-Ray disc (twenty-five gigabytes of space on a single-layered disc, fifty for a double). Now you have a very basic understanding of that. And, we move on to the questions I presented above.

What does a BD-DVD do that a regular DVD doesn't? Well, aside from high definition video and massive space, Blu-Ray allows for a much more interactive movie experience. Most Blu-Ray movies have an interactive in-film menu that lets you open it while you watch to change any setting on the fly, or watch with an enhanced experience through various features. Movies aside, the real kicker comes in gaming. On a Blu-Ray disc, there are up to fifty gigabytes of space for content. That means the high definition, expansive, massive worlds that are created go onto a Blu-Ray with much less compression and a much easier-to-read format. As games get bigger, with more to the experience and intensely massive content, it can take multiple DVDs to hold one game as opposed to one Blu-Ray.

Why should you care? Maybe you shouldn't. If you aren't a gamer or a movie-lover, it probably means nothing at all to you. If you like movies or games or tech, then you probably already know most of the stuff I just wrote, and that's great. Buuuuuut... That's about it. That's all I gotta say.

July 22, 2009; In which I discuss belief

Sometimes I see something or hear something that gets me thinking, and I can't get it out of my head. If I'm lucky it's chainsaw swords or other fun things like that. If I'm not so lucky, it's something that I really can't do anything about. Today it was a faith/ religion-related bit... I saw a T-shirt for the Creation Museum. Now, I had heard about this establishment before, and the very idea of it is strange to me. I have nothing against religion or creation theories, but one of the things I've heard about this particular venue is that it features displays of humans and dinosaurs walking together.

Okay, I should have said this before, but the following might be a little offensive. I will try to keep it as completely civil as I can, but this is an issue that, try as I might, I cannot be fair and balanced on.

I am not religious, though I was raised Roman Catholic. My mom is a science teacher, so I had a very open line of dialogue with both religious and scientific origin theories. I was exposed to a lot of them, everything from Adam and Eve to a giant turtle to the Big Bang to the seven days = four billion years idea to Amaterasu and all that falls in between. There aren't many lines of thought on that road that I haven't at least looked down. I have to say, though, that while I don't know how we started I am pretty sure, in my own mind, what didn't happen. I cannot personally believe that a being created the whole Earth and everything on it at the same time, and it's been around for only a few measly millennia. It just seems so contradictory to modern thoughts and scientific findings to me that my mind automatically pushes it into the "blather" pile, despite the fact that I know some people who believe this and they are all wonderful and kind human beings.

I can understand creationists who say that fossils were planted by God to test our faith. That at least makes some sense, albeit a very warped kind of sense that makes me nod my head and mutter something about "mysterious ways." It is easy for me to imagine that whatever creator, be it God or the universe's infinite probability or what have you, started this planet's formation with the necessary factors to create life and thus life evolved in the forms we know today over hundreds and hundreds of millions of years. I cannot understand how so much science can just be ignored. If humans walked with dinosaurs why aren't they mentioned in the Bible? Why don't we see crude paintings of T-Rex's in caves? Why are they buried under millions of years of sediment while our oldest human remains date back no more than two million years and even those are questionably homo sapien?

I think I should end this before I go too far, and some might say I've done that already. Others will say I didn't go far enough, but this is my stopping point. I will leave you with this thought:

I understand faith. I understand believers. What I do not understand is the need to warp the world to your own beliefs instead of embracing that your dogma, whatever it is, was laid down by people who didn't know everything there was to know. Humans are by nature fallible, but we cannot fault ourselves for it. We seek answers because of this ability to be wrong, because we need to be right. Just know when to accept that right for a thousand years ago and right for today might not be the same.

And who knows? Maybe I'm the one who's wrong.

July 21, 2009; In which I infer news from a headline

So I saw today that Obama and the Senate have decided to discontinue production of the F-22 Raptor fighter jet. I look at this with mixed feelings, as both a practical thinker and a fan of high-tech stuff that makes things go boom. First, a few things about the Raptor.

I'm no expert on military or Air Force tech, but it's not hard to know that the F-22 is one of the most advanced pieces of hardware in the world. This thing can practically fly itself, and with a skilled pilot it is a devastating weapon against anything in the air, on land, or on sea. It's also one of the most expensive pieces of ordnance in our current military line-up, and not quite necessary or practical when we are so far beyond our enemies in everyday combat. In this current day and age, with brushfire wars fought against insurgencies with Kalashnikovs and C-4, air superiority is more about accurate and concise bombing than moving at mach three and firing heat-seeking missiles that can rip a MIG apart in less than two seconds.

Looking at the decision practically, I have to agree with the bureaucrats on this one. The Raptor, while being extremely awesome, is impractical. We're moving more and more toward peace between nations, and most of the groups we fight couldn't buy a squad of fighters, much less the armaments and maintenance and pilots and runways to put them in the air. There will be no more dogfights, no more air battles in our day unless something in the geopolitical sphere gets way out of whack. I think that's pretty easy to see, and the guys on top are betting on diplomacy. Maintaining complete military superiority would be great, but there isn't a lot of need for it if the battles stop.

That's about all I've got to say right now. I might say more later about planes, politics, firepower, and combat, and that sort of thing, but for now I've said my piece.

July 20, 2009; In which I gripe about computers

Recently I sent my Sony Vaio laptop into Best Buy, the location from whence it was purchased, because it was malfunctioning at a level that basically prohibited use. I expected the problem to be easily solved by the experts there, but since it wasn't under a Best Buy warranty they could do nothing but ship it out to Sony for them to fix. I had told them that the problem was likely in motherboard, seeing as I had reformatted the hard drive and checked the memory, the other likely cuprits for the problems I was experiencing. It was about three or four weeks before I actually got the computer back.

Lo and behold, there was no change. I found out later that the only work the Sony technicians had done on it was to check the memory and reformat the hard drive. They didn't look at anything else, just saw that those components were working and sent it back. So, of course, my computer is still in basically the same state it was in before. I called their customer service and was walked through a system diagnosis that failed, because my computer characteristically froze in the middle of doing absolutely anything. So I was told that I would be contacted when a technician could get to me.

That was last week. Here's hoping I'll have a working laptop by the time I go back to school, eh? But I'm not complaining. I still have the home desktop to work from, and it functions just fine.

Except that now the monitor is flashing oddly, and my preferred browsers (Google Chrome and Firefox) don't seem to work anymore, and there have been more problems with the home wireless network than I can shake a stick at...

Basically, I've decided that computers don't like me. They'll put up with me for a short while, but prolonged exposure seems to get them feeling a little suicidal. This is quite a change from the past few years, when I seemed to be the go-to computer guy around the house. Funny how things change with time...

This post is going up a little late, and I missed Sunday, but it was only hopefully daily in the first place, so NEH!!

July 18, 2009; In which I cannot post from my iPhone, and must make a blank post

July 17, 2009; In which I blather on for a while about various things

Date: Friday, July 17, 2009

Time: 10:07 PM

Location: My family room computer

Listening to: My Pandora radio stations/ Quick Mix

Mood: Wistful

I just got my ass whooped by my father in a game of Risk, and I had a great time. See, it's been so long since I sat down and played a board game that I forgot how fun it is, not just playing the game, but actually sitting around a table with a few fun people and laughing, smiling, scowling, cursing, and shouting about whatever happens to be happening. It truly is an amazing thing. I will have to take some board games back to school when I go.

My brother has a couple friends over at the moment and they're playing Mario Kart. That's pretty much my favorite game on the Wii right now. It's actually fun. Continuing on the video game track, I'm kind of a PlayStation fanboy. I can recognize the various merits of the other systems, but when it comes right down to my own opinion on gaming I think the Triple is the best system on the market.

I love making paper airplanes. Most of them don't fly, though. I mostly make them to see what wacky designs I can come up with, just because I enjoy crafting and creating. It's a simple and quick little project that I can whip out at any time.

I believe they're shouting about Kenyans on the floor below me. I am mildly amused.

Warranties are great. I recently ripped the cord out of a pair of expensive headphones and got them replaced, along with a new warranty. I am headphone-prtected for the next two years and that's awesome.

Honestly, I have nothing of any importance to say. When I started this I couldn't decide if it would be a journal or just a place for me to post little essays, journals, sweet nothings...

I wish I was a superhero. I think I'll write a whole post on superheroes soon.

I have plans for this thing, I really do... Right now I'm just getting myself into the habit of blogging every night. Don't worry, meaningful content will probably start up next week. As for this weekend, I'll be playing a gig tomorrow night and possibly on a boat on Sunday, so expect early entries.

That's all I've got. I'm gonna go and play Mario Kart with some kids two to four years my juniors and have an absolutely silly time of it. Don't judge!

July 16, 2009; In which I craft a somewhat rushed entry because I may not be home later

Today is a glorious day in my hometown. Or, rather, the beginning of this week was the glorious bit and I'm coming into it a bit late. Why all the glory, you ask? Well, it's really quite simple. My fair little city has once again been graced by the presence of Taco Bell.

Between my going back to school after Spring Break and my return home for the summer, the Taco Bell that had stood for so long in our illustrious town was completely torn down, with construction starting on a new building rather quickly. This construction lasted an extremely long time. Now, while I am not the biggest Taco Bell fan in the world, I do occasionally enjoy some good fake Mexican food (though I'm not a fan of the authentic stuff, surprisingly). I've been waiting a few days to actually make my triumphant return to the prodigal store due to massive lines every time I drive by the place.

No, I am not kidding. This Taco Bell must have repaid the entire cost of construction within the first day of reopening, because they haven't had a slow moment. Apparently the people around here really missed cheap tacos.

I wish I had more for you, but if I'm going to get a taco and get to rehearsal (which I might talk about tomorrow) I gotta run! See you tomorrow!

July 15, 2009; In which I contemplate the English language

In less than ninety minutes I will be going to a rehearsal I am honestly not entirely prepared for, and my biggest concern at the moment is that my tushy feels a little damp and I think someone may have spilled something in this chair.

And now my biggest concern is the word "spilled." I am wondering if it should be spilled or spilt. In fact, I think my topic for the day is going to be grammar, and the differences between American English and British (or, "The Queen's") English. And I will point out now that I am doing no additional research, because I don't feel like it.

Aside from small differences in regional dialect, including accents and colloquials, there are a lot of things that make the two English languages legitimately different while remaining fundamentally the same. Take, for example, the spelling of many words. Grey versus gray, aluminium versus aluminum, colour versus color, and so on and so on. Then just look at the different names for common items. What we in America call "potato chips" are refered to as "crisps" across the pond, and our "cookies" are their "biscuits." A lorry in England is a truck, but they have trucks too. Where are our lorries?

Of course, one must wonder at times why the languages seem so different when it's really pretty much the same? I imagine the reason for the differences go something like this:

Back when the colonies broke off and became the States and Britain started looking at this new country like some backwater hootenany that got lucky in a little war, the only way to communicate between the continents was through a long trans-oceanic voyage. So, between America's independence and the invention of the telephone (or radio, or basically anythiing that actually transmitted voice over long distances), the two cultures were allowed to evolve their dialects however they pleased. Other factors included industry, education, science, and immigration. Industry and science both introduced new words to the language constantly, and it could be months before word reached the other country. In that time, the spelling or pronunciation of the words often changed slightly without the other nation finding out for more months, even years. Education levels also contributed, as lower-educated areas often had simplified spellings of words (thru instead of through, or at least I like to think that's the reason). Finally, as immigrants flooded the States, they brought with them their own languages and cultures that didn't factor in as much as in Britain.

Aaaaand, that's why the languages are different.

Was I going somewhere with that?

July 14, 2009; In which I discuss socks.

It is eleven o'clock at night on July 14th and my mind is wandering. Let me start by saying that the fact I have told you even that much is something of an accomplishment. As much as I fancy myself a writer, I have what might be the worst track record for finished projects in the history of people who frequently use the words "track record" and write about it... And let me continue by saying that it is an accomplishment because I plan to update this blog with something every day. But, as it is Hopefully Daily, this is not a guarantee.

Anyway, back to my wandering mind.

It is a truly unremarkable date. Save the fact that seven is half of fourteen and it just so happens to be Bastille Day (which applies to me not at all), the fourteenth of July means nothing to me.

And so neither does my topic for the day. My topic is socks.

Did you ever think about socks? I mean really sit down and give them some good brainspace? Until I was loading probably a hundred of them into the washing machine, I didn't. It got me thinking about what they are, where they came from, and why we persistently wear them. Allow me to take that piece by piece.

Socks are, in their most basic state, little cloth bags for your feet. They keep your feet marginally warmer than just shoes and provide a buffer between your skin and the often-abrasive inside of conventional footwear. They also collect all of the grime and foot-sweat so your shoes stink just a little bit less at the end of the day. And they get no respect. Other than hanging stockings up for Santa Claus, I was never raised to respect my socks. I never appreciated them. They were just there. Dirty or clean barely even mattered most of the time, because I was a child and kids simply aren't allowed to think about things like how clean their clothes are. Now that I am a little older, though, I like to think I take better care of my preliminary footwear.

Socks have been around basically as long as clothes, for the simple reason that a long long time ago some dude's feet got cold and scratched up. SO, he took a bit of animal skin and some ropey-type twine made from plant fibers and made himself a foot-bag. He probably referred to it as such, as well. Actually, more likely, it was probably a woman who invented this first sock, looking at her mate Ugoogoo's worn and disgusting feet. Ugoogoo was mocked and ridiculed relentlessly, until the other women of his little nomadic hunting tribe forced their male counterparts to wear the foot-bags as well. Over the next few centuries, the sock grew to be more refined, eventually being made from more comfortable materials following the invention of the shoe. By this point, thousands of people had all independently discovered or been told of socks, shoes, galoshes, and other footwear. There are socks in nearly every society, or at least every society worth noting. Show me one civilization that survived without socks! You can't! They're all dead now, from colds they got by stomping about in the winter with no socks on!

All right, about half of that was pure fabrication, but socks really have been around for a long time. I even have a source! It's this website!

Now, why do people wear socks? If you ask me, it's both a societal norm and a practical thing to do. Socks are inexpensive and prevent blisters, as well as keep your feet warm. What's not to like? Just, please, do not wear them with sandals. I'm all for tackiness, but that's just wrong.

Well, an unremarkable topic for an unremarkable day, but it's my first topic for my first day. Peace out, and see you tomorrow!