Kate tagged me, sharin the love. I don't know five people to tag, though, being an antisocial sort...but here goes, I'll share since it's all about Me. I'd like to point out that a number of my answers are very close to Kate's, however, I actually didn't read what she wrote before answering the questions and I think the similarity is amusing as hell.
What were you doing five years ago?
Five years ago, Red and I had cautiously extended the feelers of post-divorce attraction. She was getting divorced, and I'd just filed. The kids were living with their father, I was staying in a very small apartment on the other side of town, and had just left one very bad work situation to go to something better.
What are five snacks you enjoy?
1) Home-made tortilla chips and home-made tomatillo salsa.
2) Souls of people that piss me off.
3) Pita bread with my sister's home-made hummus (zomg that's some good stuff)
4) Sourdough toast with mayo, sun-warmed fresh tomato slices and Walla-Walla onions.
5) Chocolate chip cookies, but only the home-made ones that either Red or her oldest daughter make. (Thank God that Little Red inherited her mother's ability to bake)
What are five things you would do if you were a billionaire?
1) I'd buy my own island in the South Pacific, put a house on it, a boat dock, and all of the other assorted things to live there.
2) Learn to fly a plane and buy one.
3) Buy the homes that all of my family is living in and gift them with the deed (ie. settle their mortgage).
4) Buy toys. Lots of toys. The kind of ridiculous toys that only people who are very, very wealthy want because they can have them, not because they satisfy needs of any particular sort.
5) Hire a personal assistant to take a list of people that have annoyed me over the years and hand-deliver a personal insult directly to each of them.
What are five of your bad habits?
As I was getting ready to start this section, Red walked up behind me, laughed, and said, "I'll list them." I declined politely.
1) Apparently I snore. I don't believe it, but she says I do. No proof exists.
2) MMORPG's are a love of mine. They're addictive, time-consuming, and Red says I need a support group.
3) I can't stop myself most of the time from being brutally, bluntly, and often cruelly honest. This is particularly true when I'm dealing with officious or obnoxious bureaucrats. I do, in fact, actually get sort of a thrill from utterly verbally destroying people that piss me off, and Red says I get giddy and giggly.
4) I pontificate. I'd elaborate, but it seems unnecessary.
5) I was going to post something about procrastination, but I think I'll get back to that.
What are five places where you have lived?
1) Gold Beach, Oregon
2) Coos Bay, Oregon
3) Monmouth, Oregon
4) McMinnville, Oregon
5) Salem, Oregon
Yeah, I know, I've lived in Oregon. A lot.
What are five jobs you've had?
1) McDonald's
2) Security guard
3) Travelling souvenir sales professional on a train.
4) Indentured servant to the government
5) Photographer
As I said at the top, I can't tag five people, because I'm an antisocial bastard.
Showing posts with label electric venom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label electric venom. Show all posts
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
About that scarf...
I haven't done a political post in a while, probably because so much of it seems like the sort of hysterical doomsday predictions one might expect from a classroom of third graders. That goes for both sides, of course....anyway, about that scarf kerfuffle that some of the hard-core right-wing blogs started having a fit about, well, when even Kate had something to say about it, I kinda felt I had to put in my two cents.
First off, my take on it is much like the Jawa Report's. I don't think it's obviously a kaffiyeh...frankly, it looks like exactly what Ray and Dunkin Donuts said it was, which is a simple scarf purchased for the purpose of the shoot, covered in a paisley pattern, and saying it's a kaffiyeh is silly at best.
Kate is also right to point out that the kaffiyeh, by any of its multiple names, is a functional and traditional part of Arab dress, and some variant of it can be found all over the world in any place where it's hot. She's right that simply wearing one doesn't make one a terrorist, or even a sympathizer with one. I disagree with her on the rest of her post, though, largely because a kaffiyeh with the pattern on it popularized by Arafat and others is not just a piece of cloth, and it's not just a headdress. It's a symbol, and saying otherwise is dangerously simplistic.
When a similar mode of dress, and here I'm talking specifically about the version of the kaffiyeh worn by Arafat, is explicitly worn to identify affiliation with a particular movement, political philosophy, racial identity, etc. the act of doing so creates that connection, whether it was there to begin with or not, as long as one is aware of that connection. The PLO's stated goal since its inception has been to destroy Israel, Arafat's repudiation of that in 1998 notwithstanding; there is an inescapable and very real connection between the violence between the various Arabic and Islamic groups and Israel, and the symbols that the two sides rally around every time things heat up. The kaffiyeh is one of those symbols; Arafat wore one every single time he was in public and became associated with it.
One might just as well say the same of lots of other things, though. In certain parts of Los Angeles, wearing either a blue or a red shirt during the mid-80's was tantamount to a death sentence. Schools these days restrict students from wearing clothing closely associated with gangs as a way of keeping their rivalry off school property - it doesn't always work, but one has to start somewhere. Seventy years ago, one group of people in Europe was forced to wear armbands with a yellow six-pointed star on them shortly before six million of them were hauled off and slaughtered. The color red in Russia, China, and most of Eastern Europe has a particular connotation that the rest of the world doesn't. Take some white stars, and thirteen alternating stripes of red and white, put it on a rectangular piece of cloth, and refuse to take it off the pole it's on because some people are shooting at you, and you have the inspiration for the USA's national anthem. A vehicle with two perpendicular intersecting red bars on a white background on a battlefield has come to be connected with medical attention. The list goes on and on and on, endlessly.
People look for meaning where there might not otherwise be any. We associate shapes, colors, patterns, and textures with particular concepts, it's just how we're wired. Take a kaffiyeh of plain white, hold it in place with a simple black agal, and put it on a blue-eyed Caucasian man, and you evoke Lawrence of Arabia. Take one of white with a black spiderweb pattern on it, or a red and white, and you're possibly associating yourself with the Palestinian intifada. Granted, it's not that simplistic....but the connection is there and either ignoring it or ridiculing those that do make that connection is also simplistic. Granted, there are other associations than the ones we're talking about, but meanings change. Context changes. People change.
As a good example of this kind of connection, let's take it out of the realm of Rachael Ray, Dunkin Donuts, or even Yasser Arafat. Zombietime has done a number of photo essays on this subject, so go have a look at two from this month (and read the comments, which in my opinion are the best part):
Nakba-60 - 4th, 6th, 8th, 11th, and particularly the 17th photo of the banner, masked boys shooting rocks with slingshots, a Merkava tank, et al. There's way more, but you'll get my point, just keep scrolling.
UC Berkely's Palestinian Checkpoint - the one of the students in line, about 5 photos down.
San Francisco isn't arid or that hot. The predominant population there is not Arabic. QED, there is another connotation in mind. Is it as simple as "fashionable scarves"? Maybe. Americans have a tendency to do that sort of thing, else there would be no market at all for Che Guevara or Chairman Mao merchandise (15 seconds with Google found those latter two....you don't have to go far), both of which show a deeply distressing lack of historical knowledge about what those two were all about...or else an equally distressing amount of apathy.
I agree with Kate that the whole thing is a hysterical overreaction on the part of both Michelle Malkin and Charles Johnson. I disagree, however, that it's as simple as "kaffiyehs have been around for thousands of years, way before Arafat or the Palestinians, so wearing one doesn't mean diddly." One might say the same of the swastika.
Edit: Kate rightly points out in the comments that I paraphrased her post inaccurately. The part of her post that I read that way was this one:
First off, my take on it is much like the Jawa Report's. I don't think it's obviously a kaffiyeh...frankly, it looks like exactly what Ray and Dunkin Donuts said it was, which is a simple scarf purchased for the purpose of the shoot, covered in a paisley pattern, and saying it's a kaffiyeh is silly at best.
Kate is also right to point out that the kaffiyeh, by any of its multiple names, is a functional and traditional part of Arab dress, and some variant of it can be found all over the world in any place where it's hot. She's right that simply wearing one doesn't make one a terrorist, or even a sympathizer with one. I disagree with her on the rest of her post, though, largely because a kaffiyeh with the pattern on it popularized by Arafat and others is not just a piece of cloth, and it's not just a headdress. It's a symbol, and saying otherwise is dangerously simplistic.
When a similar mode of dress, and here I'm talking specifically about the version of the kaffiyeh worn by Arafat, is explicitly worn to identify affiliation with a particular movement, political philosophy, racial identity, etc. the act of doing so creates that connection, whether it was there to begin with or not, as long as one is aware of that connection. The PLO's stated goal since its inception has been to destroy Israel, Arafat's repudiation of that in 1998 notwithstanding; there is an inescapable and very real connection between the violence between the various Arabic and Islamic groups and Israel, and the symbols that the two sides rally around every time things heat up. The kaffiyeh is one of those symbols; Arafat wore one every single time he was in public and became associated with it.
One might just as well say the same of lots of other things, though. In certain parts of Los Angeles, wearing either a blue or a red shirt during the mid-80's was tantamount to a death sentence. Schools these days restrict students from wearing clothing closely associated with gangs as a way of keeping their rivalry off school property - it doesn't always work, but one has to start somewhere. Seventy years ago, one group of people in Europe was forced to wear armbands with a yellow six-pointed star on them shortly before six million of them were hauled off and slaughtered. The color red in Russia, China, and most of Eastern Europe has a particular connotation that the rest of the world doesn't. Take some white stars, and thirteen alternating stripes of red and white, put it on a rectangular piece of cloth, and refuse to take it off the pole it's on because some people are shooting at you, and you have the inspiration for the USA's national anthem. A vehicle with two perpendicular intersecting red bars on a white background on a battlefield has come to be connected with medical attention. The list goes on and on and on, endlessly.
People look for meaning where there might not otherwise be any. We associate shapes, colors, patterns, and textures with particular concepts, it's just how we're wired. Take a kaffiyeh of plain white, hold it in place with a simple black agal, and put it on a blue-eyed Caucasian man, and you evoke Lawrence of Arabia. Take one of white with a black spiderweb pattern on it, or a red and white, and you're possibly associating yourself with the Palestinian intifada. Granted, it's not that simplistic....but the connection is there and either ignoring it or ridiculing those that do make that connection is also simplistic. Granted, there are other associations than the ones we're talking about, but meanings change. Context changes. People change.
As a good example of this kind of connection, let's take it out of the realm of Rachael Ray, Dunkin Donuts, or even Yasser Arafat. Zombietime has done a number of photo essays on this subject, so go have a look at two from this month (and read the comments, which in my opinion are the best part):
Nakba-60 - 4th, 6th, 8th, 11th, and particularly the 17th photo of the banner, masked boys shooting rocks with slingshots, a Merkava tank, et al. There's way more, but you'll get my point, just keep scrolling.
UC Berkely's Palestinian Checkpoint - the one of the students in line, about 5 photos down.
San Francisco isn't arid or that hot. The predominant population there is not Arabic. QED, there is another connotation in mind. Is it as simple as "fashionable scarves"? Maybe. Americans have a tendency to do that sort of thing, else there would be no market at all for Che Guevara or Chairman Mao merchandise (15 seconds with Google found those latter two....you don't have to go far), both of which show a deeply distressing lack of historical knowledge about what those two were all about...or else an equally distressing amount of apathy.
I agree with Kate that the whole thing is a hysterical overreaction on the part of both Michelle Malkin and Charles Johnson. I disagree, however, that it's as simple as "kaffiyehs have been around for thousands of years, way before Arafat or the Palestinians, so wearing one doesn't mean diddly." One might say the same of the swastika.
Edit: Kate rightly points out in the comments that I paraphrased her post inaccurately. The part of her post that I read that way was this one:
What hole do Malkin and Johnson live in that they’re convinced the keffiyeh is, in and of itself, a symbol of terrorism? Or that a woman’s wearing of it means, well, anything?
The keffiyeh (also known as the shmagh, shemagh, ghutra, hatta or mashada), is a traditional Arabic men’s headdress. It’s a functional piece of clothing designed to protect the head and neck from the arid, blistering heat of the Middle East. As such, it’s been around for thousands of years — long before Yasser Arafat, the Taliban or any other Islamic extremists.
To argue that, because terrorists have been seen wearing such clothing, anyone who wears similar items must also be a terrorist is laughable.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Now that you mention it....
Yes.
You are very charming... dangerously so. You have the potential to break a lot of hearts.You know how what you want, how to get it, and that you will get it.You have the power to rule the world. Let's hope you're a benevolent dictator!
You are deeply philosophical and thoughtful. You tend to analyze every aspect of your life.You are intuitive, brilliant, and quite introverted. You value your time alone.Often times, you are grumpy with other people. You don't appreciate them trying to interfere in your affairs.
h/t to Kate for the link.
***What Wg Means***
You are very charming... dangerously so. You have the potential to break a lot of hearts.You know how what you want, how to get it, and that you will get it.You have the power to rule the world. Let's hope you're a benevolent dictator!
You are deeply philosophical and thoughtful. You tend to analyze every aspect of your life.You are intuitive, brilliant, and quite introverted. You value your time alone.Often times, you are grumpy with other people. You don't appreciate them trying to interfere in your affairs.
h/t to Kate for the link.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
A quick gum...
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
New Neighbors
As I write, I'm being treated to a lovely back massage, at 11:15-ish PM on a Wednesday evening. But there's a catch....the back massage is being provided by my wall.
I haven't blogged about it before, but the owner of the house nextdoor was something of an ass. Last winter, one of my roof drainage downspouts came loose during a rainstorm, and the resulting cascade of water did a truly awesome job of excavating a swath out of the bank between his property and mine - his is about 10' vertically lower because we're on a hill. He took it upon himself to dig replacement dirt from underneath my porch to replace it. Much arguement and finger-pointing ensued. It was not a good time had by anybody.
So he sold the place, and the team of renovating owners are now in the process of replacing carpet, painting, and whatnot. I'd applaud this if but for one item....they evidently have day jobs and are doing this at night during the week, and while I enjoy music as much as the next guy, their choice leaves a lot to be desired in both genre and volume. This brings me back to the back massage I'm currently enjoying. Sort of.
There is something basically wrong with the idea that a central weight-bearing wall running down roughly the middle of my house, over 100' away, could be receiving enough sound energy to have a discernable vibration, much less one that feels much like being pummeled by epileptic squirrels. I've chosen not to involve the police at this time, however...these guys have no idea what they're messing with in this neighborhood. One of these days I'll have to post something about the retired lady on the corner who typically does yardwork in knee-high rubber boots and a fuzzy nightgown.
I am feeling Kate's pain with the whole neighbor thing.
I haven't blogged about it before, but the owner of the house nextdoor was something of an ass. Last winter, one of my roof drainage downspouts came loose during a rainstorm, and the resulting cascade of water did a truly awesome job of excavating a swath out of the bank between his property and mine - his is about 10' vertically lower because we're on a hill. He took it upon himself to dig replacement dirt from underneath my porch to replace it. Much arguement and finger-pointing ensued. It was not a good time had by anybody.
So he sold the place, and the team of renovating owners are now in the process of replacing carpet, painting, and whatnot. I'd applaud this if but for one item....they evidently have day jobs and are doing this at night during the week, and while I enjoy music as much as the next guy, their choice leaves a lot to be desired in both genre and volume. This brings me back to the back massage I'm currently enjoying. Sort of.
There is something basically wrong with the idea that a central weight-bearing wall running down roughly the middle of my house, over 100' away, could be receiving enough sound energy to have a discernable vibration, much less one that feels much like being pummeled by epileptic squirrels. I've chosen not to involve the police at this time, however...these guys have no idea what they're messing with in this neighborhood. One of these days I'll have to post something about the retired lady on the corner who typically does yardwork in knee-high rubber boots and a fuzzy nightgown.
I am feeling Kate's pain with the whole neighbor thing.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Biting the Venomous One
Kate rightly castigates me and the rest of the universe for failing to bite when invited....so here's my nibble back, and an apology for my shameful neglect.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
I've been tagged....
Kate tagged me with this one....unfortunately, I don't know eight people to tag, so I'm going to have to sit that part out. Nevertheless, here's my contribution...
The rules are simple…Each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves. The rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are listed. At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.
1. Thing - I'm a diehard sci-fi/fantasy fan. Star Trek, Star Wars, Tolkein, Firefly, and a host of other shows, books, movies, etc, all hold a favorite place in my library.
2. Habit - I'm a creature of habit, to the point that my wife has teased me about obsessive-compulsive tendencies since we met. Case in point; I am utterly and completely worthless in the morning unless I get a shower (unless I'm camping, and usually I'll settle for a wash of some sort in the creek if I can get it).
3. Thing - I like gemstones (right, who doesn't?), but in my case I like actually digging them up. The engagement ring on my wife's hand hosts a .71 carat flawless Montana sapphire the color of an old pair of jeans that I mined and had cut myself.....actually, in point of fact, I also designed the setting and picked out the diamonds it's set with as well. :)
4. Habit - I can't stand being disconnected from my email. Not even for a day. Drives me crazy.
5. Thing - My current favorite medium and subject for photography is artistic nudes. The main reason I haven't posted any here yet is that I don't know yet how to do a "fold".
6. Habit - I prefer eating when I have a book to read; I think there are whole years of my childhood that I spent with my nose buried in a book, and I remember many occasions when I went to restaurants with my family and had a favorite novel along. I also often am doing several things at a time. For instance, at the moment, I'm chatting on IM with two people. writing this blog post, responding to an email from a model I want to work with, and watching Star Trek.
7. Thing - My preferred listening in music ranges from metal to classic - the laptop I'm writing this on has a library including Beethoven, Iron Maiden, Pink Floyd, and Bob Dylan.
8. Habit - I love to cook!
The rules are simple…Each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves. The rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are listed. At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.
1. Thing - I'm a diehard sci-fi/fantasy fan. Star Trek, Star Wars, Tolkein, Firefly, and a host of other shows, books, movies, etc, all hold a favorite place in my library.
2. Habit - I'm a creature of habit, to the point that my wife has teased me about obsessive-compulsive tendencies since we met. Case in point; I am utterly and completely worthless in the morning unless I get a shower (unless I'm camping, and usually I'll settle for a wash of some sort in the creek if I can get it).
3. Thing - I like gemstones (right, who doesn't?), but in my case I like actually digging them up. The engagement ring on my wife's hand hosts a .71 carat flawless Montana sapphire the color of an old pair of jeans that I mined and had cut myself.....actually, in point of fact, I also designed the setting and picked out the diamonds it's set with as well. :)
4. Habit - I can't stand being disconnected from my email. Not even for a day. Drives me crazy.
5. Thing - My current favorite medium and subject for photography is artistic nudes. The main reason I haven't posted any here yet is that I don't know yet how to do a "fold".
6. Habit - I prefer eating when I have a book to read; I think there are whole years of my childhood that I spent with my nose buried in a book, and I remember many occasions when I went to restaurants with my family and had a favorite novel along. I also often am doing several things at a time. For instance, at the moment, I'm chatting on IM with two people. writing this blog post, responding to an email from a model I want to work with, and watching Star Trek.
7. Thing - My preferred listening in music ranges from metal to classic - the laptop I'm writing this on has a library including Beethoven, Iron Maiden, Pink Floyd, and Bob Dylan.
8. Habit - I love to cook!
Friday, June 29, 2007
In defense of government office drones
I think pretty much anybody with a pulse has had an experience like this one. I read it today on my break at work, and it got me to thinking. I've been in Kate's shoes...but I've also been the lady on the other side of the counter, metaphorically speaking. Ever wonder what it's like?
Understand, first off, that I'm not condoning the completely mindless behavior of said drone - Kate is right that a pleasant attitude goes a long ways towards defusing the ire of even the most intractible curmudgeon (and yes, that's my $5 word allotment for today). Been there.
The thing is, what seems on the customer/consumer/voter side of the counter like a monolithic, unchanging bureaucracy is much closer to being somewhat like a member of an army of ants as they march. There's a certain inevitability to it, a pace that you just don't see in the private sector, a grind that keeps moving all the time. Toss into that a lengthy manual of Rules Thou Shalt Not Ever Under Any Circumstances Violate, and For Which You Could Immediately Be Terminated (or at least Harshly Scolded), and then make the manual completely dependent on the comparison of its more esoteric contents with similar manuals at all other levels of government, and the particulars of which are known only unto the Morlocks at Central Office.
Then make all of that Holy Writ completely dependent on both the tax revenue and legislators from various levels. Understand that any or all of the rules you spend literally weeks learning can and do change with little, and often without, notice. Nobody human can ever know all of it and actually work in the field with the public, so they settle for a working knowledge and occasional specialties.
Add to that the public whose default position is cautious, nervous GodIhopeIgetthesedamnpapersfilledoutright, which will instantly change to teeth grinding rage and "Hey, you work for me, I'm a taxpayer, dammit," if balked or made to stand in line 4a for an estimated hour to talk to the guy at window 8, 9, or 10 to learn what else they're going to have to do.
Finish off this repast with a management structure that is more likely than not composed of: a few well-meaning, genuinely sincere public servants that love their job and have earned a position of authority by being exceptional, and a majority of (for lack of a better term) venal, shallow, insecure, vicious adult third-graders intent only on climbing the agency ladder by stepping on the knives they've plunged into the backs of their peers and subordinates. Keep in mind that they'll smile at you when they talk and mean nothing that they say if it makes their life more difficult.
Now be in between all of that and dependent on supporting yourself & your family for the next 15-30 years depending on your age.
Welcome to your Government At Work.
Understand, first off, that I'm not condoning the completely mindless behavior of said drone - Kate is right that a pleasant attitude goes a long ways towards defusing the ire of even the most intractible curmudgeon (and yes, that's my $5 word allotment for today). Been there.
The thing is, what seems on the customer/consumer/voter side of the counter like a monolithic, unchanging bureaucracy is much closer to being somewhat like a member of an army of ants as they march. There's a certain inevitability to it, a pace that you just don't see in the private sector, a grind that keeps moving all the time. Toss into that a lengthy manual of Rules Thou Shalt Not Ever Under Any Circumstances Violate, and For Which You Could Immediately Be Terminated (or at least Harshly Scolded), and then make the manual completely dependent on the comparison of its more esoteric contents with similar manuals at all other levels of government, and the particulars of which are known only unto the Morlocks at Central Office.
Then make all of that Holy Writ completely dependent on both the tax revenue and legislators from various levels. Understand that any or all of the rules you spend literally weeks learning can and do change with little, and often without, notice. Nobody human can ever know all of it and actually work in the field with the public, so they settle for a working knowledge and occasional specialties.
Add to that the public whose default position is cautious, nervous GodIhopeIgetthesedamnpapersfilledoutright, which will instantly change to teeth grinding rage and "Hey, you work for me, I'm a taxpayer, dammit," if balked or made to stand in line 4a for an estimated hour to talk to the guy at window 8, 9, or 10 to learn what else they're going to have to do.
Finish off this repast with a management structure that is more likely than not composed of: a few well-meaning, genuinely sincere public servants that love their job and have earned a position of authority by being exceptional, and a majority of (for lack of a better term) venal, shallow, insecure, vicious adult third-graders intent only on climbing the agency ladder by stepping on the knives they've plunged into the backs of their peers and subordinates. Keep in mind that they'll smile at you when they talk and mean nothing that they say if it makes their life more difficult.
Now be in between all of that and dependent on supporting yourself & your family for the next 15-30 years depending on your age.
Welcome to your Government At Work.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Post The First, In Which Our Author Explains Himself
As the title says, the first post. I'll explain the title later to anybody that doesn't get the reference (which is probably most people).
In anticipation of the hordes of wellwishers I expect to meet this way, I'd like to thank several blog parents who may or may not be aware of their impact on me.
1) Glenn Reynolds was my introduction to weblogs. I started reading shortly after 9/11, mostly because what he had to say at the time was considerably more interesting, informative, and had less of an obvious agenda than any traditional MSM outlet I could find.
2) Jeff also had a big influence on me, partially due to his magnificent prose, partially because the guy can't seem to admit how completely fucking brilliant he actually is, and partially because he had the gumption to put it all out there and bare his soul when Nelson died. I cried. Nuff said.
3) Last, certainly not least, and probably the biggest reason for my actually taking the jump and publishing a public, online diary, is Kate, because she's generally awesome and as my wife puts it, Takes No Shit From Anyone. I admire that.
More to come. Watch this space.
In anticipation of the hordes of wellwishers I expect to meet this way, I'd like to thank several blog parents who may or may not be aware of their impact on me.
1) Glenn Reynolds was my introduction to weblogs. I started reading shortly after 9/11, mostly because what he had to say at the time was considerably more interesting, informative, and had less of an obvious agenda than any traditional MSM outlet I could find.
2) Jeff also had a big influence on me, partially due to his magnificent prose, partially because the guy can't seem to admit how completely fucking brilliant he actually is, and partially because he had the gumption to put it all out there and bare his soul when Nelson died. I cried. Nuff said.
3) Last, certainly not least, and probably the biggest reason for my actually taking the jump and publishing a public, online diary, is Kate, because she's generally awesome and as my wife puts it, Takes No Shit From Anyone. I admire that.
More to come. Watch this space.
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