Woody Cavenaugh

Saturday was the day set aside to find the exact location the shooter was standing. I was thinking of putting it off due to the impending weather, but when the guns started blasting in the same location I expected the shooter to be standing I couldn't help myself. I put on a coat and hat as it was sleeting, and with pistol in one hand and axe in the other I went down to the river to see what I could see.

Sara, who will always be the smart one, opted to stand on the back deck with the telescope and try to do the more logical thing.

It was a little eerie walking around and having high powered bullets wizzing in the trees over my head. I made up my mind right then to put up some no hunting signs. I never could lay my eyes on the exact position they were shooting from. I suspect they were in the trees on the other side of the field. I thought of going up and getting a rifle with a scope and trying to find them but then I realized that if they saw me looking for them before I could find them then I would definately be shot. At least I am smart enough not to load a gun I am only using for its scope, but the don't know that. They also might not care either.

I now have five signs that all read (after some editing by Sara):
POSTED
Private Property
Shooting our home, our dogs, us, just shooting in our general direction, hunting, fishing, trapping or tresspassing for any purpose is strictly forbidden violators will be prosecuted.
Then we filled in the blanks with our name and address so if anyone would like to argue with me, I can show them the holes. Did I mention that there are multiple holes?

Oh yeah, Sara and I saw something higher up and so I got a ladder and had a look. A bullet entered the house higher and to the right of the first hole. It hit a screw in the siding which absorbed most of its energy and so the bullet didn't penetrate the drywall on the inside. I can see the place where it would have come through though. It is on an interior seem and pushed out a strip of wood used to cover the seem. As I am sitting in my chair it is about a foot over my head.
So that makes two definate bullet holes and one possible bullet hole. I still haven't crawled under the house to try to figure out if I could find a bullet that corresponds with the hole in the underpinning.

Posted by at 10:14 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

This was the last straw. I have been good, I have more or less kept my mouth shut. I didn't want to be the first group placed in a concentration camp by the Radical Conservatives but I must speak my mind. And if the radical conservatives come for me I won't go down without a fight. My struggle will be biblical in proportion.

I am every week amazed and appalled as the Radical Conservatives attack one thing after another in an attempt to make their beliefs law in a government founded on deistic principals. Our founding father's were all raging deist, and they weren't idiots either.

You want to make a law so that legal marriage is only between men and women. You say you want to do this to preserve the sanctity of marriage. If you can't get it right how do you expect a law to help you? Sanctity of marriage with a 40+ percent divorce rate??? Who are you kidding? You've got a lot of nerve trying to say what is and what isn't "Sanctity of Marriage" when you have that kind of divorce rate. I think the real reason that the Radical Conservatives are trying to control who is allowed to get married has nothing to do with the sanctity of anything other than perhaps their pride. I believe that if the non-breeders were allowed into some sort of legal bond their divorce rate would be much lower.

There is a guy who works at UNCG and preaches at some small church who in the January 22 2005 Greensboro News and Record talks about "women = sin". Dude? According to King James the only woman in the bible who wasn't a "whore" was a virgin "divinely impregnated" if some girl in his church got pregnet and claimed not to have had sex he would not call her "divinely impregnated". Based on my reading of his article he would chain her to a wall naked and stone her to death. I am shocked by the number of people who hide behind the bible as a shield against sin. Jim Baker comes to mind as an example.

In the bible God is credited with 10 Commandments and the average thumper has broken at least one of those. These are the same people who stand before us all high and mighty claiming to be on the high ground trying to bring goodness back to a sinful world. Have you spent so much time sinning that you think you're an expert in the subject? You act like you do.

My club has christian, deistic, athiestic, theistic, budist, agnostic, hindi, and jewish fencers in it and we don't need to make rules to force them to get along. We get along because we have a common goal. If the world wants to take an example of this and I hope it does, we need to focus on a common goal to all of us and not extreme laws from one wacked out sect.

Posted by at 8:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I awoke with a start from a deep sleep Bud puts his front paws up on the bed and says,
"They're back! Lets go get them!"

Jake, the more thoughtful of the two yawn, stretched, headed for the door. I jumped up and headed for the door quickly without dressing. The Angel of Bitterness was waiting for me by the door. The Angel of Bitterness is what it is, and at this moment chose to be a she.
"Cyclops is waiting for us, so lets not keep him waiting." she said and handed me an axe that I kept in the living room as functional decor. She opened the door and we walked through it by size, Bud, Jake, and I.

We all took off headed towards where Cyclops was waiting. I am not sure if I tripped or if I made a decision to fall on purpose, either way by the time I hit the ground I had made up my mind to roll in the winters grass and get clean. Spring grass is the best, but when you are in need of a good roll any grass will do. Off again, I loped after the dogs, Bud was so excited by the unfolding events I thought for sure he would run headlong into a tree.

We stopped at Cyclops, he smiled his one big eye shining in the star light and I smiled back but couldn't help but ask, "You aren't going to tell me I've been struck by lightning again are you?"

He smiled Bigger and replied, "Oh nothing like that at all! They're over there, by the river in the tree stand."
It was at this point Tuffy spoke up, "The Cyclops never has good news." I was annoyed that she said it in front of him, and I was doubly annoyed that she was there with us. This is no place for cats! I told her so too Then I charged ahead. I started first but Bud was ahead of me already and Jake at my side. The Angel of Bitterness trumpted our arrival with a inhuman battle cry as I streaked up the small ladder to where our prey was already jumping for safety. They left everything behind as they ran for the safety of somewhere I didn't care about. They were both bloodied for good measure and we all howled at the tops of our lungs at the fun we were having.

We tore the stand to the ground and all took turns peeing and pooping on everything. The Angel of Bitterness helped me to wrap a disguarded rifel around a small tree, the stock broke in the process but that didn't stop us. Nothing ever stops us. Soon the fun was over and done, there was nothing left to tear, nothing left to rend, and nothing left to chew.

Then Cyclops said, "You look really tired, lets go home now."
Jake noded in approval, and bud licked my leg, I had apparently gotten something tasty on me. I noded in agreement, I was feeling awful tired, I think I could have gone to sleep right there. The Angel of Bitterness folded its fiery wings behind me and was gone. No one spoke until we got back to the edge of the yard. I turned to say goodnight to Cyclops and head back to bed, I could barely hold my eyes open. He spoke first.

"Good news, although you have lost a lot of blood you will live. The poachers were so frightened they will call the police to report being attacked by a mad man. They will be arrested soon after."

I blinked at him, "What?"

"I'm sorry I thought you might know already, you've been shot. The solid wood headboard absorbed alot more of the impact then the exterior wall did so the bullet didn't go all the way through you. Good thing too I should add."

My last thoughts before losing consciousness was the fact that I have always liked Cyclops, but he never brings me good news.

Posted by at 11:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Last night was the first night I have really slept since discovering that our house has no real armor value vs bullet. I think I'm starting to get a handle on this new way of life.
The trick was to find ways to remove that helpless "target" feeling. My friends and family were very helpful here.

Rob suggested building with foamed concrete.
Mark suggested locating the place the shooter was standing.
George made it possible by taking the measurements I took and turning them into useful angles I can use to track back to the point of origion.
My boss suggested putting up "No Hunting" signs along the back edge of my property.
And the bitter angel that lives inside me told me to place a landmine in the area the bullet was fired from.

Thanks everyone, those that I have mentioned here and the others who simply offered support. And Billy the Blogging Poet who must actually have a target painted on his house. If he can surive getting his house preferated 12 times who am I to complain. I am taking everyones advice and doing everything suggested.

I think I am close to returning to feeling like normal. (That would be normal for me not national average or anything.) Good sleep is good.

In case you are interested it is a 5.4 degree rise and a 5.1 degree angle.

Posted by at 10:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Turns out that when you live in the country every direction on the compass is down range for someone. Its odd. When the Presidents of the United States of America sung "Peaches" they never mentioned finding a bullet hole in your home and the bullet lodged in the other opposite exterior wall. I am sure I would've remembered if they did. Lets see, moving to the country, eating a lot of peaches, peaches come from a can, put there by a man, in a factory downtown, squish a rotten peach in my fist, dream about a particular woman, making an ant farm, natures candy in a can, or pan or pie. Nope. Nothing. John Denver never said anything about being shot at either. Of course I think we have already established that John Denver is full of shit anyway.

It is here that people who know me would mention a tin foil hat with a good natured grin. Screw the tin foil hat this isn't conspiracy. Bullet, gun, computer room, 13 inches from my computer chair, across the couch, bullet lodged in dry erase board hanging from a nail on the opposite exterior wall. The bullet is in perfect condition. This isn't panic. This is culture shock. You just wait until I get my bearings then you'll see some real panic.

I had a dream folks. Buy some land on the river for cheep, done. Get a good job, save some money build one of those nice ski lodge style houses with the huge windows overlooking the river. Waking up, sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee and watch the sun rise before me.

These dreams are shattered now. Ok, maybe not shattered. To continue this dream I must have a good enough job to make enough money so that the huge window overlooking the river is both intelligent glass AND bullet proof.

No, I think my dream is shattered. Now my minds eye shows a bermed dome home that can be barely seen from the ground and virutally invisible to satellite survelience. My view of the river would be via an armored security camera projected on the wall of situation room. The coffee would still be excellent. But even this may not be good enough. Do you remember Star Wars (A New Hope for you geeks out there)? Luke and his aunt and uncle was living in a bermed dome and the imperiels still found the place and set fire to it. It was one of the few time the imperiels were ever credited with, or demonstraited being precise shooters.

A few stats:
Outside entry point was 6.5 feet from the ground.
Interior wall was breached 22.5 inches from the foor.
Hole was 13 inches from my computer chair.
It lodged in the dry erase board on the other exterior wall 38.5 inches from the floor.
The bullet was 1/4 of an inch in diameter and 1 inch long. It came from a high powered rifel.
There is a second hole outside in the underpinning that I am trying to have a relaxed attitude about. It is 12 inches from the ground.

We called the sheriffs office and mentioned what we found. We were told that if it would make us feel better they could send a deputy round to talk to us. This is perfectly reasonable. There is nothing that can be done. We opted against having a deputy visit. No point getting shot at and patronized too. My gentle soul couldn't handle two blows like that in one day.

Now, if you'll excuse me I have to do some research on armor plating my trailer.

Posted by at 8:10 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

It is fairly well known and understood that the Greensboro NC blogging community is pretty much an evolutionary step above other regional blogging communities. (As evidenced because I can't find a single link that describes it all.) They even meet regularly in person for meetings. Some of our bloggers have taken that extra step to teach blogging to others.

One of the newest and coolest projects the Greensboro bloggers are kicking around is picking a topic and all of the bloggers write on it in their own style from their own point of view.
Check it out. Note that these bloggers are so organized that they have their own forum. Note too that these bloggers clearly understand that there is a difference between a blog and a forum and can use each correctly.

I work in Greensboro and because I teach fencing in Greensboro I end up spending 14 hours a day in Greensboro and 10 in my bed just a mile across the county line in Rockingham County. Its odd that where I hang my hat has distanced me so far from the Greensboro crowd. I am not up on any local politics because I am too far removed physically from any politics greater than our road association. And the only politics there is getting everyone to pay the dues so the dirt roads can be graded twice a year. The school system is alien to me because we have no kids. Sadly my coaching schedule keeps me from most all of the blogger get togethers. I'm here, yet I am so far away from the really exciting Greensboro blogging scene. If you are a blogger in the Greensboro area, and you are not already involved in all of this excitement, I highly recommend you do so right away. This is just too cool to miss.

Some people have all the fun.

Live from Greensboro,
Woody Cavenaugh

Posted by at 9:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Well, today's finally come. I'm in my classic black attire. I wouldn't go to Washington to watch this for the country's GNP. Not because I am not a fan of Bush, though its true that I am not. It has more to do with the climate up there right now. I am surprised they are even allowing people to wear coats to the event. Truthfully I suspect that the secret service wanted to deny winter coat wearers access but they were overruled by the people who know the importance of having packed stands when the TV camera's switch on. The list of banned items is impressive and complete. I can see backpacks, coolers, glass bottles, and baby strollers. The president doesn't want his day marred by a thousand thousand crying things on wheels. I found the banning of crosses a little shocking. I mean after all, he pandered to the cross crowd the entire time and people were convinced that a vote for bush was the only proof that you were both going to heaven and not a terrorist.

"Do not look directly at the president and don't make any sudden movements as he passes." I saw that same rule at the zoo when I went to the gorilla cage. So I guess that makes since.

One of the reasons I am not going is I don't want to risk being hurt either by terrorist or the government. Boston is a feint. Its a good target as Boston is the symbol of America's first terrorist act. However I don't even need to put on the tin foil hat to see that the only target in the month of January is Washington DC today.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot, I had better explain Boston and American Terrorism. The year was 1773. America was suffering under the yoke of oppression thanks to King George. The people were being taxed to death, even tea, the staple of their daily diet was taxed heavily. Some Americans got fed up and one night in a blatant act of terrorism dressed up as native americans stormed the ships filled with way way overtaxed tea and dumped the contents overboard destroying property, profit, and tax revenue. But this was one of the first defiant acts of what is now the great country of America? True. Unless you were english, then you were a terrorist. Its all about point of view. Our founding fathers were somebody else's Osama Bin Ladins.

Crazy huh. I just proved that black equals white. I guess this means that I will be killed at the very next zebra crossing I come to.

Posted by at 8:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I believe that people come in three basic types; wolves, sheep, and sheep dogs. The sheep are pretty much most people, and often they can be good people or at the very least they are trying to be good people. They have friends, they have hobbies, they might go to church, they might not. They might be up on the trends of the day, or at the very least the trends as they were once. They want to fit in, they want to be liked, they want to belong to a political party. If someone comes along with a good strong voice saying the things they want to hear the sheep will follow them blindly.

The wolves are in it for themselves. They are good in business because they see the bottom line and want to make that number as big as possible because it is good for them and their bank accounts. Wolves make good criminals because they have no real problem with taking something that doesn't belong to them. They want it, they get it. If they can land a leadership position where they can get others to do their dirty work they will. They want to be confortable, they want to have everything their way, and they won't let others stand in their way.

Sheep dogs are natural leaders, they are thinking about the good of others. I'm not necessarily talking about moral good or ten commandments good. I am talking what is perceived as "good for others" by the sheep dog in question. This means that not only would the Pope be a textbook example of a sheep dog, so would Adolf Hitler. I believe Hitler actually believed what he was doing was for the best for his people. Jim Baker, the ex-televangelist, I think was a wolf. I believe he was doing what he did to make money for himself (Ok, he did put AC into his dog's houses that's not good enough).

I tend to think that my wife is a sheep dog. She keeps me out of trouble and she always thinks about others first. She also blogs very irregularly. When she blogs it is usually after weeks and months of thought on a subject and the only warning I get that she is writing is when she says to me, "I just posted to my blog. Read it and tell me if I should pull it." Her concern is always that the audience is going to take her words to mean something more or different than what she actually meant. Her latest is no different. She seems to have managed to nail in just a few sentences how the mind of a sheep dog works. At the same time she is gently herding the flock. The flock being anyone who reads what she wrote. She never discusses what modivates her to write. Based on this article I suspect it has to do with the upswing in the number of attempts there have been to legislate morality. It could even be the recent scuffel with Creation Vs. Evolution in Pennsylvania. Who knows? She was inspired, she wrote, some may be inspired by what she wrote.

I guess I was too... I hope that doesn't make me a sheep. ;)

Posted by at 2:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Two years 16 days ago I was hired as a temp at UNCG in the fledgling IT Project Management Department after having been laid off two months earlier as a technician. Six months after I was hired as a temp I was told that I would be brought on permenant full time "real soon". Durning that time I have studied, trained, and developed myself in new and exciting ways (not just the obnioux outfits either). In return I went from fast food money and ten hours a week, to fast food manager wages and 40 hours a week. Not bad for five years total with the state.

Today they posted my job online to be a permenant full time position with bennifits and everything. The wages are close to night/closing fast food manager. The insurance won't be very good, but it will be better than the two years I have had no insurance at all.

Now all I have to do is interview better than the teaming masses of other out of work very well qualified laid off IT workers to claim the position I have built. Is it perfect? Heck no, the closest thing they could find to what I did was "INFORMATION SYSTEMS LIAISON I". If only I had chosen to work in Oracle and not Access I could've doubled my salery that easily. Oh well, live and learn.

But listen to me, I talk like I have the job already. I have all of UNCG's ISOM graduates to apply against. Fortunately I have a huge advantage over them. Not only do I know how to turn a computer on, I also know how to open applications. I guess I really should ask for more money.

So like the advice Ed Cone offered the last time my job was just about to be made mine I am going to "get to work".

Posted by at 12:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Much thanks to Crystal who has been very helpful with the hunt for Bluegrass on the Radio. Buddy Michaels has been found!!! Bluegrass is saved!

Saturday mornings on 1150AM from 9am-noon. I caught some of this on the way to the art musieum and I have this to say about being on AM. I like it. As messed up as this makes me, it was more authentic over the AM than it is on FM. Sure FM has its advantages stereo, clearity, quality, and stuff. AM just sounded more real. I imagine to make it any more real I would have to turn off the heat and open all of the windows of my house and listen to it.

I learned this morning (Again, thanks to Crystal), that he has another show on Monday evenings starting at 7PM on WKRX 96.7.

Welcome back to the airwaves Buddy, we have missed you.

Posted by at 11:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

A group of us daytripped to the North Carolina Musieum of Art to check out "Matisse, Picasso and the School of Paris" with special thanks to Ed Cone for helping to bring a few of his family's things to NC for us to see.

The day started out at Mark's place where we picked up our host and traveling companion and headed to Chip's place to grab chip and a bite to eat. This is notable because this is the first time I have ever had Mongolian BBQ and it might be the perfect eating style. It had all types of meat, all types of vegies, plenty of sauces, oils, and dry spices. Anyone with any type of eating style could go there and get a good meal at a good price. Greensboro needs one of these in the worst way.

So after great food we went to the musieum and spent five hours looking at a fraction of what was available to see. We had a 1:30 ticket to the special exibit so we had time to check out egyptian and roman art and artifacts while we waited our turn. Good stuff. It is a wonder to me that someone three thousand years ago can create something better than I can today. Its humbling really.

The special exibit was a good deal of fun. On the ride up we listened to an MP3 from NPR where Ed Cone mentioned that art was even better when you've had a couple of drinks. Sadly, we didn't have a couple of drinks first, but we all had a great time none the less. Its sad that modern mass media has jaded me so much. There was this painting there with a clown in tights sitting down with his legs open wide. There was a young boy on his lap in tights and no shirt. All I could think of was that if NAMBLA had a homepage, this painting would be found on it. I wasn't the only perv in the room either. Sara noticed it first and brought it to my attention. As you walk in to the special exibit there is a sculpture of a young girl child wearing a ballet costume that had a cloth skirt. The men looked at the sculpture, admired its lifelikeness and moved on. The women did the same but still had to try to look under the skirt to see (presumably) wether or not she was wearing underwear. Sara also got a laugh at my expence when she saw the sculpture of Balzac, she said it resembled me. She won't tell me if this is a good thing or not. One exibit I really liked was a study of Picaso's reclining nude. They had all of his pencil sketches that lead up to the final work. It was very educational. I came away from it with the feeling that he made one sketch working with the model and all the others came from the sketch before it. It was most interesting in where the empasis was placed and the choices that were made. He clearly thought the legs were more important than the face but the choices weren't so clearly defined as in the shape, size, and location of the breast. He wasn't creating a painting of a woman he was creating a painting of his interpretation of a woman. We left the exibit through some presumably french school sureal paintings. Since there was no mention in the exibit of Man Ray or Dali I could only presume they were only looking at french school. Sureal is more my style than what Matisse and Picaso were doing. Rococco is my absolute favorite.

So my next stop was the Rococco exibit. I loved the way artist in this period could make a painting so life like that when you viewed the paintings you expected the subject to turn and greet you. Here more than anywhere else in art do I feel that the subject of the painting is trying to tell you something more than the artist. One sculpture of a young woman occupied Mark, Sara, and myself for what must have been thirty minutes. Wheather or not the woman existed I will never know but I do know this, the artist created perfection from stone. Sara noticed that the stripes in the stone even resembled veins just under the surface of the skin. And the skin glowed like satin. Just exactly the way that skin glows on commercials for cosmetics. Revlon, meet marble.

After art, we met up with even more people for dinner at Bullucks BBQ in Durham. Family style yum! The BBQ wasn't bad for gas cooked, a little sweeter than I would prefer but not at all the sickly candy sweet of the BBQ Short Surgar's serves. The fried chicken was plentiful just like I like it even if it was a little bit overcooked. I ignored the french fries. The cole slaw was tasty, but my favorite was the green beans.

Home.

Bed.

Posted by at 11:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Its been festering in my mind for some time this little spark of a notion about what society is being fed by the mass media. Only now do I feel I have a proper "shoot from the hip" grasp of the situation necessary to get good and worked up about it on this blog.

The News: Bouillon Cubes of bad news.
Quick! We're a major network and we only have one hour to tell our viewers everything that is going wrong with the world. It really gives one a bleak view of mankind. We begin with natural disaster, move on to major criminal acts, now to entertainment where the following stars are in trouble with the law. I can't tell you the name of Michael Jackson's last album, but I know he's in court. I can't tell you what team Kobe Bryant plays on, but I can tell you he has been in trouble with the law. The tsunami is going to cause a sharp rise in the cost of sumatrian coffee *gasp*. Churches were burned, people were murdered, politicians are charged in scandel, our president has another hair brained idea. And yes, this is not an absolute. If there isn't enough bad news in the world for a strong one hour broadcast, we can give a minute or two to interview the woman with cancer who lost everything in a mudslide but battles on to save stranded puppies. Its called "filler" and it has its place. Good news is generally relageted to the 5am broadcast of the local news, or nationally on shows like Sunday Morning (I am a huge fan), Good Morning America, and Regis.

Action Adventure Films: Blood and Escapism
The easiest, most cleche, safest action of an action film is the slide over the hood of a car to get to the other side quickly. Have you ever tried this? Probably not with your own car if you did. Its murder on the paint job. Plus fairly difficult for a number of reasons. Why aren't movie hero's all def? They shoot guns more than combat soldiers in Iraq, and can still have a conversation at 100 miles per hour in a convertible. They get beat up and the most they have is a bruise. The only time someone dies from getting hit in the face is in shows like CSI where you have to have a dead body or there is no story. Or the local news where it seems to happen an awful lot. There are people who say that these movies are making people more violent. They may have a point. According to action shows/movies gunfights happen all the time in an explosion of broken glass and the best cops disreguard their chief's orders, bust the case wide open, kill the bad guy, and still have a job the next day.

Comedies: This never really happens
Comedies show us all the time very matter of factly stuff that you just wouldn't do. Watch any comedy anytime anywhere. Take a situation where someone says or does something absolutely hysterical. Try it in the office... The only one laughing is going to be you. Everyone else is going to be standing there with their mouths agape saying "How could you say that?" "What could have possessed you to do that?" "Why are you such an asshole all the sudden?" "That was the harshish, most thoughtless act I have ever seen." Sometimes even I get angry with sitcoms and find myself shouting at the screen, "What are you doing? That's the dumbest thing ever." Sara just patiently tries to calm me down and remind me that if they didn't do or say something so rediculous or dumb there would be no story. Fraiser Crane makes me want to pull my own hair out by its roots, and I'm still the guy who has the reputation for being the asshole to my friends.

Sex and stuff: Style is an illusion, fads doubly so.
Every wonder why teenage girls today are dressing like street walkers? (No offence to the ladies of the evening who work hard for the money.) Do some channel surfing. Why do young girls want Bratz dolls? What is their favorite star staring in? Why do we seem to have more sex offenders in the news these days? Pick up your TV guide. Most American comedies start with teenagers or those in their early 20's made to look like they are in their teens. Make them sexy, if they have no boobs, put them in something skimpy enough that it looks like they do, now shorten that hemline and show us some midrif. Who is watching the prime time comedies? The demographic the networks are shooting for the most is the less than 35 crowd. Some networks shoot lower. "Next on EasyView, beautiful young people doing and saying things that no one really does or says in real life while wearing really expensive and trendy clothing that shows off a good deal of skin we've spent a fortune on to look perfect and glowing." And I can't tell you how many times I have fallen into the trap of saying, "Wow, she's really sexy", only to have Sara turn to me with a bemused expression and say, "She's only fifteen you perve!" Ok, if she's only 15 why is she wearing that outfit, doing that with that guy after leaving that night club the scene before? Why am I sitting here being put into a position where I am being enticed to view a fifteen year old as a sex object? Are they running out of sex offenders on the six O'clock news that they have to go out and make more?

Mass Media is a Deviant Factory: If the average TV viewer sits in front of the TV or goes to the movies and is fed nothing but extraordinary, improbable, and atypical images doesn't it follow that what the average viewer thinks of as average behavior going to be modified? As a child I watched The Three Stooges with rapped wild eyed amazement. To this day my mother is afraid that I am going to start a pie fight. Fortunately she stops me when ever she sees me eyeing the pie table with that gleam in my eyes. My mother also lives in fear of seeing me on the six O'clock news. Meanwhile, Sara can not always be there to stop me when I get that gleam in my eyes as I am prepairing to click the "post" button.

Posted by at 8:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I would be lying, as I sit here in the parking lot of the hotel, if I said that this class was a waste of time. In fact, yesterday in one page, I found the solution to all of my personality problems out to four decimel places. It sat there in the page and stared at me with a smug expression on its face.

I don't find this surprising at all. I have noticed that it is human nature to want to tell someone what is wrong with them. People tell themselves they are doing it to be helpful to their fellow man, but this a lie. A lie to them, a lie to the world, and a lie to yourself. Many self help groups make a fortune on the lie. They, tell you what is wrong with you, but more importantly, they teach you how to spot it in others. You come away feeling great about yourself, you go to all of your friends and you tell them what you see in them, (its for your own good of course). And you tell them that if they take that same self help class, they can get fixed too. And thus the virus spreads because the self help group knew the dirty little secret, which is this, people want to tell you what is wrong with you and how to fix it, not for the reason they tell themselves (they want to be alturistic and help you) but because telling you what is wrong with you makes them feel better about themselves. "I'm not perfect, but if I can make you less perfect I can get closer to the top".

I have also noticed that it is human nature to give anything, even a page in a book, human qualities. Once this class is over I will wipe that smug expression off of my book I swear to you all.

Class is good, it isn't a self-help class. The instructor isn't here to tell us what is wrong with us, she is simply giving us tools we can use to deal with people we meet who are the ones with the problems. Hmm...maybe my lack of tact is not my problem, but an indication that everyone else takes things way too seriously. Put that in your crack pipe and smoke it you politically correct dumbasses! Note: no offence was intended to people who smoke crack or the other crack heads known as politically correct.

I am in class...
So in class we are talking about the S-E-L-F Profile, a short verson of the test is at the bottom of this page. I took the complete test. I'm an "E". This profile method is absolutely amazing. I recommend everyone I know take this profile. A funny related to be taking this profile and learning that I am an "E", is one of the bullets about my personality type. "Remember: Most people don't think like you. Stay alert to that fact. Human factors are important- it's humans, ultimately, who do the work. Stay Tollerent." I almost pissed myself laughing at the abserd but absolute truth to this statement. Rob is an "S". In a nutshell, I would say to Rob, "You. Shut the F__K up!" Rob and I got a huge laugh when we realized that I as an "E" behave exactly as expected when faced with an "S". Yet as my heterosexual lifemate, we make it work. I see everything as bullet points. I expect you to give me the ball and let me run with it. I don't want fluffy bunny fru-fru talk. I don't want details. This is the task that needs to be done, I will do it.

Now get out of my office.

Posted by at 5:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I have always strived to be an entertaining communicator, drawing inspiration from the dialogue of Douglas Addams, Kevin Smith, MASH, and Waiting for God. The upshot of this is that when I write and/or actually speak I hope to be above all things funny. The downshot is that more than one would imagine I am familiar with the taste of my own feet.

In my circle of friends, when we have occasion to accidentally insult one of our friends we will always make up by buying the offended party a beer. At this point I am keeping bar tabs. In some cases I owe kegs. Thus, I approached my boss to request a two day course called "Communicating with Diplomacy and Tact: A Two-Day Workshop".

From her response one would think I had donated a kidney. Never have I seen so much gratitude and enthusiasm over one of my decisions. In my circle of friends, the news was taken differently. Only one of my friends actually believed I would go to a class called "Diplomacy and Tact" and that's because he's sitting next to me right now in the class. Hi Rob!

Most of this class is review, from the old communication days, little is new. I haven't gotten arrested or angered the teacher. Rob however made her hide behind the projection screen laughing and blushing in embarassment. Well, different people have, different gifts I suppose.

I don't think any new ground was covered here before, just rehashing of my last ten years of college. I am glad college wasn't a total waste of my time although I could argue it was still a waste of my money. Well, I can't even say that. I made some cool new friends, and I learned how to type.

Posted by at 4:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

When your project manager tells you a course of action you take it. You don't fire them.

Blackwater Security Consulting, a mercenary firm out of Moyock NC learned this lesson the hard way as they find themselves sued for just such a mistake. You might remember the whole sad tail, under staffed, undersupplied, and unarmored, some American mecenaries on Blackwater's payroll were beaten, killed, burned, and hung from a bridge.
Here's another longer article on the matter.

The Project Manager is your friend not your enemy. In business the executive suits control everything but only know the bottom line. Its the Project Manager who knows what is going on from top to bottom.
Blackwater gets what they deserve.

Posted by at 10:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

(note: In the Pacific it is called a Tsunami, in the Atlantic a Tidal Wave, I am referencing the Tsunami, to ponder the possibility of a Tidal Wave.)

First off I want to get my possibly callous statement out of the way when I say that I am thrilled that Mother Nature is still a more efficient killer than man.

My entire bloodline for the past 200 years (except me) lives less than 170 feet above sea level. The Asian wave in places was 30 feet high, which means that a similar wave could travel for miles across the coastal plain. The one in Asia traveled up to two miles in parts of Sri Lanka.

So there is some complex math involvolving the altitude of the land above sea level, the height of the wave, the dyanamic of the coastal seafloor, and the ammount of water involved.

My closest relatives wouldn't make it. My distant relatives were the hard hit by the floods of floyd. Its a roll of the dice for those folks.

Maybe I should consider breeding or something...

Posted by at 2:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

The hardest person to protect is the one who fears themselves the most.

Just thought I would share.

Posted by at 8:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Hey, a temp job is better than no job at all. And I diserve some sort of congratulations or something. Today marks to the day my two year anniversary in this same temporary job at UNCG. One day I hope to have health insurance and a retirement plan. Until then, here's to two years of being employed.

I don't think I have alergies. I am pretty sure it is a cold now. First it didn't respond at all to the alergy medicine, and second it did respond to some Yogi brand "Winter Relief" tea. Good stuff! One cup and I think I am on the mend.

Posted by at 8:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

On the Tenth Day Without Internet
I'm feeling like cold poo
I still don't know what I got

I did manage to go to the store late in the afternoon, I made sure to get some alergy medecine, if it doesn't work, then I know I have a cold. Elementary my dear Watson. I wonder why I didn't hedge my bets and buy a box of the cold formula too?

Posted by at 8:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

On the Nineth Day Without Internet
It was seventy degrees
I napped out on the front porch

Well, I tried to anyway. My corgie can sence when people are going to sleep around him and will always bark at the appropriate time so you won't actually manage to fall asleep. Later, I sighted in the telescope using the instructions I found in "Turn Left at Orion". Tonight was supposed to be the night I stayed out late looking at the stars. Instead, I went to bed early with what is either a head cold or an alergy attack.

Posted by at 8:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)