Entries Tagged 'updates' ↓

I was searching for a rape-prevention program called “men’s strengths” or “men of strength” or something similar, for citations in a chapter I was writing yesterday. I asked Google. Google was not helpful (as you can see below), and was actually just a teensy bit insulting. ^~^

men_s strengths

Alex and I have been keeping up our frantic Haiku-writing regimen, but we keep forgetting to post them to facebook (or here). Well, I present episodes 11 through 19.

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

Alex and I have waited ’til now to watch LOST. We’ve watched several episodes, and her crackpot idea was to write a haiku about each one. Her crackpot ideas tend to be awesome.

Anyway, here are the first seven, plus a limerick I wrote out of the normal sequence, and an extra haiku she wrote. I’ll post the rest as we go.

I have to get around to responding to my right-wing-libertarian brother’s ideas from Christmas, but that requires more time than I’ve had for blogging since New Year’s. Right now I’m just going to rant a bit about travel, because that requires very few brain cells.

Halifax is gorgeous. I must admit it. As anyone may imagine, I am not (so very not) happy about the idea of leaving my current job, which I love a ton, but I suppose if the stars somehow align and that makes any kind of sense, then Halifax would not be such a bad place to relocate to. Alex’s interview day seemed to go well (though how can you ever tell?), so it’s possible that I might have to consider this prospect.

Travel sucks sometimes. Like when you completely forget what day it is and somehow come to believe that it’s Saturday when in fact it’s Sunday and your stupid delayed flight and forced overnight stay will cut into your work week. It could be worse, I guess, but I didn’t get to teach my seminary class this morning (this is sad; I look forward to seminary about 80% of the time), and I’m missing some meetings. I’ll have to show up out of the blue and teach my stats class, which will confuse the students (and maybe the TA).  But, like I said, it could be much worse.

While traveling, the following excellent or semi-excellent things happened:

• I had delicious gelatto (sp?)
• I got to watch “It might get loud” on an Air Canada flight
• I stayed in a swanky hotel
• Alex and I wandered around Halifax downtown and waterfront
• We saw a good live band and a good hockey game (Canucks won!) at a pub

Probably some other stuff, too. Negatives include getting delayed in New Jersey (ick), then missing my connection in Houston and having to stay the night. I ended up in the Ramada (“One Mile from the Airport!”), which really really feels like last week it was a skanky, seedy Motel 6 that rented rooms by the hour, and this week it’s being remodeled into something respectable, but they won’t be finished with the renovations for six more months. Oh well. The sheets were clean and my six hours of sleep were peaceful.

Time to go catch my flight home.

I like this airport for the following reasons:

1. The alcove of secret free WiFi. Which is barely functional at the moment, so maybe they figured out how to block it?

2. The paper airplanes in the tunnels :D

3. Banjoe’s Cafe. It’s not on everyone’s beaten path, but if you find it, it’s worth the walk. I’m currently enjoying their Thai chicken sandwich. Yum! And I think they gave me a whole by accident instead of a half. I should probably walk back over there and return it, but… I think not. They’d probably have to throw it away anyway. Or some such rationalization.

Lou Dobbs has just quit CNN. I know some Hispanic activism groups will be happy about this, since the move reduces CNN’s perceived hypocrisy in regards to Hispanic and immigration issues, but I’m not as enthusiastic. Don’t get me wrong: I think Dobbs is yet another demagogue entertainer masquerading as a journalist, like Bill O’Reilly or Keith Olbermann (I was going to add Beck and Limbaugh, but I’m not sure they even really masquerade that much; they’re just entertainers, even if many of their fans seem so desperate to validate their own political views that they insist on seeing them as newsmen despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary). However, the news networks, like the political landscape of the country, seem to be getting more and more Balkanized, with less and less true dialogue between individuals who have opposing opinions. Or maybe it’s always been this way, but it’s certainly not getting any better.

Dobbs’ exit, on the one hand, makes CNN just a teensy bit more honest and accurate (by removal of the opposites). On the other hand, diversity of opinion on the network will suffer. I said I’m not enthusiastic, but I also don’t really mind him leaving; I just don’t think it’s as big a deal as some people do.

My guess is that, within a year, we will see Dobbs join O’Reilly, Beck, and others on the Fox Kind Of Like News network. What was a somewhat refreshing conservative point of view on CNN will be lost in the roar of conservative righteous indignation constantly pouring from Fox, which will be a shame. On the other hand, Dobbs will also continue spouting his particular mix of lies, half-truths, and misleading statements about immigration and Latinos, and that will get lost in the roar, as well. I hope.

I believe it is no exaggeration to say that I now number among the giants of technology like Alexander Graham Bell and Whoever Invented That Huge Computer That Filled A Whole Stinking House Or Something. Yes, I have conquered pit stains.

I know it’s a gross topic, but it must be discussed. I have researched this issue, and I think my sweat has no more than average pit-staining properties. However, I sweat more than the average Joe, no matter what the temperature, and I live in a place where it’s at least kinda warmish or hottish for about seven months of the year and ridiculously unrealistically hot (with medium to stupid high humidity) for an additional three. So I get more than my fair share of sweaty armpit nastiness in my shirts, after a while. I know I’m not the only one who has this problem. I’ve seen others’ old T-shirts with the crusty, hardened, darkened fabric that has the Smell That Just Won’t Totally Go Away. I won’t name names, but that’s just because I may not be able to remember them. I’m old.

I have previously tried lots of things to kill the pit stains, recommended by well-meaning but ultimately useless posts on the web, articles in magazines, etc.:  vinegar solutions, detergent pre-soak, baking soda, alcohol, commercial products (Spray ‘n’ Wash, etc.), and even adding aspirin to water or vinegar solution. But now I tried something that works.

This most recent pitstain destruction experiment was was influenced by (a) blog posts from some smart people describing cleaning cloth diapers, (b) some nerds restoring yellowing plastic museum computer consoles to their original factory white, and (c) the observation that adding oxy-clean to vinegar makes for some fun laundry-time drama.

Without further ado, here’s the research report. The test subject was a shirt. Button-down camp-type short-sleeved shirt. Light, airy, entirely comfortable thin cotton fabric. I love that shirt. It had become infested with crusty, darker yellow stains in the pits, especially in those underarm seams. You know the ones. After 4 years of frequent wear, the stains were no longer just a color or smell; they were a tangible physical anomaly in the fabric, about as stiff as if I had massaged a thin layer of Elmer’s glue into the fabric and let it dry. Seriously. Kind of disgusting. The stain-crusties had proved resistant to washing, scrubbing, and all the attempted interventions I listed above. So I did the following:

1. Saturated the fabric (dunked it) in 100% white vinegar. Did not wring it out; wanted lots of vinegar. None of that wussy “solution” business you read about on home-helper-type websites. This was all vinegar.
2. Sprinkled (liberally) my local, cheap, generic version of Oxy-Clean on the affected areas of the fabric. It foamed, it got hot (as in “it-kinda-scared-me” hot), it made an enjoyable sizzling sound. It did not all dissolve at this point.
3. I scrubbed the oxy into the vinegar-saturated fabric like I was hand-washing nasty diapers. Next time I might use a scrub brush or nail brush with the fabric on a hard backing surface, to make sure it all gets down in the crevices. I applied the oxy to the inside of the shirt, where the sweat would presumably have first contact with the fabric. The gritty texture of the undissolved oxy was satisfying to grind into the recalcitrant, hardened armpit stains. Die! Die! Die! And like that. Actually, I didn’t scrub it for long. Maybe a minute or two.
4. Added a whole lotta (maybe 50% in the final solution?) Simple Green degreaser to the vinegar and swished around. Threw the shirt in there.
5. Put the shirt in the solution, made sure it was pretty well saturated and nearly covered with liquid, and let it soak for about a day. After a couple of hours I noticed the fabric had soaked up lots of the liquid, so I diluted it about 50/50 with water.
6. The next day, I wrung out the shirt and threw it in the washer with some other clothes.

When it came out of the wash, the pits were pristine in both color and texture, almost like brand new fabric. They were also fresh-smelling. Hooray!

I consider this merely a first experiment. There are several variables that need to be investigated. Parameters must be established. But it worked!

DISCLAIMERS: My hands seem unaffected, but still you might consider wearing dishwashing gloves. The fabric was 100% cotton, with a nice light-colored plaid print. I did not see signs of fading, bleaching, or discoloring, but I only tried this on one shirt, one time. YMMV. I do not know how this method would affect synthetics or any other fabric. I don’t know if the Simple Green was really necessary; I suspect not. I don’t know how strong the solution has to be, or how long it needs to sit. I don’t know if these fumes will kill you or cause your unborn baby to be born a horrible mutant freak unqualified for all but talk show hosting careers. So, obviously use this at your own risk. But it seemed to work, and since I did it I haven’t noticed any slurring of speech or mental confusiowhat are the spiders doing on my walls they are smiling at me wearing Charlie Chaplin masks and doing that weird dance with the potatoes on the forks and holy cow I’m translucent now gotta go

Rukhsana Kauser is my new hero(ine). When the leader of a roaming band of terrorists and some of his thugs barged into her home and started beating her parents, she grabbed a hatchet, surprised the main guy, killed him with his own AK-47,  wounded another thug (with the help of her older brother), and sent the rest fleeing. She killed one of the most wanted men in Kashmir, a leader of one of the most dangerous terrorist organizations in the world.

I’ve found this story on the BBC and other international news sites. Since no Americans were killed or heroized, I can’t seem to find it in any American news feeds. However, it is on certain American blogs: gun rights blogs. After the story is summarized or linked, there are comments like “Hell yeah!” or “Tell THAT to the gun control wonks!”

To overused a phrase of the day… wait, what?

How does Ms. Kauser’s story support the cause of personal gun ownership rights in the U.S.? Ms. Kauser did not stop the terrorists with her concealed-carry Smith & Wesson. She did not stop them with her father’s venerated Remington twelve-gauge. The only gun owners were terrorist criminals. The only guns in this story were probably used in numerous horrific crimes before one or two of them were turned on their original owners. I’m a supporter of a “personal ownership” interpretation of the Second Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, but apparently this has not scrambled my grasp of logic to the point where this would make any sense to me.

I suppose maybe the American gun people are arguing that she should have owned a gun, and I could see that point, but then the story ceases being a very good demonstration of either the benefits of gun ownership or the dangers of a lack of such. She defeated the militants without owning a gun, which is not how these pro-gun stories usually turn out. Still, this is perhaps the only argument I could see as supporting U.S. gun ownership. I mean, if we had roaming gangs of terrorists with AK-47s who regularly took over suburban homes by force.

I have a nagging feeling that’s not the real reason this story keeps appearing on gun ownership blogs, though. I wonder if it isn’t just because there’s a potential victim, and then there is gun-related violence done to a Bad Person. Maybe the bloggers and commenters don’t look any farther than that. If this is the case, it says some small little volumes about the mentality of some of our gun-ownership advocates.

Rukhsana Kauser is not a good choice as poster girl for gun ownership advocates. Feminists, on the other hand…

Kate Harding’s piece in Salon.com pulls no punches, and is not something a minor should read, but she is absolutely right on. I couldn’t agree more. From her conclusion:

Roman Polanski may be a great director, an old man, a husband, a father, a friend to many powerful people, and even the target of some questionable legal shenanigans. He may very well be no threat to society at this point. He may even be a good person on balance, whatever that means. But none of that changes the basic, undisputed fact: Roman Polanski raped a child. And rushing past that point to focus on the reasons why we should forgive him, pity him, respect him, admire him, support him, whatever, is absolutely twisted.

…blurting out inappropriate things in front of the neighbors.

(awesome)

The pic is the lovely pyromaniac I have left behind. :’(

Travel was uneventful, which is usually best. After a 3-month absence, my apartment is still here and unflooded (no hurricanes or even rain here, apparently), the phone and internet work, nothing smells weird, and I am really hoping there are no dead animals in either of my kayaks, this year. I made all my flights, they were all on time, and I wasn’t in any middle seats.

My car still works. I reconnected the battery, put the license plates back on, and drove it a little, feeling the whumpy whumpy of the flat spots on the tires. I got $90 worth of groceries, which feels like nothing; it always does when you start from nearly zero.

My job is still here, and all the people I love, whom I work with. Now I have a new next-office neighbor, Edna, who is an awesome developmental researcher, a set of skills I wish to exploit. Heh heh. I have put my Algonquin 8x10s on my office wall. They may not be the most artfully-placed things ever (wall space = limited), but they remind me, and make others jealous. Their purpose is fulfilled. I renewed my campus gym membership and parking tag (total price for the year: about $300; kind of a bargain, in the case of the parking permit). I got my accumulated mail (nothing from U.S. Immigration). I have migrated my Outlook settings from the summer back into my desktop machine, and am working on synchronizing the files, now. I watched the Fall Convocation on le internets, and then sneaked into the after-convocation brunch to chat with people I haven’t seen all summer. Nice :)

Ah, to be back home. Perfect? No. But it’s home, and there’s something to be said for not worrying every day whether it’s still there ;)

Just got back from 4 days in Algonquin Provincial Park. We stayed on North Tea and Manitou lakes, in really very lovely campsites. 1 day was kind of miserably cold for a few hours, but otherwise it was awesome. Alex, her brother Geof, his wife Veronica, our friend Brad, and I all went. 2 canoes and 1 kayak (I got the latter; insert squeal of excitement). It was way rad. :) I don’t have most of the pics, since my camera had some bad batteries… and bad backup batteries. But I have a few, and here are three:

It’s in Terminal C, right outside gates 16 and 17, near an old, kind of dead pay-per-use internet service station thingy. No, I’m serious: it’s cool. Please remember me in your President/Oscar/Webby acceptance speech.

The secret alcove of WiFi

I haven’t seen my wif in holy cow a really long time (about 2 months? I’ll have to check), and now it’s time for the summer of togetherness that we tend to have every summer around this time. It’s like a tradition, at this point.

I’m currently leeching WiFi from Presidents Club in the Secret Alcove of Free WiFi, in Concourse C. I’ll make a map of it sometime, because it would be greedy to keep it to myself. It’s way awesome for three reasons: (1) free WiFi in an airport that charges for regular wireless (2) there’s an outlet right here for plugging in (3) it’s sneaky because it doesn’t look like you’re anywhere near a Presidents Club (I think the signal is coming through their back wall or somesuch).

Travel: Better than average. I shall count the ways:

1. I did not have to leave stupid early this time. 2 days after Memorial Day, apparently even the 10:40 a.m. flights are cheap.
2. Both of my monstrously heavy bags (bag A: clothes and whatnot; bag B: camping equipment) came in at just a pound or so under $50, so I only had the one bag charge. I can’t  believe I’m excited about this. How quickly we get used to oppression…
3. MFE-IAH flight –> Exit Row! At check-in, I used the kiosk to look at my seat assignments and was surprised to find previously-unavailable exit row seats! The ticket agent told me that they don’t let people have exit row seats until they’re physically present. I’ll be checking from now on.
4. In Houston, I had a sandwich. Did I pay $8 for it? Yes. Was it one of the best turkey-on-wheat sandwiches ever? Also yes. Tender, non-processed turkey, swiss cheese melted over it, delicious sliced high-quality yummy bread… I want another one.
5. Hidden Alcove of Secret Free Internet!
6. For the flight from here to BUF: Exit Row!

I realize things can turn ugly at a moment’s notice with any kind of travel; your hopes and expectations are focused and singular, and they are the reason for all aspects of your situation, at all points in time during the trip; maybe that’s why they’re so fragile. However, if things get crappy, I’ll try to remember the good times (i.e., now).

I knew when President Obama was elected that we were all in for some disappointments. I thought it possible he’d be just as bad, in a different way, as the Bush Administration. What I did not consider was that he would BE the Bush Administration.

He’s been pulling 180s on his campaign promises since January, but this week he dropped a bomb. In honor of our country’s complete, bipartisan rejection of a five hundred years of legal and human rights progress, I made a flowchart:

Habeas Corpus Flowchart

How to get a fair trial in the U.S.A.

… and her little brother:

Courtesy of my backyard. Happily, they do not seem to be living there. Just passing through.

So far, the Swine Flu hasn’t really lived up to its early media-fueled pandemic potential. Thank heavens. Still, people down here on the border are making a big show of reassuring the public, despite the fact that we haven’t had (so far) any more cases than anywhere else in the country. But big gatherings are still suspect. btw, sorry for the bad photos. Handheld little snappy camera with ISO 400 max.

Our commencement ceremonies were changed in subtle but noticeable ways. No touching. I was on the stage shaking hands and routing traffic (me: not shown), and after a few shakes, I was told to stop. No touching. This made me realize how much the touching is usually a part of the ritual. It’s a production line of touching. You get touched to be hooded, then handshake that simultaneously serves to hold you back until it’s time to walk across the stage, then the President shakes your hand, hands you the degree, and poses for a picture, then the Dean shakes your hand and sends you to the individual photographer (offstage) who probably touches you to pose you. Well, none o’that. Me, I put a reassuring (I hope) hand on arms or shoulders, the President cleverly put a hand on the back, with the other hand holding the opposite end of the (probably empty) degree tube, and then — weirdest of all – the Deans. No props, and no reason to be there except to congratulate the grads.

As you see, they settled for a weird hand-clasping, praying-type half-bow (or full bow). The whole thing struck me as kind of sad.

In more interesting news, these tubes are cool. The stacks of tubes on shelves seems to fit the medieval academia feel of the funky robes.

In other news, the big square-topped stick in the foreground? I got to carry it last year. It’s called the MACE! I guess graduations used to get rowdy, back in the old days. KEEP IT DOWN YA FRIGGIN’ UNDERGRADS ELSE I’MA MACE YA!