What's Eating Grayson Grape

10/03 - 12/01

2009-12-01T11:19:00.002-07:00

Weeks #6-14

Stuff.

9/28/09 - 10/02/09

2009-10-02T18:00:00.002-06:00

Week #5

Class Attendence Percentage: 100%
Construction Scheduling: EXAM 1 / concealing amount of float days from subcontractors is important to reduce delays between activities
Construction Law: When using custom contracts if question of ambiguity arises the courts will construe against party who created contract.
Commercial Real Estate: Tenant Cycle
FPM Technologies: Tour of BYU/LDS Server Rooms
Public Assembly Facilities: Tour of Marriot Center - Risk Mgmt noone allowed on catwalk as soon as event has opened doors to public
Human & Environmental Mngmt: Fire Extinguisher Training. Classifications of Extinguishers A,B,C,D,K or solids, liquids, electrical, metal, food products. Most are ABC and will lose pressure after 8 -16yrs

9/07/09 - 9/11/09

2009-10-02T18:00:00.001-06:00

Week #2

Class Attendence Percentage: 75%

Construction Scheduling: Foundation walls need 3 days before back fill. However compression loads i.e. framing can be installed the next day.
Construction Law: Both Federal and State courts have an appellate levels where no new testimony or evidence is presented
Commercial Real Esate: NO CLASS
FPM Technologies: A hub, switch, and router are all the same thing but have increasing levels of intelligence
Public Assembly Facilities: Quiz and stuff
Human & Environmental Mngmt: NO CLASS

This Week in LEARNING

2009-09-06T00:51:00.014-06:00

For my own amusement/benefit I've decided to start this new segment as a way of answer the common question, "So what did you learn in school this week?" Which is actually harder to verbalize that I initially thought; but thinking is the name of the game in 45 of the lower 48 states, so there you have it.

Week #1 AUG 31 - SEPT 4

Class Attendence Percentage: 59%

Construction Scheduling: Scheduling provides a visual goal for all of your subcontractors and project managers creating urgency for every part of the project. Technical Level - 2

Construction Law: Unless I get an MBA or JD or both I'll be pigeonholed into a job with a glass ceiling in the corporate world. Importance Level - 8

Commercial Real Esate: Increasing the Net Operating Income by $1 = $200 value increase to the property given NOI/Cap Rate = Present Value Applicable Level - 9
FPM Technologies: I skipped to go have a late lunch with a friend. Value Level: 1
Public Assembly Facilities: This class is all about my old job at the FBG Event Center
Human & Environmental Mngmt: Different municipalities use different codes, be familiar with your region.

The Life and Times of Forrest Gump

2009-05-09T23:54:00.007-06:00

It doesn't take a lot to get me all nostalgic and glazy eyed thinking and pondering about years past. Tonight it was watching Forrest Gump that got me. In 1994 I was 12 years old when I went with the family to see the academy award nominated film, old enough to get the plot, humor, and message of the story, and yet 14 years later it things I missed are now better understood or rather understood as only the passing of time can explain. Everything that happens in the film happens in the world before my time. A thirty year collection of snapshots and pop culture references to an America that I've only seen in books, on television, or in the stories of those who lived through it. It is because of this that we who were not a part of its making can only sympathize with the often bias or incomplete interpretations delivered to us by the mentioned sources. We'll never remember where we were when JFK was shot, when Armstrong walked to moon, or what any of the other iconic moments or periods of those distinct decades of the 50s, 60s, and 70s were truly like. Now that's not to say that history is dead, that we are not living through what will one day be regarded as pivotal , groundbreaking, or the distinguishing events of our time. But, there is a bitterness that lingers on the realization that that which was will never be a part of who we, the generation born after, are made from. Already, the effects of time can be seen as that which we 80s babies take for common knowledge is lost on the youth. They have no remembrance of a cold war, of the first Persian gulf war, or a world without Internet and cell phones. Even a mention of 9-11 is only a date in history books and brings no direct and personal emotional impact on those who were too young in the Fall of 2001 to remember it. Like Bob Seger's "Against the Wind" the march of time pushes our birth year farther into the past, laying ground for the new crop. And like the song and the film everyone is trying to find purpose and meaning to their meager 30,000 days in this world; to make it mean something, even if that means only to themselves.
But Gump, in his simpleness, found purpose and meaning without all the weight and burden a more developed mind might have bogged him down with. An illustrious college football career was followed by a tour to Vietnam, where at least three men, who would have died - some say needlessly - lived thanks to him. Upon returning home his peculiar talent of ping pong ball prowess allowed him to afford his first shrimp boat that later led to a multimillion dollar business, brought Bubba's family out of poverty through his generosity, and restored self worth and peace to the suicidal and bitter Lt. Dan. And who could forget the prodigal daughter Jenny? After years of sowing wild oats, she comes home to the one man who was constant and safe in her life. But sick with terminal illness she must leave behind her son with his father because she knows he'll be as good to little Forrest has he was to her. At her graveside, Forrest shares the simple and profound wisdom that the movie (book) are based on, "I don't know if we each have a destiny, or if we're all just floating around accidental-like on a breeze, but I, I think maybe it's both. Maybe both is happening at the same time."
Like the feather that is the prologue and epilogue to the movie, seemingly carried on a wind without thought or reason Forrest has found his way into the lives of numerous people whose fates may have been drastically altered if not for a chain of seemingly random coincidences. I guess Sally Field really was right about life and that damned box of chocolates.
What I'm getting at, I can't say for certain. Maybe it's about the realization of divinity in our daily lives or service to our fellow man, or how we should stop and embrace the present because one day it, like the twentieth century and all her days, will be gone; and all the while, worry less about the future and regret less what has passed. For now I'd like to think that its about how it's OK not to have things figured out entirely and embrace that which beyond our control. But it's 1:00 AM now, so in the words of my esteemed subject of topic, "that's all I have to say about that."

Camping half-cocked = 400 mile road trip

2009-04-25T13:42:00.006-06:00

Follow the markers. They tell the tale.

ViewHalf-Cocked Camping in a larger map

Go to ImageShack® to Create your own Slideshow

The Subway Blunder

2009-04-22T22:55:00.012-06:00

Wednesday. The last day of tests. Two taken. Real Estate at 2pm in the testing center, Drafting and Design at 5:45pm in class. I escape the testing center's talons a litte before 4 and the waiting line has grown from a modest trickle to a Ho Chi Minh trail of croc-footed underclassmen that is wrapped all the way from the Testing Center downstairs door, beyond the JSB, and almost all the way towards the Eyring science center (about 200m). I look upon the hundreds of faces with both pity and a condescending sense of "i told you so". What did they expect waiting until the afternoon of the last day of finals? I stop thinking about the test waiting line about the time that I'm in another line, consequently, looking at sandwich options. I narrow my choice down to "The Feast" whose salami, black forest ham, and pepperoni call out to me as a bounteous reward for my labors of the day. I decide to go with the six inch, no need to overkill, plus it would be like $10 for the footlong. As the salivation begins the Vegetable Guy takes the sandwich and asks with an air of impatience "whose sandwich is this?" while looking at me. I give him my requests - a hearty list of condiments and greens. Then he moves the sandwich aside and pulls up the next sandwich and asks his monotone monotonous question he's programmed to ask. I look down and this new sandwich, the one with no vegetables on it, is mine. My heart collapses into my stomach, I've just ruined someone else's sandwich with my copious collection of customized chiles. He keeps calling out for the owner of this new sandwich, but I'm dedicated to not responding. I can't, the words betray me, I quickly debate the pros and cons of pulling a 180 and leaving the scene of the crime, but there are too many witnesses, I'll be caught for sure and I'll still be hungry. So I stay, awaiting exposure and judgement, and the guy in front of me comes back to see his precious FOOTLONG veggie delight saturated in creamy southwest chipotle sauce and onions - the witch hunt and subsequent trial has begun. Surrendering, I have to explain to both Vegetable Man and Veggie Delight Boy, that I, by proxy, ordered for his sandwich. They look at me like I've set a kitten on fire and can't comprehend what kind of monster would do such a thing. In the lingering confusion, Bread Girl comes over and explains that a new sandwich must be made to atone for the sins of the first sandwich, which must now be cast down into outer trashness where there will be wailing and gnashing of teeth and probably mold. Sheepishly, I apologize to Veggie Boy as I pass him in line, but he's clearly not even going to humor me with a faux acceptance of apology. Oh well, at least now I can sulk away to the corners of the cougar eat and consume my tasty and guilt ridden "Feast".

The End.

Bored

2009-03-13T19:11:00.005-06:00

English: I'm bored
Latvian: Man ir garlaicīgi or Es garlaikojos (I spend time being bored / doing boring things)
Russian: Мне скучно
Spanish: Estoy aburrido
German: Mir ist es langweilig
Czech: Nudím se
Portuguese: Estou entediado
Dutch: Ik verveel me
Chinese: 我很无聊
Japanese: つまらないな
Thai: buồn thấy mẹ
Arabic: انا زهقت
African: Click clack clock
French: I'm gay
Swedish: jag är uttråkad
Finnish: minua kyllästyttää
Serbian: Досадно ми је
Greek: Βαριέμαι Πλήττω

Fruits of my Labor

2009-02-22T12:58:00.002-07:00

_________________________

____________

Turning Frowns upside down (and then rightside up)

2009-02-10T13:23:00.004-07:00

I got the following email this morning from my Real Estate teacher.

I hope all of you felt great after finding out that you scored 100% on the exam. The testing center made an error when they gave you the immediate report for your exam scores. I was informed that the error will be corrected, and you will be able to view your final scores on the T/F and M/Choice portion tomorrow. It will take them a day to post the new/correct information.

I hope you all enjoyed your "day in the sun." And the testing center is "really sorry."

There was about 5 seconds after taking that exam when i was looking up at the scoreboard and thinking to myself, "Hey, I'm pretty smart, you know I studied and everything and all my work has paid off. Yay for ME!". And then Uncle Reason paid a visit to my brain and reminded me of how I've NEVER gotten a 100 on a BYU testing center exam, and for that to happen today on one of my most difficult classes I've had to date was unlikely at best, nigh impossible.

But it was a good five seconds, all the same.

2009: Year of the Prank

2009-02-04T21:58:00.003-07:00

Tuscon Arizona Comcast Customers got more then they bargained for when after the last touchdown by the Arizona Cardinals, their signal was switched to some rather lewd pornographic imagery, more than likely based on the narration of of Ed Norton from Fight Club.

Then today, this appeared on highway road signs.

Click Picture For Link

I have a theory that an underground prank movement like that of Project Mayhem from Fight Club is forming Nationwide; and i want in.

Thankfulness

2008-11-26T07:58:00.005-07:00

It dawned on me as I sat at a dirty booth at my neighborhood Beto's this brisk November morning, that I have quite a lot to be thankful for this holiday season. And most of them are related, ironically enough, to that very special proprietorship I was visiting, known the region-over as Beto's.
Their breakfast burritos put all others to shame, inasmuch that I declare that we no longer classify them burritos, but jurritos instead - thus retaining their distinction of tortilla rolled amazement of human ingenuity, but also acknowledging that they are in fact massive, dare I say, Jumbo in proportion to their smaller, more feeble cousins that plague convenience stores and other such eateries. But the marvelous work and wonder does not end there my friends; oh no. It lives on in their beverages, their condiments, and their service. Today I discovered their latest contribution to an awe inspired world. Guacamole. Your perplexity will be short lived, I assure you ~ allow me to explain. As a percentage of you know, their is a little place (built on drug trafficking monies) call Mamacita's in central Texas. Now at Mamacitias, they serve a very special chip dip that most pass of as mere "green sauce" when in actuality it is Tomatillo salsa. Nowhere else have I tasted that subtle yet superfluously bold taste of sweet mild goodness. UNTIL today where I specifically asked if tomatillos were used to enhance the already glorious guacamole. You can imagine how happy I was when told that my suspicions where in fact DEAD ON!
Yes friends, Thanksgiving is a time to remember the most important things in life, perhaps more so in this time of turmoil and uncertainty. But no matter what the future may hold for each of us, we can take comfort in knowing that out there in this big blue world are copious mounds of delicious mexican-style jurritos available day or night, 24/7, come hell or high water, just waiting for someone to love them. May we all live to be such a jurrito loving people is my prayer; Amen.

P.S.
Also, guns. I'm thankful for guns.

Insomniatic Device

2008-11-02T01:50:00.003-06:00

Should any of you nice folk have a solution as to "what to do at 3am when you can't sleep but have to get up in 4.5 hours", please post it in the comment box below.

Answers not acceptable include, but are not limited to the following;
1. Try and wake up before 2pm on Saturdays
2. Save caffeine beverages for midday not midnight
3. Playstations are fun, just not all-night-prudent fun

Test Day for Grayson

2008-10-29T17:48:00.001-06:00

Hilarious.

The Wussification of American Children

2008-10-06T22:51:00.005-06:00

About an hour ago a friend of mine introduced me to one of my brand new favorite-est websites

THE ART OF MANLINESS

The shear volume of information and direct nature of the text really outshines any alleged Man's Magazine that you would see at the local grocery store. Plus, it has a vintage feel of 19th century art and imagery - which goes against the grain of the post-modern GQ womanizer image that is thrust upon us today. Anywho, one of the articles under Relationships and Family was titled (and subsequently linked)

Quit Coddling Your Kids

It's a quick 5 minute read with a very interesting 9 minute video attachment that discusses how parenting has altered since the time of the baby boomers right up to Gen X parents. The synopsis was that as parents spent less time with their children, their personal needs for acceptance and validation as a loving parent drove them to behave as the child's friend more so than a traditional role of mother or father. As Gen X babies grew up with more and more lax environments they too subsequently portrayed even more exacerbated behavior.

"Generation X parents are even worse about coddling their kids. To many many Gen X parents, children are just an accessory you get to dress up with ironic t-shirts and fauxhawks."

Most of my blogs have been more theoretical, even borderline rhetorical, not allowing for a lot of direct dialogue and interaction with the audience (that's you, btw). And seeing that both you Aubry and Susan & Justin and Jessica both have lovely young daughters of your own. I wanted to see what your reaction was to the article and video above.
How willing and able do you think you could be at allowing your children to engage in potentially dangerous situations without supervision?
As this trend of hyper-protectivity (not a real word) continues and your children's peers are winy little brats who always get what they want and are rewarded for mediocrity, what will you do to educated them on how they will be held to higher standards, etc?
I'm sure you've thought of these things; maybe even tried to put them in the back of your mind and just enjoy the first "simple" years without all this hoopla and sociocultural issues.
But even the first years have such impressionable periods and lessons to be learned in regards to the child's relationship to others, risk v. reward, work ethic, and even vital developmental skills that can't be achieved from a glass bubble or a Dora the Explorer interactive DVD set (i don't even know if such a thing exists yet, but it will).

At any rate, they're your kids; so the bachelors philosophy may not carry as much weight as he would like, but I thought it would be fun food-4-thought.

On a side note, Albertson's was having a sale on Pomegranate Blueberry Juice (next to the simply orange and other beverages) and it is exquisitely yummy.

Hormel v. PETA

2008-09-29T18:39:00.002-06:00

Now, i consider myself an animal lover just as much as the next guy (preferably medium rare and well seasoned), but beyond the realm of satirical humor the following is as far from funny as can be. A recent investigation by PETA revels very disturbing and downright perverse actions on the part of pig farm workers that are suppliers for Hormel, the biggest name in pork since Wilber. Now, everyone knows that a slaughterhouse is no picnic for the main ingredient in that #4 combo you bought at the drive-thru window recently, but if you don't wanna lose your stomach (as I almost did) I encourage you NOT to click the below link. These are some sadistic and vile people and I hope the entire industry gets a look at and violators of such actions are held accountable.
Now, I doubt Hormel has adequate knowledge about these actions, and if this video gains enough press - they'll disavow all involvement, cancel the supplier, and make some donation to save face.

PETA PIG FARM VIDEO - viewer discretion is advised

The 7 a.m. Blues

2008-09-14T15:23:00.011-06:00

The night was sultry. A vulnerable Grayson has just been possessed by a demonic force that forces him to log into BYU and sign up for classes far too early for any normal Adams to endure. With a swift click of the mouse his victim's fate is sealed. Now for 4 months the wretched youth shall be bound the bugling call of the angel of death, a small alarm clock, with beady red numbers and the cry of a banshee descended from the line of the eternally annoying Fran Drescher.
Woe to this student of sorrow!!!!!!

Yes, it helps me find a parking space before all the other clones have even had a chance at stumbling out their front doors, but getting to school at 6:45?!?! Jeez louise; it's murder, I tell ya.

My Secret? Clear and Clear Morning Burst Face "Stuff".

Perks you right up, well - sort of.

Step 1: Manage to get in shower without opening eyes
Step 2: Grope around for the right bottle of "stuff"
Step 3: Lather Face and inhale like you're Rick James at an 80s coke party
Step 4: Stand under cascading steaming water until motor skills become fully functional (approximately 15min)

The Hyperbolic Eclair of Death & Other Tales

2008-08-05T19:53:00.015-06:00

The weekend of Aug 1-2 began with great perilous peril and ended in a near diabetic coma.
These are the facts.
For some time now I've been itching to test out my new gear and see the wilds of Washington. Well after some half@ss planning, alleged miscommunications, strategic coaxing, and bad weather to boot, we (Myself, Todd R., Nathan R. (brother of Todd R.)) finally loaded up the truck with the kayaks and gear and shipped out NW towards our destination 1.5 hours behind schedule.
The "plan" was to take the 3 kayaks up from Longbranch 2 nautical miles before low tide through Pit Passage towards a little place called Pit Island (imaginative, I know) and stay the night after playing three man capture the flag with glow sticks as flags (ingenious, by the way).
Preliminary satellite reconnaissance provided by Google surveillance confirmed previously established intel from multiple sources that the island was A) uninhabited and 2); yes, "two", adequately secluded.
Fun Sentence, BTW ~ go me.
We would be able to launch from a harbor and ride the tide out hugging the coast of McNeil Island. It would go swimmingly perfect. Or so we thought. DUHN DUHN DUUUUUUHN!!!!!
After stopping for a pizza (remember the coaxing bit?) we grabbed the last bit of gear we needed from another Rawlings sibling that lives up the way and were in the water with the sun already ducking its radioactive head behind the horizon. After a quick lie to the dockmaster about us going to somewhere that is legal to kayak we were off. The water was mildly choppy and brisk and the going was relatively easy.
Then, as dark began to fall we noticed that not 300 yards from pit island were people launching fireworks on the other shore (See Map 2, Point A). Thus, in the true manner of white man deception we proceeded to kayak beyond Pit island on the eastside using the island to block the view of those on shore. (Y) As we landed on on the rocky shores of the far side we noticed what seemed to be rather new signs measuring 8'x4' "PROPERTY OF McNEIL ISLAND, MAINTAIN CLEARANCE OF 100 YARDS"
Turns out McNeil houses a medium security prison less than 2 miles from where we were.... Awesome.
So now we've surveyed the eastside of the island and because of cliffs (10-20') we cant get to the ideal camping site without approaching from the westside of the island. Back in the boats. Using bird calls, hand signals and telepathy we ninja stealth paddled around the backside of Pit Island under a clouded night sky. (From Y -> Z) At which point a 50 billion halogen flood light went on at another residence close by where the fireworks were going off. (B) Now, having been in this situation before, I was keen on the fact that when lights seem to be "right on you" in fact those standing near the light source have limited visibility beyond a certain range depending on the focus of the beam.
Note to Aubry: A certain set of truck headlights at a certain ranch on a certain moonless night come to mind, if I remember correctly. "Oh Sh*t, Oh Sh*t, we're gonna die!"
With Kayaks carried and stowed away behind another "Get the Hell of this Island" big ole sign (Z) we proceed to take the essentials to the predetermined campsite to set up. (X) Unfortunately we had already decided, given the circumstances, that a fire would not be advisable.
Now, I don't know what is was, but for some reason, this island and the situation was as scary as all get out.

Oh wait, I do remember. BONES.
BONES, EFFING, EVERYWHERE, AND NO WILDLIFE, RIGHT WHERE WE'RE SETTING UP CAMP.

Nathan: What's that right there?
Todd: Looks like a rib to me.
Grayson: Yeah but not a human rib, it's too small (the rational scientific analytical answerer)
Todd (holding the rib up to his chest cavity where it fits perfectly: Sure about that?

Then every freaky sound imaginable happens, Blair Witch Project style. Stuff falling out of trees, rockslides coming from McNeil Island, (C) Blood-curdling screams of "Help me, Help me! Oh sweet mercy, he's got a chainsaw and a hockey mask!" The whole nine yards.

Twenty Minutes later there is over 600lbs of Man in my lightweight backpacking tent that was clearly designed for 1.5 real people, 2 Asians, or 4 oompa-loompas, but not 3 grown heterosexual men. Bad night all around, I'd have to say; complete with nightmares and snoring to boot. And considering that I had a full Ziploc back of trail mix right outside the tent door I was a bit concerned about ravenous aquatic bears. I've never regretted not bring my gun with me more than then. Oh, and patrol boats were all over the place too. And the glowsticks didn't glow.

I hate you, Lowes Hardware.

Click adjacent map for full details.

Stuff happened Saturday morning, but is of little consequence until we come to the meaning of the title of this blog.
You see, there's this little restaurant called the Claim Jumper , originally out of Californi-way. And they have AMAZING foods (including a burger called "The Widowmaker") and house honey mustard sauce. We went there, and we gorged ourselves. Then however, against all logical data about how much the human stomach and digestive system can hold, we ordered this mammoth dessert called the I Declair. Ice Cream based, homemade eclair atop with whipped cream and fudge bundled around and over everything. Enough said? It was the bestworst thing I've ever done with food to this day. Went to bed at 5pm, woke up at noon the next day.

Kinda like how I feel right now. So if you were looking for a conclusionary summary. and closure? Bite me.

I Buy with My Little Eye...

2008-07-22T18:01:00.007-06:00

I don't remember exactly what triggered me, but I came to the decision that my life should be spend more outdoors than it currently is (lived). And where better to get campy than in the evergreen state - amirite? So a quick trip to REI and a few hundred bucks later I'm prepped and ready for any number of solo expositions into the unknown. So much for living with a budget, right? Yeah, my self control is total weaksauce. But look at all this awesome swag!

Katadyn Viro Microfilter: capable of filtering over 500 gallons at variable speeds depending on the purity of the source, AND can be attached directly to a bottle or camelbak intake valve. Awesome.

Second. when you're cold and in the wilds, it all boils down to core temperature and layering. Answer - Vests. The fact that this one also destroys windshear and looks sweet is a bonus, as well.

Lastly, (and this has been a needed addition for many a year) is a the Lost Ranger +15F Sleeping "System" from Big Agnes. 600 fill goose down with built-in sleeve for air mattress ensures that you'll never slippy slide off in the middle of the night finding yourself atop a jagged rock in your kidney. At under 3 pounds is perfect for backpacking and versatile enough for camping in warmer to moderate climates. And what I didn't fully realize before, is that REI is mega-anal about customer satisfaction inasmuch that if you're not 100% AT ANY TIME return the item for refund or exchange. No questions asked AND at the end of the year 10% of purchases are returned to the customer as a dividend. Frickin A, man.
So now all we need is a good sunny weekend, a destination, and a map. I probably won't be summiting Mount. St. Helens anytime soon, but hey. You never know - there is a Mt. Adams just a hop skip and jump east of there. Maybe it would be a good psychological and metaphorical achievement.

Am I a Material Girl?

2008-06-29T22:37:00.004-06:00

No. I don't listen to Madonna.

Let's just make that abundantly clear right here and now.

However, I~having recently acquired a paycheck for two weeks of laborious labors~ have experienced a very typical American reaction to getting money.

The dire & mindless need to spend it as fast & shameless as humanly possible.

Prior to receiving the said paycheck I had schemed down on a list (oh, how I love to make lists, and lists of lists) how I would divvy up each paycheck for optimum financial gain.

10% - Tithing ( we're hoping God knows a good credit repair guy)
10% - Long Term Savings (liquid)
10% - Investment Pool
20% - Outstanding Debt Service on Credit Cards and Student Loans
30% - Provo Rent and other obligatory payments
20% - Feel Good Money

I was very proud of this little formula until I actually deposited the funds at my local Wells Fargo.
Not two weeks later and I am now back where I started. No I didn't blow it on ammo, cheap thrills and gadgetry (more on that later) the student loan sharks took most of it, and then OPEC claimed a nice chunk, and then I have myself to blame for some luxuries associated with food and racquetball.

Too much month and the end of the money - they always say. Damn straight, people.

However, I have one happy discipline story to be had from all of this.

As the Moores already know, I haven't had a phone upgrade since '04, and the darn thing is nearly busted. Well, yours truly had his eye on a pretty little iPhone competitor called Sprint Instinct. Which has a number of advantageous features over the the Gen 1 iPhone, mind you.

Unfortunately the plan for all the bells and whistles would end up being some where around $1000 a year..... I'm not going to pay a grand just so I can check my friggin email in between classes or on the road, and even if the GPS and touchscreen and 8GB memory and digital voicemail and web browser and hi resolution streaming video are all super snazzy I can't justify the cost compared with what my avg usage would be. So, I've decided to dip my toe into the icy waters of the law of sacrifice pool by getting a simpler phone that will not be so hard on a wallet that's already been shot and bled dry. I know. Big step for us 21st century saints - giving up the latest and greatest communications device, but there you have it. Tuesday is payday again, and this time I'll be biting the bullet and render unto Caesar that which is Caesar and unto Caesar's pizza...well you get the idea.

10.33 - time to shuffle on downstairs and get ready for another day.

Growing up sucks. The End.

http://www.bizjournals.com/kansascity/stories/2008/06/23/daily23.html

Now What?

2008-06-17T22:22:00.003-06:00

I've been asking myself that question for the last seven years now. Although to my defense there have been definitive "do this" moments, but for the general outline it's been like one of those oil/sand desk flippy art things - shifty and inconsistent. Yes, I looked for a picture online but no luck so you're just going to have to use your imagination cuz I ain't changing my metaphor, dang it.

5 minutes later.

Seems I wasn't really sure where I was going with this idea...bummer.

I guess the point was today was a nice day- albeit the sun is a stranger this washingtonian summer - and instead of making plans that are bound to a sequential A-B-C order in order for its ultimate success it's better to just experience the present; do some A, some C, maybe even a little J & in the end see where you end up. Not a new thought by any measure, but there you have it.
A Slacker's Guide to the Galaxy, :)

...I'm not seeing any cheese around here

The Story of a White Boy and the mischieous TOM-TOM

2008-05-30T17:42:00.002-06:00

Reminds you of Hummingbird Lane, doesn't it? Eh? Behind Walmart and all those ditches...and things.

Represent.

Enjoy, Aubdawg

Hot Off the Press

2008-05-28T19:28:00.002-06:00

This just in.....

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull -

Sucks.

Someone said it was better than Temple of Doom - lies.
I even went in with low (we're talking low here) expectations.
But not low enough.

After over a decade of rumors, anticipation, and preparation this was what the minds of Lucas/Spielberg were able to come up with ?!?!

It wasn't gawdawful, but it wasn't what i needed

Shea LaBeouf - Tool
H. Ford - Tired
Bad Guys - Poor russian accent
Plot - WTF, are you friggin kidding me?

Sigh. Sleepy, feeling a midday nap coming on.

Deuce.

Chill Tune

2008-05-26T15:18:00.012-06:00

Mason Jennings - Ballad for my One True Love

Happy Memorial Day everyone.

When in Rome...

2008-05-25T19:38:00.002-06:00

No, I didn't elope off to Italy, or anywhere for that matter. But I am in Washington and it is a doozie. Probably the most Washingtonian thing I've done is listen to Nirvana's "Heart Shape Box" while driving through the streets of Tacoma (south of Seattle) looking for the DMV. Which was closed that day, go figure. Work starts not this week but NEXT week, and as to what that will entail, I have no clue. So yeah, Washington. It rains here. and I have to pay 1.75 to get across a bridge everyday that I drive. Darn Hippies and their bridges and their taxes. I've taken up residency with the Rawlings, where a mission friend of mine lives with his folks and whose older brother is my employer-to-be. To keep myself occupied when I'm home alone during the day, I've been blistering my fingers away on Rock Band for the PS3. It's like Guitar Hero but with karaoke, bass and drum options as well. Very fun.

So I guess BlueRay has been all but officially declared the winner of High Def Media. Darn. I was really rooting against Sony on that one. But unlike the VHS/BETA battles of the late 80s, today's consumer is far more tech savvy and demanding (and willing) for higher quality entertainment.

I heard Indiana was "OK", I'll probably see it tomorrow or something.

We play racquetball almost everyday and I've decided I definitely sweat more in this humid coastal environment than in Utah

I also decided that the 1.5 people who are likely to read this should be aware of the above information. and that you should be grateful for it as well.

So yeah, unless you have babies this is the kind of thing you blog about, I guess. Summer Blockbusters, indoor sports, and perspiration.

The End.

If I only had a plan

2008-05-12T08:17:00.008-06:00

May 1, 2008

Dear Grayson,

Congratulations! Upon review of your application, you have been accepted into the Facility and Property Management Major Program... et cetera - et cetera, so on and so forth.

Well. Not only did I not get kicked out of school this semester, but I even managed to finagle my way into the program of my preference. Jolly Good. Now however I have the daunting task of looking at exactly how long it will be before I graduate. This should be interesting.

State of the Adams Union

Total Hours Completed: 102
Hours Remaining For Graduation: 77.5
Classes Repeated: 3
A's: 13______ B's: 13
C's: 4 _______ D's: 4
E's: 3 _______ W's: 1

GPA: 2.94

Scheduled Classes

Spring 2008 Independent Study:
Org B 320: Organizational Effectiveness, 3.0

Fall 2008
CM 105: Construction Documents, 3.0
CM 210: Light Structural Systems, 3.0
CM 211: Finishing Methods, 2.0
PAS 103: Residential Landscape Design, 3.0
BusM 300: Financial Management, 3.0
BusM 371R: Entrepreneur Lecture Series, 1.0
Rel 355: Jews and the Gospel, 1.0
Total Hours: 16.0

Age:26
Winter 2009
CM 155: Architectural Drafting, 3.0
CM 241: Electrical Systems, 2.0
CM 311: Quantity Takeoffs 3.0
CM 320: Mechanical Systems, 3.0
CM 426: Real Estate Principles and Development, 4.0
Rel 356: Islam & the Gospel, 1.0
Total Hours: 16.0

Spring 2009
BusM 340: Marketing Management, 3.0
Org B 327: Human Resource Management, 3.0

Summer 2009
FM 199R: Technical Internship, 2.0

Fall 2009
FM 291R: FM Lecture Series, 0.5
FM 310: Human & Environmental Management, 3.0
FM 360: Facility and Property Management Technologies, 3.0
CM 385: Construction Contracts and Law, 3.0
CM 412: Scheduling and Cost Control, 3.0
FM 420: Commercial Real Estate Management, 2.0
RMYL 483: Public Facility Management, 3.0
Total Hours: 16.5

Age: 27
Winter 2010
MCOM 320: Communication in Organizational Setting, 3.0
FM 340: Operations and Maintenance, 3.0
FM 399R: Capstone Internship, 3.0
CM 411: Advanced Estimates and Bidding, 3.0
CM 415: Project Management & Control, 3.0
FM 430: Capital Planning and Management, 3.0
Total Hours: 18.0

Just looking at this massive grocery list of classes makes me sleepy. But at least the end is in sight, right? You'll notice that there are no "in class" courses scheduled for this summer. Well, I've been given an opportunity in Washington just south of Seattle to work for a mission buddy's brother's management firm. It should be neat. More on this subject later.

An LDS Perspective on LSD

2008-05-02T02:50:00.009-06:00

The druggiest substance I've ever been privy to in my days was some Vicodin when I got my wisdom teeth pulled. Even then, under a prescribed dosage, I said things and behaved in ways very uncharacteristic to my public nature.

However.

Given a choice with a guarantee of zero consequences, psychedelics probably would shed some light on a few Pink Floyd songs that I've been listening to, as of late.

The real question that I propose at this juncture, is the following:

Do you have 21 minutes and 38 seconds to sacrifice your full attention to the following chill and mellow melody? Go ahead, think about it. I'll wait.

----

"Echoes" has three short verses with one of the longest bridges you've ever heard (AABA if B is the bridge) - and to be frank, it's was a bit tedious until I personalized some imaginative visuals to accompany it.

This instrumental break is more interesting to me than the lyrics themselves (be they, awesome as they are)

With themes of eternity, timelessness, infinity (all those abstracts) the music takes a constant steady and strong tone after the second verse. Kind of like a part of human history that is accepted as fact and heralded as a personification to man's greatness. But then, right around 10:30 (in this particular version), that slow steady beat fades away into obscurity, as history falls into legend, then myth, and is at last forgotten in some deep chasm beneath the ocean - screaming out occasionally, yet completely unheard. Until eons have passed, and everything about the former song is lost to memory until 6:45 on the second clip, when perhaps by chance or providence - something is being excavated, invigorated, brought into the light. Until finally, suddenly and almost violently, it breaks forth from an unseen darkness and blinds the world with it glory. And that, which no one believed existed only moments before, is staring them right in the face - apocalyptic and indisputable.
It's powerful moment of return, the third verse, feels all too short but all the same - familiar and warm. Then, it too fades away, remembered by a new generation, waiting in its own time to come back to life at some future point in time and space.

This may be the 3:13 A.M. in me talking, I realize that. But I think it's one of the most reflective and satisfying songs composed. Ever.

Overhead the albatross hangs motionless upon the air
And deep beneath the rolling waves
In labyrinths of coral caves
The echo of a distant time
Comes willowing across the sand
And everything is green and submarine.

And no-one called us to the land
And no-one knows the wheres or whys
But something stirs and something tries
And starts to climb towards the light

Strangers passing in the street
By chance two separate glances meet
And I am you and what I see is me
And do I take you by the hand
And lead you through the land
And help me understand the best I can

And no-one calls us to move on
And no-one forces down our eyes
And any-one speaks and no-one tries
And no-one flies around the sun

Cloudless everyday you fall upon my waking eyes
inviting and inciting me to rise
And through the window in the wall
Come streaming in on sunlight wings
A million bright ambassadors of morning

And no-one sings me lullabies
And no-one makes me close my eyes
And so I throw the windows wide
And call to you across the sky

Redemption

2008-04-08T23:41:00.001-06:00

Hi.

Chicken Coop Fairy Tales (FW)

2008-04-01T23:36:00.002-06:00

I've been charged to list 10 random things about myself and it may come across as no surprise that I've procrastinated the effort. However, now being 25 minutes to deadline and with nothing else for a topic to write about I surrender the following.

Randoms of Mr. Random, himself

1. I have a special affinity for squirrels, inasmuch that if I'm ever allowed to make a world, my first course of action will be to remove all disgusting vile arachnid creatures from the program and replace them with miniature squirrels that climb on your shoulder and give advice when they're not killing insects.

2. When I was in my early teens I was still getting offered a child's menu at restaurants. Just last week, someone mistook me to be the father of someone who is only 4 years my junior (Alyssa).

3. My preferred mutant (special) power would most definitely be stopping time just like the girl from the show "Out of this World" where she put her index fingers together. Naturally there would be no aging effects on myself during these periods of prolonged time stoppage. I would never be late or miss a deadline and when I got tired of being around people I could take a year off anytime I wanted. It would be rad.

4. When I feel anxious, I clean my room (well, sort of)

5. My favorite on campus game is "finish the sentence" as I hear a soundbyte from someone's conversation passing by and then finish it with the most ridiculously possible outcome of my own invention.

6. I like the things I like, but when I see someone else behaving similarly often I mock disapprovingly at their actions.

7. I do voices when no one is around to hear me, for my own amusement.

7. I like to mess with people's minds. (gotcha)

9. That which I'm not supposed to laugh at is what I find the most comical.

10. I spent twenty minutes trying to think of a good number 10, gave up, and poured myself a glass of chocolate milk. Mmmm, good stuff.

FW

2008-03-30T23:46:00.001-06:00

its late

(FW) My Side of the Bowl 2

2008-03-20T20:35:00.012-06:00

My Side of the Bowl
Part Deux: Below All things

The air hung humid and lactose heavy. Charlie begrudgingly pried his eyes open but only got them halfway; the light was giving him a blinding headache. “Back up! Give ‘em som’ room!”, said a hearty voice from behind. The other O’s shifted their weight on the constant but gentle tide of the milk below. “That was quite tha spill ‘ya took, laddy. Stupid really, but brave I’ll give ya’ that mooch.” His robust accent was gruff but jolly nonetheless. Charlie suspected that his wheat was of Irish origin. “How…how long was I out?” But before light could illuminate his questions, Charlie and those around him were suddenly scooped to the edge of the bowl. He looked over his shoulder just in time to see nearly a dozen of his fellow O’s begin to rise into the air, milk cascading over the rim of a massive stainless steel ship. “Farewell!” They shouted to those below. "The rapture hath declared us - the firstborn, elect above all others!” and then they disappeared into the air above. Zealot-O’s. Always declaring this birthright or claiming that predestination; Charlie was glad that they were finally gone and from the look of it so was everybody else. “Okay” He said shaking the last mothballs from his head. “You can do it Charlie, you’re ready.” This little self affirmation reminded Charlie of a particular Saturday Night Live episode he had once seen and it made him smile confidently.

Everything happened all at once, but at the same time, backwards and forwards and every other kind of “-wards” imaginable, yet it happened all the same.

The spoon-ship is now returning to the sea of O’s, their eyes wide, their mouths agape. It is coming right for him, but something is not right. He is looking at the bottom of the ship as it passes over him and in the convex mirror Charlie sees himself, confused and immobile. The ship dives into the O’s ahead, creating a massive shockwave both liquid and solid in form. He is lifted up and over the porcelain wall, teeters, and then falls. This is not like the fall out of the box. This is something rather alien and though Charlie searches for the word to describe it all (later referring to it as quintessential surrealism) he is at a loss for words, a loss for mind. So, he just falls, and while he does so Charlie decides the blame for all of this undoubtedly must belong to vitamin B6, and he remembers the omen from earlier that day. Then, in the moment before impact Charlie can think of nothing else and settles on a sigh and an inaudible “…figures” before he hits the surface below.

Hours passed. Charlie woke, convinced that this was some form of afterlife and had it not been for the throbbing pain in his side, his faith would have been complete. He was in fact, not dead and this new prison in which he found himself had been his savior; for the heal sole of an athletic shoe is rather elastic and forgiving, at least inasmuch as a falling cheerio can rely on. Gathering his wits, Charlie scanned for an escape route and, finding none, began to move toward the dark tunnel ahead. “What manner of place is this?” postulated Charlie “Where the earth is spongy and gives off a most offensive odor” He had heard of a place called New Mexico from a Pop-Tart at a distribution center, but quickly decided that this probably wasn’t it and considering the lack of credibility amongst fruit filled pastries, it probably didn’t even exist. Wherever he was, Charlie meant to find an exit and return to the bowl as soon as possible.
Ironically, it was the end of the cave that found Charlie before he found it. The all too familiar feeling of uncontrolled descent overcame Charlie for a third time and with his back against the wall a massive white sheathed five headed monstrosity entered the mouth of the cave and advanced on his position. “Back! Back I say!” but his voice could not match the courage of his heart, for it was saturated in dread and would not obey him. Charlie concluded that this was the end. He would be squished into a decrepit bran flake, his crumbs ground into dust. And to his shame, (which he told of to no one in his own account in later years) in the moment before the eyeless soulless creature devoured him, Charlie fainted and was thankful he did.

My Side of the Bowl: A Cheerio's Tale (TA)

2008-03-18T20:46:00.005-06:00

My Side of the Bowl
Inspired by a true story

Today was the day, that much was certain. When it came to record keeping and statistics, there was none more scrupulous than little Charlie, and by his calculations there was more than an 85% probability that today, this cold and dry Saturday morning would be his day. Pouring Day. Many of his brothers and sisters had already made the great journey, being packaged closer to to the top. For the last three weeks every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday morning (and sometimes Friday night) more and more of his kin had plunged excitedly into a variety of bowls both plastic and porcelain. Now there remained but only a few left at the bottom of the box and Charlie had spent the night making sure he was on top, closest to freedom. Fighting the urge to count away the seconds, he checked his provisions - placing everything in order. Whole grain goodness; check. Honey glazed coating; check. Supplementary vitamins and minerals; check. Everything seemed to be in order, and why shouldn't it be? He had in fact triple and quadruple checked merely minutes before. Once having been certain that he had misplaced vitamin B6 whereby causing a wave of panic and a terrifying image of failed amino acid assembly. Fortunately, it had been tucked in his back pocket and he had long since moved it to a more accessible location. Charlie sighed, absentmindedly checking his watch again. 9:48 A.M. It would be any moment now, he was sure of it, even insistent upon it. Then, a sound. Charlie didn't breathe, didn't even think lest his thoughts muffle the sound again. He waited. THUMP. THUMP. It was getting closer and then, without warning, it stopped. For what seemed like a month, Charlie denied the impulse to inhale, his shell now turning an acute blue. When he thought he could endure no more, the whole box was abruptly tossed from side to side. Charlie fell far and hard only to be catapulted once again upward, and then everything began to slide sideways and blinding light filled the dark void of the box. He was no longer at the vanguard of the O's, in fact, he was certain he had been placed virtually at the end of the line, all of his efforts having proved hopelessly futile. But then, he saw it. Gleaming, clean and concave; it was the bowl, and time seemed to halt at the sight of it. Reinvigorated by its beauty, Charlie schemed a daring plan. Forcing himself onto his side, he launched into a never-ending cartwheel, throwing all sense of caution and apprehension the wind. He would not be denied, not this time, not today. He was building momentum now, more than he had counted on and from the cyclical glimpses of the bowl he could already see that it was clearly filling up, almost to the brink. And then, the box began to change angles, pulling up and away from the bowl. It was now or never. With a final twist, Charlie dove over the edge and began to free fall through the air to the bowl far below. From his vantage point he could see the horror and dismay on the faces of the other O's below, who clearly did not believe that Charlie would hit his mark, but would fly right past the lip of the bowl into nothingness and grout. Charlie however, had not come this far to meet such a dishonorable end. Leaning back against the upward draft, his decent redirected slightly to the left and, bracing for impact, Charlie closed his eyes and landed with a heavy SNAP. Then the world dimmed and voices turned into distant muffles, but just before he lost consciousness, Charlie felt the cool creamy texture of milk washing over, through, and around him. He felt lighter, buoyant on its surface And then everything turned dark, and Charlie collapsed into a dreamless sleep, knowing that before the end came he would be awake to greet it.

To be continued...

Two Birds, One Pint Chow Mein (RhyAnalysis - kinda)

2008-03-11T22:07:00.005-06:00

I don't think 400 unwritten words have ever seemed so intimidating, cumbersome, and grizzly. Even right now you're thinking, "grizzly? WTF would be grizzly about it? and why am I swearing in acronyms all of the sudden? Who am I, Samuel L. Jackson? There's no snakes on this plane, what am I so worked up about?" I wish I had the answers to all your questions faithful reader - but I don't.

Cliche inbound, brace for impact.

I find that as I get older there are a lot of answers to questions (like those listed above) that I don't know.

300 words to go.

I found our discussion in class about style rather interesting as it brought up several issues I have with my - quote unquote Style. Even from my blogs most of what I would consider style is merely me trying to keep myself amused while I complete an assignment (some of which I'm rather proud of, if I do say so myself).

Other times after I've read some fictional work or another I'll see aspects of THAT author sneaking into my head and writing for a finite period and then it dissolves away until I pick up a new work - a new author. Other times my writing seems to be cyclical revolving on a wheel of sarcasm to somber to irreverent - round and round we go. So who has style - or impressive style from what I know? When I was a kid (3rd grade I think) riding home on the bus an older kid always had a stack of Calvin and Hobbes that he would share with me for the 40 minute ride to home. I remember getting to the point where I had read every book so many times that I would open the book, look at the first caption and remember the entire strip - laugh and then move on to the next. I'd be willing to even state that most of my vocabulary probably came from Bill Watterson.
The imagination, dry wit, and satire that accompanied every adventure along side Calvin & Hobbes as they fought mutant killer snow demons or the villainized babysitter or the infamous (in famous? IN FAMOUS?!!) bully Moe always stuck with me and account for how I see and interpret the world around me in a big way. How big I'll neglect to divulge considering that such eccentricities should remain behind shut (and often padlocked) doors. At least, that's been the Adams policy for a good 15 years running now. Although they do sneak out on occasion and run amuck - leaving a trail of confusion, amusement, and stale Doritos in their wake.

So keep a look out, or that next dorito just might be you.

Midnight Haikus

2008-03-09T23:36:00.002-06:00

Time has no mercy;
Warden of our matchbox lives;
Burning bridges down.

Hydrogen Blows (RA)

2008-02-28T16:20:00.002-07:00

My topic research source was the documentary "Who killed the Electric Car?"

The documentary follows the conception, production, and recall of General Motor's EV1 electric vehicle that was introduced to the California market in the mid 90s.

Naturally, topics included a number of suspects for the termination of domestic EV (electric vehicle) including; General Motors, Oil Companies, California Air Resource Board (C.A.R.B), the Federal Government, and U.S. Consumers.

Chris Paine (writer / director) approaches the need for electric car technology from an predominately environmental perspective, giving statistics on southern California smog data and related health issues before addressing the issue of the demand and qualifications of the EV1. A majority of the information regarding the hindrance of the EV1 project suggests that GM is the primary suspect in the failure of the electric movement for various reasons.
1. Their advertising was extremely limited and inconsistent with previously successful advertising strategies
2. The EV1 was only available to the market under a lease option; when the lease expired no extensions were granted and all EV1 vehicles where impounded and crushed.
3. Markets that produced the highest amount of consumer demand and waiting list potential were closed down first so that market demand could be downplayed to the C.A.R.B.
4. Initial EV1 models were equipped with outdated battery systems in spite of more efficient technology available to GM.
5. A document from 1995 clearly expressed that the challenge to GM was how to control and discourage an overwhelming market acceptance to the EV concept

The area that I'll be focusing my efforts is on how the auto industry with the assistance of the federal government created this carrot on a stick alternative of Hydrogen Cell Cars.

Paine exposes that although the electric car is ready today the Hydrogen Cell has perpetually been 10-15 years away from production since the early 90s. The average car currently costs $1000000, hydrogen fuel cell stations are limited and inconvenient when compared with the plug in feature of the EV1. The amount of energy needed to run the vehicle is 4 times greater than electric, and the problem of hydrogen storage has not been solved by the industry.

The discontinuation of all hydrogen cell research, or at lease federally assisted research, in favor of hybrid systems is the focus of my topic.

That being said how much to devote to why hydrogen cell systems are lame as opposed to why hybrid systems that are achieving 148 mpg is so cool will need to be considered.

And that is 415 words. Have a nice day.

A Risk Worth Taking

2008-02-26T22:08:00.004-07:00

If a picture is worth a 1000 words, then technically I've exceed the requirements for todays assignment; dont you think? Sit, look, and ponder.
Well, I think points for originality and shear cheek should be awarded, at any rate. But that's probably why I rarely get put in charge, isn't it?

Julie Andrew's Unsung Song (Free Write)

2008-02-24T22:02:00.006-07:00

“Dear friend, we are here today to counsel you that the time to stop being offended is now." - Elder D. Bednar (Apostle)

No doubt the above advice is something we all need to take seriously and sensibly; but in spite of my greatest and most noble efforts there are still a number of things in this world (and in this county) that make my blood boil and and my eye twitch (the right one, at least) in malevolent disgust. Perhaps by sharing these things we you, loyal readers (thou shalt not snicker) they will become less offensive over time; so let it be written, so let it be done. Amen.

Popped Collars
Presumptuous and unapologetic pedestrians
Bug eye sunglasses
MmmBop
Paulie Shore
Hearing people say "that one movie with Paulie Shore" on campus
Guys who wear pajama pants into the Cougareat
The Maverick Monster
Salesmen who use the missionary tactic of "build a relationship of trust" in the Wilk or Mall
Vegans
Unschool
European swim trunks
Sycophants
Rhombuses ( crafty little devils)
People who use parenthesizes excessively....
The Real World and other MTV atrocities
Hippies
People who talk on their cell phones so that the whole world is keen on 50% of the conversation
Inadvertently meeting Americans in a foreign country
Being surrounded by gigantic black spiders with nothing but a pump action pellet gun for protection and a broken down dune buggy (a dream you wouldn't soon forget either, I guarantee it)
Latter Day Pharisees
iAnything, or at least the notion that something promoted as counterculture can also be mainstream simultaneously.
Esurance
Ulcers
Mountain Standard Time
Awkward Silences
.........................
People who don't get witty jokes
Guys who sing in public places, when they have no business doing so there or anywhere else for that matter.
And finally, to round things out - the word "paradigm"

Well, it's not exactly raindrops on roses but I do feel considerably better than I did beforehand, in fact had I had room for a 31 it would have been "people who complain about too much", nevertheless we all have those certain things that just push the right button, and if you're lucky you'll find yourself in painful proximity to a person who inadvertently, yet skillfully, can push all of them in a choreographed symphony of blistering insanity; Aaah C'est la vie.....

Oh yeah, almost forgot #32 - French ________ (insert word here, excluding toast)

I'd be interested to what the rest of you folk find irksome ~ perhaps a "Top 5" or something

Thursday

2008-02-21T23:02:00.001-07:00

Neato-mosquito.

Cruising at 2:20 a.m. (Rhetorical Analysis)

2008-02-19T21:28:00.007-07:00

Stone Temple Pilots: Big Empty off their 1994 album "Purple"

Sing-along Lyrics

Drivin' faster in my car
falling farther from just what we are
smoke a cigarette and lie some more
these conversations kill
falling faster in my car
Time to take her home
her dizzy head is conscience laden
time to take a ride
it leaves today no conversation
time to take her home
her dizzy head is conscience laden
time to wait too long
to wait too long
these conversations kill

To much walkin', shoes worn thin
too much trippin' and my soul's worn thin
time to catch a ride
it leaves today, her name is what it means
to much walkin', shoe's worn thin

(Chorus 2x)

Unlike visual art like paintings, sculptures, etc. musical and specifically lyrical interpretation can be extremely liberal and broad allowing for multiple translations often giving more insight to the individual and not the composer's intentions. That being said, I find little comfort in divulging my interpretation in this Rorschachian experiment. Nevertheless, this song is kickin' and I create a little mental picture for the proper consumption of the piece.

Drugs, Girls, and Loss. Basically every rock song includes at least one to two of these key ingredients, "Big Empty" scores 3/3 for these criteria and even adds fast cars into the mix. The result - ubertestosteronecoolness (oh it's a word, don't cha know)

This was a perfect fit to the soundtrack of "The Crow" that had such gritty dreamlike quality to it. Each verse peaks with the crescendoing chorus before sinking back into the hazy stew of somber reflection and piercing single string guitar picking. Then there is the instrumental bridge that begins at 3:13 and over the next 35 seconds slowly simmers (hows that for a metaphor?) to an eventual overload of emotional riffs and drum beats.

For "some" (nice and vague), it's the perfect song for the open road in the middle of the night , whether around town or cross country and thoughts of personal reflection coupled with sleep depraved apathy are at their most inviting and sleep just isn't an option. All the more lucky are you if you're driving a car with a standard transmission thus allowing for timely shifting and high RPMs. However, should you be lacking a functional fuel pump like "some" of us, you might be reduced to making the shifting sounds with your lips like a 5 year old, possibly bringing unwanted attention to "yourself"; doing so in a supermarket with your cart up and down the aisles is ill advised, 2am or otherwise.

7 points for naming the source of the adjacent picture ---->

Of Mustache and Men

2008-02-14T18:37:00.013-07:00

1 In the beginning (mid 2007) there was the beard.
2 And the bearer of the beard trimmed it to a fashion and saw that it was good.
3 And the Bearded did groom it and wash it and set a border around about it to guard it against his enemies.
4 And for a season, the Bearded did take rest from his labors and departed into a far off land.
5 And after some time, the Bearded returned and found his face shaven and razor-burned, and pale from lack of light, for his enemies had come in the night and taken from him that which was most precious to him in the name of their honor code.
6 And the former Bearded one wept for he saw that his labor was in ruin and his face barren and lo his sorrow was great;
7 And it came to pass, that the Shaven did go forth once again and did sow root in the middle of the face thereof, and did nurture it, and hedged it, and styled it with the tools that he had made of his own hands.
8 And not many days thereafter, his labor was complete; And because his work was not like unto that which he had done prior, he gave it a new name.
9 And the Shaven called it, mustache. Which is to say, guardian of the lip, after the language of his forefathers.
10 And it came to pass, that the mustache did prosper exceedingly in the land; at least so thought the Mustacher.
11 But his enemies did come down again from the hills and from their hiding places disguised in a manner similar to that of the Mustacher; and lo they did work in all manner of abominations and whoredoms, convincing the people of the land that the mustache was the source and power of their iniquities, which were many.
12 And behold, the people knew not the true mustache from the impostor and because they did thus fear so, they did cast them all into the fires, and into pits, and into lions dens; and this they did in their hearts and in their minds and in shifty eyes.
13 And fearing the loss of his own ego, the Mustacher did depart thence from the land into the wilderness northward called Canada; and there he did find peace and sanctuary.

- The Gospel of Yanni, Chapter 5

Ok, but seriously guys, I'm fully aware of what the "stache" looks like; I do have mirror you know. But my condescension and self sacrifice has been the means to a much grander experiment and social observation. Having been on campus consistently now for over 6 weeks, I have discovered infallible proof of the following;

Guys with mustaches can't be nice EVER, only creepy.

At least for those of us who are a) single b) under 35 and c) in happy valley
There is not a hallway you can stroll, no door you can open for someone else, nor lollipop you can offer to little kids out of the back of a van without getting those oh-so-blatant eyes of mistrust. {That being said sometimes sarcasm and satire can even turn around and bite you if you're not too careful(come on, people)}

So where does this perception come from? Well I'm glad you asked, because A-holes throughout history have been abusing their mustache privileges and causing all sorts of negative externalities (side effects) on us modern folk.

Example A: Adolf Hitler.
Not only did this fascist hurt the image of mustache, HE KILLED A WHOLE STYLE!!! Though not my favorite, who knows where the this cut could have been without 60 years of maltreatment.

Example B: Joe Stalin. And he looks like such a lovable Dedushka, doesn't he? But nooooo, genocide was his Christmas gift to all the good little boys and girls

Example C: John Wilkes Booth. Talk about cheap tactics, shooting the president from behind while he's out at the theater. No wonder people don't want you opening doors for them, they're afraid you wack em over the head with a blackjack.

Example D: Jeffrey Dahmer, A bit more of a contemperary creepy mustache serial killer guy look, complete no less with over-sized glasses and a slight smirk.

But just as there are traitors to the cause there are those defending it as well,
Sir Tom Selleck has done more for the mustache in the last 30 years than any human being, bar none. Friend, we salute you. And Albert Einstein? Well you may have an IQ of 180, but you're still a little freaky, thanks for relativity though, that was pretty sweet.

In this world of proclaimed tolerance, I implore you dear reader to look down deep and see the mustache toting man for who he really is - a kindred spirit, worthy of the same justices and confidence of any other man... unless he really is driving a van and has a lisp, in which case run, just run the other way, screaming bloody murder... or better yet, if he's writing insane blogs on Valentine's Day Eve, that should raise a few red flags; but that's just my opinion.

Technique: Further down the Rabbit Hole

2008-02-12T21:39:00.004-07:00

My original WATCO was centered around the idea of what would happen as more and more children leave the public school system for private schools. It was based on a simple economic model of competition, supply and demand, and free market principles. After several half hours of research apparently I'm talking about vouchers, although I saw the subject sounding a lot cooler in my head. The Voucher program got it's face blown off by the people of Utah in 07; so my immediate relevance has somewhat been shaken considering that Utah Legislators wont touch the subject at all this year. Perhaps I can find a state that is approaching a voucher related vote and position them as an audience. From my brief look at the Utah plan I think the majority of parents agree with the concept of free choice for education, but they don't think their public school systems are so far lost that they're willing to shell out more money for a voucher system.
As of now my position is that vouchers could, with the right regulation and negotiations be awesome, but the execution may be too costly and produce marginal benefits.

It's like unemployment or pollution. You will NEVER get below 3% unemployment and you will NEVER reduce emissions to 0, the cost would increase exponentially the closer you came to these limits; some kids are going to be failures, it's simple statistics. No matter how many computers, or teacher student ratio improvements, or standardize tests you throw at them, some will get "left behind". That being said, the effects that the mere threat of vouchers (a flawed system) has on parent and public awareness of public schools (a FLAWED system) in and of itself has tremendous benefits in reform. Monopolies are bad (public schools with teachers having virtually unlimited job security), unions are bad (NEA), and increased government intervention is bad. No wonder more parents are home schooling their kids (a flawed and naive system)

Techical: Education Brainstorm

2008-02-10T20:25:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure what this is supposed to look like, but I'm going to play word association for this topic, with each word in the list being the immediate association with the one prior to it. I kind of have a direction but perhaps this will lead to uncharted and heartier waters. Enjoy.

Education.
Systems.
Bureaucracy.
Inefficiency.
Alternatives.
Private Schools.
Cost/Benefit Analysis.
Availability.
Relevancy.
Credibility.
Hippies.
Quantitative Results.
U.S. vs. The World.
Cultural Influence.
Minorities.
Bilingualism, advantages.
Structured vs. Liberal approaches.
Military School.
"Unschool"

Well, we're 6 feet closer to nowhere than when we started. In general I'm not interested in the U.S. federal education system, it's simply too big, too slow, and too unchangeable. However, lack of interest doesn't rule out necessity of topic selection, now does it? An associate of mine (yes, once upon a time I had associates, or at least I walked around like I did) once mentioned it was his dream to create a private school that would resemble a business school more so than an elementary school. Economics, real estate, finance, accounting, and law would be more common curriculum over the sciences, arts, etc. No single system is the answer for every child, mailable though they may be. The best way to reform public schools is to give them competition and the more options that become available and accessible to parents, the more tax dollars get routed to the private sector and force Washington to really accomplish something.

Mixed Martial Arts: Sensible Brutality (FREE WRITE)

2008-02-05T23:55:00.000-07:00

A bag of M&M's and a glass of milk. That's my brain trust for this evening's topic.

In the beginning there was an idea. Locker room talk of which discipline of martial arts was superior and what would happen if you put conflicting styles against one another. Boxer vs. Sumo, Wrestler vs. Muay Thai? These questions become dollars for the young entrepreneurs of the UFC in the first ever, "no rules", pay-per-view tournament. It was bare knuckle fights with the option of knock out, tap out, or referee intervention and the results were stunning. Three years into the sport, John McCain received a video tape of a UFC bout and attempted to get the company banned from exhibition opportunities in all 50 states. "Barbarism" was one of his favorite words in his crusade against the young sport. What's hypocritical about this is that McCain was a fan of traditional boxing, which research has shown to be a far more "brutal" and, dare I say, savage option for fighters of fortune. Granted there is more blood, faster action, and hightened aggression in a mixed martial arts fight there is the single most key principle, that when a man is knocked out, the fight is immediately over, end of story, and fights never last over 25 minutes In boxing a man can go over 40 minutes of constant trauma to the brain, get knocked down and thus, knocked out, several times and still be allowed to fight. One need only listen to a rant from Sylvester Stallone to understand what permanent brain damage can do to someone.

Because of all the political pressure over the last 15 years there have been modifications to the sport. Gloves are worn, crotch shots and hits to the back of the skull have been made illegal, weight classes were introduced and excessive blood loss or impaired vision can lead to a fights end. Late last year McCain even reversed his original stated opinion, though considering his presidential election hopes, little anyone says in his position is believable. Fighters are far more versed in defending themselves against a number of attacks and submissions and generally have longer careers than traditional boxers. Although MMA has lost some of its original appeal and the variety of fighters has become watered down, the sport is still growing and a number of competitor companies such as Pride and WEC is proof of the increased demand for this style of fighting.
In the end, guys like watching other guys beat the crap out of each other.

Pictured Left, and by left I mean right: Brian Stann, 1st Lieutenant USMC, MMA light heavyweight contender, certifiable Capt. Awesome.

Free Write: When In Riga...

2008-01-31T19:56:00.000-07:00

Warning: The following blog is saturated with ethnic stereotypes concerning the Baltic state of Latvia; some are true, some are true most of the time, and some are about Russians, which are both true and false and drunk.
Viewer discretion is advised.

The first Latvian person I ever saw was on the flight from Stockholm to Riga. He was hunched over asleep, his hat askew, and was seemingly incoherent of anything going on around him at the time. He was also the pilot.

Latvians don't belong in cities like Riga. They belong far out in the country with their quaint little summer homes and quainter little gardens, digging up potatoes, gathering lingonberries in the forest, and jumping over fires during the pagan Summer solstice festivities, wearing oak leaf crowns, drinking beer and singing songs about drinking beer. That is their natural habitat, their zen place. Unfortunately, the neighbors of the Baltics decided that no one should leave such a docile and happy life, so they invaded. Sweden, Germany, Russia; they all wanted a piece, or sometimes the whole pie. Hence, we have Riga; a city split in two by the lumbering Daugava river. If a grand Europeanesque vacation with days of site seeing, picture taking and cultral exchange is what you had in mind, spend it somewhere else. But if, off the beaten path, is your personal eccentric cup of tea, then maybe there will be something of interest for you here.

A stroll down the cobblestone streets of old town and already you've identified five diverse subgroups. First and foremost are the loud and obnoxious Americans coming back from their group dinner at TGI Friday's, where a waiter will be more than happy to offer you water "with gas, or without gas" in his best english. The Germans are close by gawking up at one of the many church spires, trying to decipher the oversized map of the historical sites to see, systematically marking them off one by one. The tourists of the Oriental variety are draped in amber trinkets and taking pictures of one another by the most obscure and insignificant "memorial" sites, which can sometimes be as dynamic as a street clock or a local colony of hoody cladding adolescent goths (usually over by TGI Friday's under the Liepa trees). And then of course, there are the natives to consider. The Latvian business man with his square toe ankle high boots and striped pants, anxiously making his way through other pedestrians on his way to some very important occasion and the fragile old Russian woman, viscously guarding her carts of knick knacks and paddy wacks and amber trinkets. This is Old Town, and it's what mostly everyone comes to see.

However, if you will bypass all of that rubbish, and beeline straight to the train station, you will find the beating heart of the city - the Tirgus.

This open-air market is home to some of the most prized junk in all the world. The little man under the bridge has his "rolecks" watches, the gypsy woman has her CCCP memorabilia, and then every Vova, Nicoli, and Katya have their rows and rows of leather jackets, soccer jerseys, pirated DVDs, fur hats, orthodox candles, and a million other items that seem to be in every cubicle on every acre of available space. No outsider (foreigner) goes into the Tirgus and actually finds what they were looking for and when they actually DO find something of interest and value it's nowhere to be found the next day when you come back to pick it up. The only thing that stands in the way of it being officially declared a certifiable labyrinth is a christening ritual performed by David Bowie (What babe? The babe with the power). That's why a successful purchase at the market has such a satisfying appeal, because it's basically like an Easter egg hunt, except in this story the easter egg rips or breaks in two weeks and you have to either go back and find a new one or just decide that you don't like eggs anymore and would prefer to go without. And thus we see, that by small and simple means do great and pointless tales come to pass.

Rhetorical Analysis: Cats and Alienhead Norwegians

2008-01-29T20:36:00.001-07:00

*

Fa ra ra ra raaaaa! Ra-ra-ra-raaaaa. That doesn't have anything to do with anything, but I though you might enjoy that bit of timeless humor from A Christmas Story, now then back to more sensible words.
I know you said to refrain from doing the rhetorical analysis until Wednesday but since you shot my paper on guns (puns abound) out of the sky like a Christmas goose, I'm doing it anyways. Besides, I took Humanities 101 like 3 years ago, so basically I know everything there is to know about the arts. That being said, listening to most art critics makes me feel nauseous; a painting is a painting is a painting. To them I say, don't suffocate me with your pompous and pedantic insights about what the artist is really trying to say in his piece, lets' just ask him/her what they think and if they're not around leave me alone and let me enjoy it how and if I may.

" I was walking along a path with two friends—the sun was setting—suddenly the sky turned blood red—I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence—there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city—my friends walked on, and I stood there trembling with anxiety—and I sensed an infinite scream passing through nature." - Edvard Munch

Back in the 19th century most schizophrenics were locked up and subjected to all manner of cruel and unusual therapy (ironically leading many to believe that everyone was out to get them). However, some got to walk on boardwalks with their friends and paint swirly pictures instead. We now call these people, geniuses. The medium used in Scream is oil, giving it a heavier "weightier" feel. The sharp contrasting colors (inverted from a natural setting) have fast reckless strokes that contribute to the sense of anxiety and anticipation. Other than the crimson sky, all of the objects in the painting converge on the central figure; including the "water", boardwalk or path, and direction of motion of the other 2 personages. Instead of being positioned at center or observing the rules of thirds, the screamer is off center, creating a strain and uneasiness compounding his fear. "His" fear may not be entirely accurate. The creature depicted seems to be void of sex and other characteristics that would categorize it as "human", thus isolating the figure from the rest of humanity, alone even when others are present. It's not up to us to determine whether the two black figures in the back have hostile intent toward the subject, but rather that they have a role to play and in the mind of the screamer they may possibly be a primary or secondary source of his/her distress.
The connection that I wanted to make from the photo to the painting (other than an attempt at humor in their similarities) is the theme of self perception and isolation. Although cats by themselves have limited inherent value, similar to that of a manatee, the white cat is all the more interesting not so much because of his reptilian antics but because he has broken free of the pride of kittens to go off and do his own thing. Whether he is screaming or roaring, he's playing to his own drum, he's accepted himself for what he is, a crazy raptor mimicking kitten, a lesson our Norwegian alien screamer man could learn from our feline friend. Maybe then he would pipe down, take a xanax, and go watch sportscenter like the rest of us instead of trying to understand the universe, but then again Europeans are always so presumptuous in their intellectual capacities. Live and let live, I guess.

Rhetorical Analysis: The Name's Bond, Lame Bond.

2008-01-27T15:18:00.000-07:00

Don't get me wrong, Bond's a stud. Misogynistic cold hearted killer though he may be. But the shameless use of Ian Fleming's most lucrative character in Omega's advertising is a betrayal to his legacy. Considering that this particular advertisement is almost completely void of text an analysis of the imagery and product design will give insight to the assumptions made and selling point of the advertisers.
The Product being advertised: Explicitly - Men's Luxury Watches. Implicitly - Men's and Women's luxury watches.
The Audience: Men with disposable income or a need to appear as one with disposable income.
The adjacent advertisement shows two of the three special addition Omega Seamaster Casino Royale watches ranging from $2000 - $5000 + tax. The macro camera shot and angle present emphasis on the amount of detail and workmanship involved each timepiece's construction (which includes 10,007 parts). The trademark 007 symbol on the second hand and face are given particular distinction and the avid bondaholic will (evidently) appreciate the rifled gun bore of the blue faced watch used in the introduction of every single bond film. Omega's strategy has been for several years to use celebrity image coupled with their product in absence of textual advertisement in order to create this identity of class and presumption that their product (and those who wear them) speak for themselves and need no explanation as to their quality and desirability. In this particular incident of creating a Bond like image it's completely appropriate considering the calm and cool demeanor of Agent 007. Also, text would be counterproductive considering the type of publication that this ad would be placed, most likely The Robb Report where well over 50-60% of the pages are single ads for luxury accessories and pleasures. Considering this fact and the average reader of such publications it is my belief that Omega isn't really trying to sell this particular watch, otherwise why would it be a limited edition? Unless you're either 12 years old or a complete tool, you're not going to wear a watch with 007 written across the bottom of it. A cross examination of the demographic Omega is trying to reach would most likely reveal that there are not many pre-adolescent male readers or tasteless men (ok, maybe half of them are) who would have the income to shell out 5k on a wristwatch. Instead they are selling a brand, an image. By getting their foot in the door (or your brain), they've created a binding relationship between one of the all time best selling franchises in American cinema and themselves. When you see bond you'll think Omega. How you sell a $5000 watch with logos or ethos I have no idea, maybe if a portion of the proceeds went to children in Africa or something but that's a stretch in and of itself. No this is pure unadulterated pathos, a pathetic appeal to man's need to see himself as a bad-A, licensed-to-kill, promiscuous assassin drinking shaken vodka martinis and driving the lasted Aston Martin. The saddest thing of all is I think that they were financially successful in what they set out to accomplish. Viva Ego.

Wet Socks

2008-01-22T19:21:00.000-07:00

It's Tuesday night now and that which was intended to be completed yesterday has unsurprisingly crept and slept its way right up until the current time, 19:23 as the little clock in the corner tells me. Although my yet-to-be-written autobiography titled "Procrastina-" hasn't quite come to fruition yet, if and when it would hypothetically be written there would be a chapter within titled "Wet Sock Days".
Wet Sock Days recently came to me in the inspirational form of a wet sock; God works in mysterious ways sometimes. See, yesterday was Martin Luther King day or human rights day or something, all I know is I didn't have to go to school, go to work, or for that matter go out of bed; any holiday that has minimal public interaction and responsibility is a Grade A Holiday in my book. In their most cynical interpretations ( a mood I find all the more comforting on a dark January night with cold feet) some holidays are just too cumbersome with tradition, ritual, and social propaganda (charging material items to an 18 month interest-free credit card comes to mind). But that's a tangent for another time. No today is about Wet Sock Day or "Dirty Monday" if you will. WS Days are any day after a 3 day, 4 day, or prolonged weekend/vacation not to exceed a total of 14 days (after that long you're just plain lazy) when one is expected to get right back on that ninny of a horse called "reality" and you just can't seem to get with the program. It's the world's little way of giving you a sucker punch or a well placed Dead Leg right after a relaxing massage. You've gotten this free pass day to do essentially whatever you choose (they tell me this luxury becomes a rare delicacy indeed after marriage but for now, they're mine and I'll savor them) and then, BAM, you wake up the next day and you put on a pair of fresh warm socks and minutes before you leave you step in the melted snow that has come off of your sneakers in the kitchen and now it's too late to get a new pair AND catch the last bus that will get you to class on time. Wetsockday. It doesn't happen to be that literal every time but it's a metaphor that catches my point in all its drudging glory. You may even find a voice of alleged rational inside saying, "Well maybe it would be better if we didn't have these Holidays in the first place, hmmm?" But then you quickly silence that self righteous condescending little snot by mocking him in the quintessential 4th graded fashion and move on to your next topic of thought. Recently, monster.com ran an ad in which hundreds of suburbanites awake in the pre dawn darkness and rally together armed with their pillows and their coffee tables in order to fight back the approaching abomination of Monday morning; to no avail as you might have assumed.
Mondays I can handle; Monday was that little clause that most of us skipped over in the premortal realm.

"Hmm, a body and an opportunity to exercise free will with a reward behind doors #1 through 3? Or being cast down into outer darkness forced to watch as a spectator as everyone else gets a shot at eternal glory..."

"Yeah I'll take option #1 thank you very much and have a nice day. Oh, and you say I'll have an average of 4000-5000 Mondays while I'm down there? Well how bad can they be, amirite?"

Having personally just recently overcome Monday #1307 I can say that they (Mondays) are getting easier with the passage of time. Either that or the twinkle of youthful hope has most certainly dimmed entirely from my soul's window & considering my 20/400 vision that might be a more logical explanation.

At any rate, most critics (and dads worldwide) would respond to such a complaint with the ever popular, seldom thanked message of, "Well, you gotta grow up sometime!" although it's almost always used in an imperative form with a healthy dash of disgust added for good measure, at least that's how I've heard it.

That's basically it. Wetsockdays suck.

Oh, and when I tried to buy chocolate milk at the vending machine this afternoon to drown my sorrows, it wouldn't take ID cards, that's like double dutch Wetsockday.

Fin.

The .40 Calibre: An American Cartridge (Free Write)

2008-01-20T11:54:00.000-07:00

Scene: SHOT Show, Las Vegas Nevada, 1989
Smith and Wesson introduce an improved 10mm cartridge in response to the demands of law enforcement agencies for a more powerful and user friendly personal sidearm, the .40 cal. The .40 cal or .40 is the great compromise between the existing 2 most common used NATO rounds for handguns, the 9mm and the .45 ACP. Both time tested and widely available, the 9mm and .45 have their drawbacks that limit the use and success rate of the firearm and its operator.
When lethal force is concerned and/or necessary a number of variables must be accounted for.
External variables include target, location, environment and distance. Meanwhile, internal variables are accuracy, rate of fire, clip capacity, and reliability. Issued nearly 100 years ago, the Colt 1911 was the issued military sidearm for over 70 years. Using the .45 ACP the heavier 230 grain (15 grams) bullet had impeccable stopping power due to its large surface area and more importantly its low velocity, less than 900 fps, as seen in the adjacent ballistics gel test. It was extremely simple to operate and need little repair because of the low force generated by firing the weapon (21,000 psi). However, a fully loaded 1911 had a capacity of 7 rounds + 1 chambered, although current service models are capable of 13+1 capacity the gun itself is respectively larger and does not fit to every hand.
Issued in 1985 and still used by armed forces today, the 9mm is a lighter, higher capacity round that travels significantly faster than the .45 (1,200 FPS). Because of this and the smaller surface area the 9mm has been criticized as a "hole puncher". The issue is that when a 9mm round enters an armed assailant it passes right through him/her with minimal expansion, allowing the shot individual to continue being a threat for some time. For law enforcement this has an additional problem with non combatants are in the surrounding environment. A shot placed throught the shoulder or other soft tissue area of a perpetrator could easily strike a civilian or hostage, entirely missed shots can penetrate walls. As seen in the infamous (yet gratuitously overacted) scene of the death of Sonny Corleone, this smaller round requires several direct hits in order to bring someone down.

Enter the .40 calibre. With a wide range of available grains, the .40 can be a slow, hard hitting round or faster for penetration of vehicles and improvised cover with only a 20% loss of clip capacity in comparison with the 9mm. Now in it's 19th year of production, the .40 S&W has become the standard issued cartridge of the US Coast Guard, the first US branch of law enforcement to do so. Whether the Army and Marines will follow suit in the coming decades will largely determine on the round's acceptance as a standardized NATO round and whether a cost/benefit analysis can be satisfied for the upgrade from the 9mm for regular infantry. For the average citizen who does not have the time or capital to shoot tens of thousands of rounds and still wants a weapon for personal safety that does not have issues of over penetration the .40 is the right chose to make...unless you'd now like to talk about shotguns.

Enthymemes and You

2008-01-17T18:57:00.000-07:00

#1 A Current Battle

WATCO raising the thermostat on our apartment harmony?
Audience: Roommates of Apartment #114
Raising the Thermostat will disrupt our apartment harmony.
Because expensive gas bills upset poor roommates.

#2 An American Injustice

WATCO allowing students to grow beards on the learning atmosphere of BYU?
Audience: Administration of BYU
Allowing Students to grow beards improves the learning atmosphere of BYU.
Because allowing Grayson to maintain a well trimmed beard reduces his stress increasing his capacity to study and learn.

#2a Preferred Format but possibly illegal

WATCO allowing students to grow beards on the learning atmosphere of BYU?
Audience: Administration of BYU
Allowing Students to grow beards has minimal effect on the learning atmosphere of BYU.
Because allowing students to maintain well trimmed beards will no longer be taboo and thus insignificant to other students.

#3 The Neverending Story (minus Falcor)

WATCO taking a full 18 credit hours on a student’s overall well being?
Audience: Parents
Taking a full 18 credit hours will significantly harm a student’s overall well being.
Because allocating the recommended 54 total hours for academics will place excessive mental strain on Grayson’s brain.

#4 Once upon a time

WATCO eating only fast food on a student’s GPA?
Audience: Lazy students and/or freshmen
Eating only fast food will lower a student’s GPA.
Because having a diet high in calories & fat and low in vitamins and minerals will inhibit a student’s metabolism & motivation.

Rhetoric + Beer + Dogs = Party Time

2008-01-15T17:39:00.000-07:00

Spuds MacKenzie. Need I say more? Ok then, here goes.
America's favorite narcotic, alcohol, is a multi billion dollar industry with an advertising budget to match. At the forefront of alcoholic advertising is Anheuser Busch, which outsells all other domestic brands combined. Introduced in a commercial during the 1987 Superbowl, Spuds, the "Original Party Animal", is seen here wearing a frat shirt, party hat and is on the verge of enjoying a cool refreshing goblet of foaming Bud Light. However, this ad is not just selling the concept of purchasing and drinking a product, but rather of how the product can create excitement, happiness, and social acceptance. The last assumption may be a bit of a stretch but stick with me here. First of all, who is the audience for this pooch? The list could include college students (men), former students nostalgic about their younger days (slightly older men), people susceptible to being deceived into making an irrational purchase primarily based on how cute a doggy in a t-shirt looks (women), alcoholics who inherently suffer fr0m depression, lastly and most controversially, children. Considering that Spuds MacKenzie memorabilia can still be found in abundance on the internet nearly 15 years after his death (technically "her" death, but that's another blog for another day) gives an indication about the success of this particular campaign which lasted less than 6 years. All of the above listed demographics have subcultures that frequently or occasionally consume alcohol in social (or not-so-social) environments. If you say "not children" feel free to get a plane ticket to any number of eastern European countries. By creating an icon, brand recognition and appreciation will increase consumer loyalty in these groups. Elements used in this ad include brand recognition, humor, and to some degree, shock value. Although fine print exists on the ad, the image is the major selling point, and that point is that bud light is a staple to having a good time. Using a dog instead of the stereotypical bikini model will leave a much more lasting impression on the viewer, the tell-tale black eye on Spuds only strengthens that goal. After several years of bad publicity (although there's really no such thing) Spuds was retired and Anheuser Busch abandoned the use of animals having a direct correlation to the consumption of alcohol in their advertising, at least until a certain trio of bullfrogs came into the picture....

Back to School, Back to Cool

2008-01-09T09:43:00.001-07:00

Ah, everyone loves a good oxymoron.

And that's where we are kiddos, smack dab in 'happy-valley' Utah.

You'll see a significant increase in the number of posts in the coming weeks, granted that I get into the class that i am jockeying for today. See, it's part of the curriculum to post thrice a week about both specific and random things in a structured format.

We'll keep you posted until more conclusive results can be verified.

Danke and enjoy the Miami winter.
In the meanwhile enjoy an exhilarating round of FROGGER!!!

- G

Millenium + Eight

2007-12-28T15:25:00.000-07:00

OK Campers start feeding the piggy bank and the tithe to the gods of home entertainment because this is going to be a year for some extreme cinema, and if not 2008 than '09 for sure. Take a look...

January
Rambo - Face it. Rambo has become a guilty pleasure of our needs for SOCOM fantasies... at least for guys. "Oh PAM, it's a guy thing, PAM!!"
Cloverfield - J.J. Abrams "monster attack on New York. I call it Post 9/11 Godzilla. Expect mounting suspense and action leading you further and further out of your seat in spite of recycled screenplays

March
10,000 BC - a must-see trailer is out there now for this epic (amazing CGI work) and from how it feels it will succeed where Apocalypto fell short. http://www.10000bctrailer.com/

May
Iron Man - Buyer Beware! The super hero genre is quickly becoming (who are we kidding, always has been) Hollywood's bread and butter, slapping together a sloppy script and bathing us in visual effects hoping we'll accept their laziness...and we shamefully do.
Chronicles of Narnia - The first one was unfortunately criticized and compared with Peter Jacksons LOTR trilogy. From the trailer and story this sequel promises to satisfy a much older audience, similar to the progression of the Harry Potter Franchise (more on this later)
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull - Ok, maybe Shia Labeouf is as Indy as a nazi pig, but we've been waiting for this movie for over 10 years. I dare you not to see it opening weekend!

June
The Dark Knight - Need I say more?
The Incredible Hulk - Scoff NOT!!! The old Incredible Hulk was a fiasco at best, but I foresee an almost "Batman Begins" similar resetting of the franchise with main actor Edward Norton.
Wall-E - This has got to be one of my most anticipated movies coming out. Wall-e combines the nostalgic characteristics and appearance of Johnny 5 but minaturized to the size of "Batteries Not Included" If you don't remember that one I highly recommend it. "GO PIXAR!"

Wanted - I'm a gun junkie. Period. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O7ftozVc3lI
Mongol - This is going to be one of those hand toss foreign films that are either really awesome or not so really awesome.

July
Hancock - WILL SMITH is a superhero (of sorts) battling alcoholism, narcissism, and a whole sleuth of other problems. An interestingly (and curiously) genuine idea.

August
The Mummy 3 - Oh my, if there's anything we've learned from the never ending sequel attempts of production studios First step is A) come up with a great story, great visuals, great movie, then B) sign on for an overthetop sequel fo bigger stunts bigger jokes bigger budget crappier movie and finally C) redeem yourself with a super serious trailer and epic music to prove to audiences that this sequel will be closer to the "original" and has been recalibrated for what audiences "really" want. Sometimes they lie, sometimes they're telling the truth.

September
The Punisher : War Zone - I loved the first one and i'm glad to see that they've waited a few years for this one

October
Where the Wild Things Are - Our favorite childhood story comes to the big screen (can you tell i'm writing faster? My dinner's here :)

November
Bond 22 - I drool in anticipation, Casino Royale..... changed my life...kind of, but not in that lame-@ss way described by nerds who dive into their subconscious fantasies for relief from their spoiled and wasted lives...no this was way way different than that.

December
Star Trek -JJ Abrams current project after Cloverfield (can he finish in time by Christmas?) ask Spock.

Atlas Shrugged - Interesting blip on my radar, havent read the book but always wanted to

G.I. JOE - RAY PARK (toad, darth maul) is the legendary SNAKE EYES!!! 2009
Wolverine - This is going to be a risky one. 2009
Avatar - I'm stoked for this and I don't even know why 2009
Transformers 2 - See Wolverine 2009

O'Doyle Rules!

2007-11-08T18:40:00.000-07:00

Yes. No. What? Haven't gotten there yet. What's it to ya? Airplane was a funny movie. Snorkafork Billy-bally bang bang! Ok, that was my creative "typing without thinking" exercise that I like to do when I'm writing and get the ol' blockaroo in the brain. So.....how are you? Neato. Basically I define my week in Photoshop posters. Wanna see one? Too late, you alreadylooked! It's not your fault, the eyes just lock on to things that break structure; stick out. Not to mention that they're works of art. Art that someone else conceived and I followed the tutorial like a finger paint stencil, but art NONE THE LESS!!! We have a big time (big for us) auction this weekend, the items include Pancho Villa's pistol, rifle, and a gun of his body guard. We'd like to see it sell for $60,000 - $100,000; but don't count your russians before they revolt - mamma usta always say. As you can see, November was is will be a hoot and a scoop. But enough about that. I think Bishop is on vacation or dead, because I can't get him on the horn (this would be provo bishop, not santa clause bishop{ i always feel like whispering and checking over my shoulder when something is inside one of these parenthesis [ like I'm part of a secret Knights Templar Society] you know?} so don't get them confused)

Fans, Excrement, & Velocity

2007-11-05T09:35:00.001-07:00

So I may be screwed with a capital F considering BYU. I was allegedly supposed to defer a semester (FALL) and I have to be enrolled for Winter and be taking online courses by Dec 15th or Payment on certain loans will begin to come to fruition. But it's too late to enroll as a "former" student and the deferment application deadline was last week. But suuuuuuurely the Ahole Bureaucrats of the ever fair Happy Valley BYU Admissions office will kindly make an exception for yours truly. No Time, lots of worrying to do, Ta-Ta!

God's Most Perfect Fruit: The Grape

2007-10-09T12:24:00.000-06:00

The single most significant and influential characteristic of a grape is its crunch, its texture. Sour or sweet, a grape can be destroyed by the squish of unripeness. Even then, when a bad grape finds its way to your taste buds, is all lost?
No. You simply pick up his neighbor and quickly but firmly test its elasticity. Hopefully, it's resilient & unyielding, thus rendering an experience to counteract and trump the unfortunate prior grape engagement.

No other fruit offers such flexibility and promise; buy a peach or plum based on the time tested inspections of feel, color, and smell and you may still be deceived and hopeless, now holding your pitted snack in shameful defeat.

The in-season seedless and thus sterile red grape vine should be washed promptly and placed in a metal colander and then refrigerated to allow for proper drainage and chill, respectively. The grape, though content on its own, is valuable, complementary, and delectable with a number of various dishes; imagination is the only required ingredient.

So eat on, young connoisseurs of the vine! Embrace the untainted and loyal fruit of the ages, and live. Amen.

. . . . and in the eyes of the hungry there is a growing wrath. In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage.

Turning Tables

2007-10-04T13:22:00.000-06:00

Ahh, now the anxiety of the blogger is bestowed on the bloggee...or something like that.

Every day? Wow that'll be ruff with a capital GH, but we'll see what we can do. The sweet ride that you see to the right (and by right, I obviously mean straight up) is a 1970 SS Chevrolet Chevelle. After an air-conditioning unit is installed it will retail for $50,000! Our building is full of all sorts of b*tchin' wheels (if you got a better adjective that is as appropriate, I'm all ears) but this one is, by far, my favorite (in case you want to tell Santa). Our business neighbors "Street Dreams" own them and are using our facility as a transition location while they move into their bigger building next door.

They'll also be the first car "club" collection featured in our monthly "Rockin' Rod Weekends" where we bring in rock & roll bands, car clubs, vendors and have a little program for them and get the public coming out too. And behind it all I'm the one who gets to have fun with Photoshop :) So the real question is, "What am I supposed to be doing today instead of writing about what I'm supposed to be doing on my blog?" Well I'll shamelessly tell it's....hang on I need my list, lol. Oh yeah, get all of those posters --------> printed up with hand outs for the car club meeting next Thursday in San Anton', Set up the PA system out in the Biergarten for open mic night (noone will show up, most likely), get back with Michael Martin Murphy's Booking Agent and renegotiate the contract, email photo's of antique spurs and memorabilia to our Frontier Times Auction promoter, Amy; Remind KFAN to update our acoustic revolution lineup on the radio, create a presentation package for potential sponsors, and maybe cut this mange of a head that I got going on now. Neat-O?

Ok, I actually need to go do these things. See Ya and I approve of the Mummy, so no make-up or nothing on babies? even around the lips or something? Bummer.

Wowzer

2007-10-03T12:08:00.001-06:00

I've refrained from the blog scene hitherto primarily because,
a) nothing all that significant happens to me
b) who's there really to tell about it when and if, &
c) I place great value on a high level of anonymity

In spite of these noble reasons, there's only so much I can convey in comments on Susan's blog & also there's only the two of you and the dinner tables that you socialize with, and that's ok should my adventures travel with you twain.
So, yeah.

pranksters at harvard deface school monument
I say they awesomefaced it.

10/3

It was a vivid night for lucid dreaming; complete with a stroll down middle age Paris (yuck), flying over valleys and methinks the Shire and finally nightmares of work with too many customers and a slow moving line. My dad had hair though, thin on top and crazy on the sides like Albert Einstein, I gave him my comb to mat it down, but it wouldn't budge. Mom&Pop are driving to Virginia Beach (that's in Virginia, Susan; V-I-R-G-I-N-I-A) to pick up some stuff for an auction in November. And you know what that means! Party at the Adams' pad! It's a BYOBabies party so you & the Freemans shouldn't have any trouble getting in, just don't forget the DESITIN, that's DESITIN :). There's a wicked cool Outdoors Expo going on in Austin this weekend so I might go over there and check that out, it's a 40,000 attendee show annually, complete with ducks and kayaks, fun stuff.

And now it's time to play "WHAT SHOULD GRAYSON PICK?!?"

(notice how the exclamation point is surrounded and outnumbered by question marks indicative of how he (the exclamation point) would like to be excited as he normally is but is suffocating in his claustrophobic and hostile environment of doubt, indecision, and fear) (yeah that's some deep punctuation analysis)

I'll sign up for Winter semester classes but that don't mean I'll be going for sure, time will tell.

Oh man, you're missing some funny stuff on Sundays down in K-ville (no, not the new Fox Cop Drama)
Between Brother Metaphor-4-everything & Elder Obvious, Priesthood meeting is a hour of knee-slapping good time, however since knee-slapping on the sabbath is inappropriate we have to knee-slap in our hearts.

(grabbing a snickers)

Mmm, good stuff. Speaking of transfats wrapped in mini-size wrappers, have you given any though to what Savy will be for her first Halloween!! Now we all know kids make cute pumpkins, mice and other adorable, feeble, and generally harmless vegetables and animals. But what about doing something genuinely coooool , like a vampirette or werewolf or a MUMMY??? Hear me out, you still make it fun looking but with some simple face paints and sewing you could have one original and memorable baby Halloween! I think it's a great idea.