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Five Links for February
3 years ago
confirmed
Abraham de Moivre correctly predicted the date of his own death.
He noted that he was sleeping 15 minutes longer each day and surmised that he would die on the day he slept for 24 hours. That date, he calculated, would be Nov. 27, 1754.
He was right.
He noted that he was sleeping 15 minutes longer each day and surmised that he would die on the day he slept for 24 hours. That date, he calculated, would be Nov. 27, 1754.
He was right.
Where I'm from.
I came to California when I was only 11 years old and not by choice. My father was one of the few who were invited to come to America from what was only recently the Soviet Union on a work visa.
In the first couple of months we were here, my family hiked the Santa Cruz Mountains and came up on a place called Hunters Point in Cupertino, near Stevens Creek; a clearing offering spanning views from San Francisco to South San Jose. We've been dragging our bikes along the way, so my brother and I sat down to rest on a big log. My father sat next to me and we were all silent catching our breath. Finally, he said "This... is the silicon valley. This is the reason why we came here. This is why we left the life we knew behind, our friends, our apartment, our belongings and our country. This is why we are learning English. Because this is a place unlike any other in the world, where anything is possible.."
I didn't understand what he was talking about. My questions about what silicon was and what it had to do with anything were answered by long rants on the importance and progress of the computer chip industry, and went completely over my head. It was not until a few years later when I remembered those words, standing on the same spot and realizing that I was feeling the exact same thing that he must have been feeling back then.
In De Anza I took a Writing course that had a required reading of Joan Didion. It was the first time I read about the early settlers of CA. These were not explorers. They were families. Families with comfortable lives on the East Coast, with jobs, and friends, and houses. Families who one day, gathered all the money they've been saving, bought cattle, packed their belongings, pulled their children out of schools, and took off to uncertainty, isolation, the possibility of suffering, starvation and even death. They set on a dangerous path and they didn't even know what they would find when they got there. Many died, many got lost and never made it, but those that did became some of the founders of California. Families with names like Stanford, Hollister and Haas.
Then came the transcontinental railroads - men who connected the continent and revolutionized the social, political, and economical development of the state. They were outlaws and rugged cowboys bordering on criminals in their boldness and intensity. They ran monopolies. They became millionaires. They had a vision, they had a drive, they spanned distances that now cover over 7 states, and they changed landscapes forever. First and foremost, they were entrepreneurs.
This pattern never ended - after the railroads, there were the aqueducts, the dams, the water, and the agriculture, after that there was the aerospace industry and the suburban sprawl, after that LA and entertainment, then the immigration, etc etc etc
It is not by accident that silicon valley happened exactly here and nowhere else in the world. It is nothing new. The first settlers of California would have scoffed at us for thinking we are something special.
My east coast friends do not understand this. They laugh at how small San Francisco is, or how unprofessional the start-ups can be. They miss the old-school establishments that are present in NY, Pennsylvania, and Boston and value traditions and degrees. But that's not what SF and CA are about. They never strove for that. It is not because it is not capable, but because it decided to leave all of that behind that California is missing these things. California ran away from it, over the plains, through the continent, over the Rockies away from it.
I am from California. And it is precisely because I was not born here, and because I am not an American citizen, nor do I consider myself a representative of the country, that I am truly Californian.
In the first couple of months we were here, my family hiked the Santa Cruz Mountains and came up on a place called Hunters Point in Cupertino, near Stevens Creek; a clearing offering spanning views from San Francisco to South San Jose. We've been dragging our bikes along the way, so my brother and I sat down to rest on a big log. My father sat next to me and we were all silent catching our breath. Finally, he said "This... is the silicon valley. This is the reason why we came here. This is why we left the life we knew behind, our friends, our apartment, our belongings and our country. This is why we are learning English. Because this is a place unlike any other in the world, where anything is possible.."
I didn't understand what he was talking about. My questions about what silicon was and what it had to do with anything were answered by long rants on the importance and progress of the computer chip industry, and went completely over my head. It was not until a few years later when I remembered those words, standing on the same spot and realizing that I was feeling the exact same thing that he must have been feeling back then.
In De Anza I took a Writing course that had a required reading of Joan Didion. It was the first time I read about the early settlers of CA. These were not explorers. They were families. Families with comfortable lives on the East Coast, with jobs, and friends, and houses. Families who one day, gathered all the money they've been saving, bought cattle, packed their belongings, pulled their children out of schools, and took off to uncertainty, isolation, the possibility of suffering, starvation and even death. They set on a dangerous path and they didn't even know what they would find when they got there. Many died, many got lost and never made it, but those that did became some of the founders of California. Families with names like Stanford, Hollister and Haas.
Then came the transcontinental railroads - men who connected the continent and revolutionized the social, political, and economical development of the state. They were outlaws and rugged cowboys bordering on criminals in their boldness and intensity. They ran monopolies. They became millionaires. They had a vision, they had a drive, they spanned distances that now cover over 7 states, and they changed landscapes forever. First and foremost, they were entrepreneurs.
This pattern never ended - after the railroads, there were the aqueducts, the dams, the water, and the agriculture, after that there was the aerospace industry and the suburban sprawl, after that LA and entertainment, then the immigration, etc etc etc
It is not by accident that silicon valley happened exactly here and nowhere else in the world. It is nothing new. The first settlers of California would have scoffed at us for thinking we are something special.
My east coast friends do not understand this. They laugh at how small San Francisco is, or how unprofessional the start-ups can be. They miss the old-school establishments that are present in NY, Pennsylvania, and Boston and value traditions and degrees. But that's not what SF and CA are about. They never strove for that. It is not because it is not capable, but because it decided to leave all of that behind that California is missing these things. California ran away from it, over the plains, through the continent, over the Rockies away from it.
I am from California. And it is precisely because I was not born here, and because I am not an American citizen, nor do I consider myself a representative of the country, that I am truly Californian.
Two scavengers in a truck, two beautiful people in a Mercedes
At the stoplight waiting for the light
nine a.m. downtown San Francisco
a bright yellow garbage truck
with two garbagemen in red plastic blazers
standing on the back stoop
one on each side hanging on
and looking down into
an elegant open Mercedes
with an elegant couple in it
The man
in a hip three-piece linen suit
with shoulder-length blond hair and sunglassed
The young blond woman so casually coifed
with short skirt and coloured stockings
on the way to his architect's office
And the two scavengers up since four a.m.
grungy from their route
on the way home
The older of the two with grey iron hair
and hunched back
looking down like some
gargoyle Quasimodo
And the younger of the two
also with sunglasses and long hair
about the same age as the Mercedes driver
And both scavengers gazing down
as from a great distance
at the cool couple
as if they were watching some odourless TV ad
in which everything is always possible
And the very red light for an instant
holding all four close together
as if anything at all were possible
between them
across that small gulf
in the high sea
of this democracy.
Lawrence Ferlinghetti
nine a.m. downtown San Francisco
a bright yellow garbage truck
with two garbagemen in red plastic blazers
standing on the back stoop
one on each side hanging on
and looking down into
an elegant open Mercedes
with an elegant couple in it
The man
in a hip three-piece linen suit
with shoulder-length blond hair and sunglassed
The young blond woman so casually coifed
with short skirt and coloured stockings
on the way to his architect's office
And the two scavengers up since four a.m.
grungy from their route
on the way home
The older of the two with grey iron hair
and hunched back
looking down like some
gargoyle Quasimodo
And the younger of the two
also with sunglasses and long hair
about the same age as the Mercedes driver
And both scavengers gazing down
as from a great distance
at the cool couple
as if they were watching some odourless TV ad
in which everything is always possible
And the very red light for an instant
holding all four close together
as if anything at all were possible
between them
across that small gulf
in the high sea
of this democracy.
Lawrence Ferlinghetti
Friends
I tend to go out a lot and I meet a lot of people. Many people I meet I don't think I will ever understand or have anything in common with at all. Then there are a whole bunch of people who I think are okay, but I'm not super thrilled or interested about. I still hang out with these people and talk to them, and see them often, and form friendships with them - it's not that I'm fooling anyone, I just prefer to keep an honestly positive outlook in life. And I always tend see more good things in people than bad. Only once in a blue moon I'll meet someone who I actually get really excited to talk to.
I'm starting to realize that this majority, the vast mass of people who I don't mind, but don't particularly care for, are not only useless to me, but are actually detrimental to my well being.
I think it's really important to remain genuine, preserve your integrity, and insist on only associating with those who you have a strong connection to.
I'm starting to realize that this majority, the vast mass of people who I don't mind, but don't particularly care for, are not only useless to me, but are actually detrimental to my well being.
I think it's really important to remain genuine, preserve your integrity, and insist on only associating with those who you have a strong connection to.
Tarkovsky
My favorite movie is Stalker. It's about an area in Siberia, contaminated after a fall of a meteor where a room was discovered in which people's innermost desires come true. Few people dare go there, but a few "stalkers" lead people in. The movie follows a stalker, a writer, and a scientist on their journey to this room through the "zone".
Topic for discussion
"The whole idea of men creating perfect robot women for their own pleasure, it happens every day. The most "beautiful" women you see in public, none of them are for real. They're just men perpetuating their perverted stereotypes of women. Just the oldest story in the world.There's a penis on every page of Cosmopolitan magazine if you know where to look." - Chuck Palahnuik
This is where I am going to live next year and this holiday season
Observatory Gardens, Kensington, London W8 7HY, UK
Link:
http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Observatory+Gardens,+Kensington,+London+W8+7HY,+United+Kingdom&oe=utf-8&client=firefox-a&ie=UTF8&hl=en&cd=1&geocode=FfbiEQMdbwH9_w&split=0&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=23.875,57.630033&hq=&hnear=Observatory+Gardens,+London+W8+7HY,+United+Kingdom&z=16&layer=c&cbll=51.503866,-0.196346&panoid=CERSS5qMO1QlYmyRL-Bayg&cbp=12,201.08,,0,5.34
I sing the body electric
"In the early 20th century, Fritz Kahn produced a succession of books on the inner workings of the human body, using visual metaphors drawn from industrial society—assembly lines, internal combustion engines, refineries, dynamos, telephones, etc. The body, in Kahn’s work, was "modern" and productive, a theme visually emphasized through modernist artwork."
when I was little
I daydreamed that one day I would be the wife of a ruthless business tycoon that would have to inevitably fight slander and inflammation and I would boldly and publicly defend him
People are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered.
Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies.
Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you.
Be honest and frank anyway.
What spend years building, someone may destroy it overnight. Build anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, people may be jealous.
Be happy anyway.
The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow.
Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough.
But give the world the best you have anyway.
You see, in the final analysis, it is all between you and God;
it was never between you and them anyway.
Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies.
Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you.
Be honest and frank anyway.
What spend years building, someone may destroy it overnight. Build anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, people may be jealous.
Be happy anyway.
The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow.
Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough.
But give the world the best you have anyway.
You see, in the final analysis, it is all between you and God;
it was never between you and them anyway.
falling
Confessing your feelings to someone feels like jumping off a cliff. I think it's probably the way committing suicide must feel. Like you made a decision and you're scared as hell and you can't believe you're actually doing it, but it's too late now because you're already in the air.
Like jumping into a pool, the moment before you hit the cold water, it's too late to think about the consequences of your irreversible actions. The only thing that matters is going through with it.
I said it and my mouth went dry. I felt like I just punished somebody.
He laughed nervously.
We talked for a few charged minutes. It's like you could almost hear the high voltage snapping in the air.
And then -- nothing happened.
I realized I didn't think through until this point. Running the scenario through in my head pretty much ended here. Something epic was supposed to happen.
But, like any conversation where you're merely informing somebody about a fact, pretty quickly you run out of things you need to say. I packed my things at least three times and didn't really add anything new before I just got up and left. He seemed relieved.
Then I walked to my car and called my boyfriend.
Like jumping into a pool, the moment before you hit the cold water, it's too late to think about the consequences of your irreversible actions. The only thing that matters is going through with it.
I said it and my mouth went dry. I felt like I just punished somebody.
He laughed nervously.
We talked for a few charged minutes. It's like you could almost hear the high voltage snapping in the air.
And then -- nothing happened.
I realized I didn't think through until this point. Running the scenario through in my head pretty much ended here. Something epic was supposed to happen.
But, like any conversation where you're merely informing somebody about a fact, pretty quickly you run out of things you need to say. I packed my things at least three times and didn't really add anything new before I just got up and left. He seemed relieved.
Then I walked to my car and called my boyfriend.
Russian v American Mentality
I lost my passport and it takes 3 months to get a new one. This is a serious pain because I wanted to go to London next month and then Paris. Instead of waiting for my passport, I'm trying to find another way to do go.
e-mail conversations start at the bottom!
On Thu, Oct 29, 2009 at 5:19 PM, Katerina Barilov wrote:
I like the idea of selling discounted investments for something we don't yet own to make up for the lack of assets we have now - it sounds totally safe and nothing like a pyramid scheme at all!
Katerina Barilova
(408) 429-0087
On Thu, Oct 29, 2009 at 5:15 PM, G[redacted] g[redacted]@[redacted]capital.com wrote:
All we need is to get certified as lenders (not sure if this is hard) then we’re in the money.
Explain it as a simple party credit extension. If they fail to pay us back, we slaughter their credit score and file claims. And to shield ourselves from the losses, we can sell discounted investments for the potential for higher future cash flows. Hah if only we’d be that big.
Would be interesting to see how much traction, receptiveness this would get in the market (SF party scene). I am tempted to dip my toe in the water
From: Katerina Barilov [mailto:yekaterina.barilov@gmail.com]
Sent: Thursday, October 29, 2009 5:11 PM
To: G
Subject: Re: Halloween
We can explain that it's kinda like a sub-prime mortgage so it's all totally cool.
Katerina Barilova
(408) 429-0087
On Thu, Oct 29, 2009 at 5:02 PM, G[redacted] g[redacted]@[redacted]capital.com wrote:
Im comfortable with it. We should do an experiment on a small scale (in advance of new years!) to see what kind of reception we’d get.
From: Katerina Barilov [mailto:yekaterina.barilov@gmail.com]
Sent: Thursday, October 29, 2009 5:00 PM
To: G
Subject: Re: Halloween
Dude totally, I don't know what risk you're talking about - we'll just bundle them all up into securities and swap them nbd
I don't see anything wrong with this idea
I think we should implement immediately.
Katerina Barilova
(408) 429-0087
On Thu, Oct 29, 2009 at 4:58 PM, G[redacted] g[redacted]@[redacted]capital.com wrote:
And to avoid holding the risk, which will be massive, we just enter into swaps with actual banks and other third party investors.
I like this idea
From: Katerina Barilov [mailto:yekaterina.barilov@gmail.com]
Sent: Thursday, October 29, 2009 4:51 PM
To: G
Subject: Re: Halloween
Right. totally my style!
it's crazy to me how much these things cost - it's like people pay $800/$700 bucks per party!!!
that's crazy!!
You know what we should do is open up a credit card for parties like this - like you get to the door and its all "nope sorry, we're all sold out, BUT if you're interested we can offer you a VIP one-time-only opportunity to purchase a VIP super-baller package for $1K. Can't pay? No big deal - pay us back over 2 years! Better yet, 3 years! get 2 packages! No credit check necessary!"
and then BAM 15% interest
Katerina Barilova
(408) 429-0087
On Thu, Oct 29, 2009 at 4:48 PM, G[redacted] g[redacted]@[redacted]capital.com wrote:
Good times – I am surprised I don’t see you in any of the party pictures
On Thu, Oct 29, 2009 at 4:45 PM, Katerina Barilov wrote:
http://www.donovansf.com/
Katerina Barilova
(408) 429-0087
On Thu, Oct 29, 2009 at 4:44 PM, G[redacted] g[redacted]@[redacted]capital.com wrote:
Theres no mention of it on the ana mandara website. Where do u see tix?
I like the idea of selling discounted investments for something we don't yet own to make up for the lack of assets we have now - it sounds totally safe and nothing like a pyramid scheme at all!
Katerina Barilova
(408) 429-0087
On Thu, Oct 29, 2009 at 5:15 PM, G[redacted] g[redacted]@[redacted]capital.com wrote:
All we need is to get certified as lenders (not sure if this is hard) then we’re in the money.
Explain it as a simple party credit extension. If they fail to pay us back, we slaughter their credit score and file claims. And to shield ourselves from the losses, we can sell discounted investments for the potential for higher future cash flows. Hah if only we’d be that big.
Would be interesting to see how much traction, receptiveness this would get in the market (SF party scene). I am tempted to dip my toe in the water
From: Katerina Barilov [mailto:yekaterina.barilov@gmail.com]
Sent: Thursday, October 29, 2009 5:11 PM
To: G
Subject: Re: Halloween
We can explain that it's kinda like a sub-prime mortgage so it's all totally cool.
Katerina Barilova
(408) 429-0087
On Thu, Oct 29, 2009 at 5:02 PM, G[redacted] g[redacted]@[redacted]capital.com wrote:
Im comfortable with it. We should do an experiment on a small scale (in advance of new years!) to see what kind of reception we’d get.
From: Katerina Barilov [mailto:yekaterina.barilov@gmail.com]
Sent: Thursday, October 29, 2009 5:00 PM
To: G
Subject: Re: Halloween
Dude totally, I don't know what risk you're talking about - we'll just bundle them all up into securities and swap them nbd
I don't see anything wrong with this idea
I think we should implement immediately.
Katerina Barilova
(408) 429-0087
On Thu, Oct 29, 2009 at 4:58 PM, G[redacted] g[redacted]@[redacted]capital.com wrote:
And to avoid holding the risk, which will be massive, we just enter into swaps with actual banks and other third party investors.
I like this idea
From: Katerina Barilov [mailto:yekaterina.barilov@gmail.com]
Sent: Thursday, October 29, 2009 4:51 PM
To: G
Subject: Re: Halloween
Right. totally my style!
it's crazy to me how much these things cost - it's like people pay $800/$700 bucks per party!!!
that's crazy!!
You know what we should do is open up a credit card for parties like this - like you get to the door and its all "nope sorry, we're all sold out, BUT if you're interested we can offer you a VIP one-time-only opportunity to purchase a VIP super-baller package for $1K. Can't pay? No big deal - pay us back over 2 years! Better yet, 3 years! get 2 packages! No credit check necessary!"
and then BAM 15% interest
Katerina Barilova
(408) 429-0087
On Thu, Oct 29, 2009 at 4:48 PM, G[redacted] g[redacted]@[redacted]capital.com wrote:
Good times – I am surprised I don’t see you in any of the party pictures
On Thu, Oct 29, 2009 at 4:45 PM, Katerina Barilov
http://www.donovansf.com/
Katerina Barilova
(408) 429-0087
On Thu, Oct 29, 2009 at 4:44 PM, G[redacted] g[redacted]@[redacted]capital.com wrote:
Theres no mention of it on the ana mandara website. Where do u see tix?
Three things
1) Kings of Convenience - I'd rather dance with you
2)FYI:
http://www.newser.com/story/23511/study-links-sex-and-gambling.html
3)This guy also needs to get the Equity Guidelines out by tomorrow AM:
2)FYI:
http://www.newser.com/story/23511/study-links-sex-and-gambling.html
3)This guy also needs to get the Equity Guidelines out by tomorrow AM:
This is not a joke! This place is for reals and I want to live there!
http://giraffemanor.com/giraffe-manor.html
cognitive dissonance agrees on one thing
The more I listen to podcasts on the economy the more confused I grow about whether I'm a bigger fan of Ayn Rand or Noam Chomsky and why it can't be both.
I think I'm just a big fan of people who know exactly what it is they don't like.
I'm just a big fan of complaining.
I think I'm just a big fan of people who know exactly what it is they don't like.
I'm just a big fan of complaining.
In-laws.
Let me tell you a little bit about my grandfathers.
As one would expect, I have two, but it really doesn't feel that way. It feels more like I had two in my life, but one at a time.
When I was born my mother continued to work and my father was just done finishing his dissertation on Artificial Intelligence at the Academy of Sciences in Leningrad. For whatever reason, my parents gave up their small studio in Leningrad and moved in with my grandparents on my mother's side, who lived about 30 minutes outside of the city in a military educational city.
(to be continued, need to come back to this one)
As one would expect, I have two, but it really doesn't feel that way. It feels more like I had two in my life, but one at a time.
When I was born my mother continued to work and my father was just done finishing his dissertation on Artificial Intelligence at the Academy of Sciences in Leningrad. For whatever reason, my parents gave up their small studio in Leningrad and moved in with my grandparents on my mother's side, who lived about 30 minutes outside of the city in a military educational city.
(to be continued, need to come back to this one)
Literary Progress Through the Ages of a Developing Artist
The first short story I had ever written was when I was 5. It was about a girl who was friends with a ghost. Nobody liked the ghost and he was always made fun of because he was a ghost and there was some sort of discrimination involved.. The girl became embarrassed and stopped talking to him. But then the ghost became really good at racing cars and won everyone's respect. He wasn't friends with the girl anymore because she betrayed him.
The first poem I've ever written was when I was 6. It went like this (roughly translated):
Where the sun is shining,
And the water's bright
That's where you should live
That's where it is great
My parents took the poem to heart and quoted it a lot when we moved to America.
That irritated me because that wasn't what I meant when I wrote it!!!!
My second short story came when I was 12. I had a dream one night, woke up and wrote it down.
It was about a group of people who were all suicidally depressed. There were two women and three men. Because they found it difficult to kill themselves and have their family discover them, they decided to form a group and all do it together. They went out to an isolated part of a forest where there were train tracks and waited for the train to come. They camped out in the cold and waited. They got hungry and tired and it started raining after a few days. They were in a small tent with a single electric lantern and they burned a small fire every night and told stories. A few days went by like this but the train never came. They thought about going back home but because they spent such a long time in the woods for this, and because they were all prepared to make such an enormous decision, none of them could turn back. Eventually, they were out there for a week and people started questioning whether or not the train was going to come at all. The whole situation was even more depressing and hopeless than the lives they left behind.
One night it was raining pretty hard and they were sleeping in their tent when it was illuminated by a bright light and they were woken up by the blasting horn of an oncoming train. In fumbled excitement, but groggy from sleep they all bolted up, grabbed the lantern and ran to the train tracks. Wet from the rain they all stood in a line and held hands and waited for the impact.
The impact came not only harsher but much less instant than they expected.
Because there were five of them on the tracks, the damage was distributed unevenly - the guy standing directly in front of the train was dismembered and the carnage was strewn around the campsite. His neighbor was still on the track but his legs were missing. One of the girls was missing a limb and lying in a puddle with the broken lantern. Blue sparks were flying away from her body.
Three people survived but were injured - one woman and two men. The woman was standing on the right side of the track and only suffered several broken bones and the other survivors was the one without the legs, and a man who was severely injured.
At this instant, their situation turned to one of survival - they crawled together and fumbled to save one another. They cried and pleaded for each other's lives - they had become friends and their lives meant a lot to each other. The woman in the puddle did not die instantly but they could not save her. The man who was missing his legs died of bleeding before the sun came up. The two remaining survivors spent the next three days burying the bodies and healing each others wounds before they were found by a rescue party.
They said the only reason they survived was because they fought so hard for their lives.
THE END
The first poem I've ever written was when I was 6. It went like this (roughly translated):
Where the sun is shining,
And the water's bright
That's where you should live
That's where it is great
My parents took the poem to heart and quoted it a lot when we moved to America.
That irritated me because that wasn't what I meant when I wrote it!!!!
My second short story came when I was 12. I had a dream one night, woke up and wrote it down.
It was about a group of people who were all suicidally depressed. There were two women and three men. Because they found it difficult to kill themselves and have their family discover them, they decided to form a group and all do it together. They went out to an isolated part of a forest where there were train tracks and waited for the train to come. They camped out in the cold and waited. They got hungry and tired and it started raining after a few days. They were in a small tent with a single electric lantern and they burned a small fire every night and told stories. A few days went by like this but the train never came. They thought about going back home but because they spent such a long time in the woods for this, and because they were all prepared to make such an enormous decision, none of them could turn back. Eventually, they were out there for a week and people started questioning whether or not the train was going to come at all. The whole situation was even more depressing and hopeless than the lives they left behind.
One night it was raining pretty hard and they were sleeping in their tent when it was illuminated by a bright light and they were woken up by the blasting horn of an oncoming train. In fumbled excitement, but groggy from sleep they all bolted up, grabbed the lantern and ran to the train tracks. Wet from the rain they all stood in a line and held hands and waited for the impact.
The impact came not only harsher but much less instant than they expected.
Because there were five of them on the tracks, the damage was distributed unevenly - the guy standing directly in front of the train was dismembered and the carnage was strewn around the campsite. His neighbor was still on the track but his legs were missing. One of the girls was missing a limb and lying in a puddle with the broken lantern. Blue sparks were flying away from her body.
Three people survived but were injured - one woman and two men. The woman was standing on the right side of the track and only suffered several broken bones and the other survivors was the one without the legs, and a man who was severely injured.
At this instant, their situation turned to one of survival - they crawled together and fumbled to save one another. They cried and pleaded for each other's lives - they had become friends and their lives meant a lot to each other. The woman in the puddle did not die instantly but they could not save her. The man who was missing his legs died of bleeding before the sun came up. The two remaining survivors spent the next three days burying the bodies and healing each others wounds before they were found by a rescue party.
They said the only reason they survived was because they fought so hard for their lives.
THE END
Ты стоишь у окна, небосвод высок и светел,
Ты стоишь и грустишь, и не знаешь, отчего
Потому что опять он прошел и не заметил
Как ты любишь его, как тоскуешь без него
Расскажи, подскажи, разве в нем одном отрада
Или просто тебе стало холодно одной
Может просто тепла твоему сердечку надо
Чтоб не ждать, не страдать и не плакать под луной
Все пройдет, все пройдет, будет поздно или рано
Теплым днем, светлым дней засияет все кругом
Так не плачь, не грусти, как царевна Несмеяна
Это глупое детство прощается с тобой...
Ты стоишь и грустишь, и не знаешь, отчего
Потому что опять он прошел и не заметил
Как ты любишь его, как тоскуешь без него
Расскажи, подскажи, разве в нем одном отрада
Или просто тебе стало холодно одной
Может просто тепла твоему сердечку надо
Чтоб не ждать, не страдать и не плакать под луной
Все пройдет, все пройдет, будет поздно или рано
Теплым днем, светлым дней засияет все кругом
Так не плачь, не грусти, как царевна Несмеяна
Это глупое детство прощается с тобой...
Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita mi ritrovai per una selva oscura, che la diritta via era smarrita...
Земную жизнь пройдя до половины,
Я очутился в сумрачном лесу,
Утратив правый путь во тьме долины.
Я очутился в сумрачном лесу,
Утратив правый путь во тьме долины.
Anything invented before your fifteenth birthday is the order of nature. That's how it should be. Anything invented between your 15th and 35th birthday is new and exciting, and you might get a career there. Anything invented after that day, however, is against nature and should be prohibited. - Douglas Adams
I think it's interesting that before, a lot of movies, books, and tv shows were set in the future. But not anymore. There was so much of future - themed stuff! Where did all of that go?
Also, you don't see a lot of things getting sucked down whirlpools.
Or people falling down manholes.
What's up with that?
Also, you don't see a lot of things getting sucked down whirlpools.
Or people falling down manholes.
What's up with that?
Organization
Last night my boyfriend and I got into a big fight because he's mad that I am not organized enough.
It's true and I couldn't offer much of a defense - I rarely know what I'm going to be doing 2 hours from now, I rend to work sporadically, and I allow myself to get way behind in things like laundry, dishes, and other household chores before I decide to have a "General Cleaning day!" and scrub everything all day long. It's the way it's always been, and I'm a huge pain in the ass, but I'm not sure how to change these things.
Today at work I read an article about Andy Warhol's "Time Capsule" archives - this is a collection of 177 boxes stored somewhere in New Jersey.
Andy, it appears, had a similar problem, and to solve his disorganization, would carry around a box, and put random things in it that he found throughout the day. At the end of the week, he would tape the box up and ship it to a storage facility.
Now people are paying money for the privilege of rifling through the garbage in these boxes - taxi receipts, moldy pies, naked pictures, etc. and catalogue these contents.
Maybe one day I'll become famous and incredible and my disorganization will be worth millions as well.
Just in case, I'm going to keep doing things just the way I like to :)
It's true and I couldn't offer much of a defense - I rarely know what I'm going to be doing 2 hours from now, I rend to work sporadically, and I allow myself to get way behind in things like laundry, dishes, and other household chores before I decide to have a "General Cleaning day!" and scrub everything all day long. It's the way it's always been, and I'm a huge pain in the ass, but I'm not sure how to change these things.
Today at work I read an article about Andy Warhol's "Time Capsule" archives - this is a collection of 177 boxes stored somewhere in New Jersey.
Andy, it appears, had a similar problem, and to solve his disorganization, would carry around a box, and put random things in it that he found throughout the day. At the end of the week, he would tape the box up and ship it to a storage facility.
Now people are paying money for the privilege of rifling through the garbage in these boxes - taxi receipts, moldy pies, naked pictures, etc. and catalogue these contents.
Maybe one day I'll become famous and incredible and my disorganization will be worth millions as well.
Just in case, I'm going to keep doing things just the way I like to :)
Interesting Article
http://www.nytimes.com//interactive/2009/07/31/business/20080801-metrics-graphic.html?ref=business
From how to cut paper to where did I put the scissors
I had a few too many glasses of wine last night and was up late reading a book. It talked about a designer who described creativity as "a leap across a chasm not breachable by reason" and compared it to something like a quantum leap in physics. Creativity, he said, is the joining of two seemingly unrelated things that are connected in unexpected and useful terms.
I realized that I never really thought about creativity before as a concept, although I've always placed such a high importance on it. I judge people so much on this factor, I realize.
I used to think that the antithesis to creativity was complacency, and that those people who were least creative were those who have serially settled for the obvious choices and paths in life. I still think that, to some degree, but what occurred to me last night that I can't get out of my head is the nature of the relationship of creativity to inhibition.
I'm becoming more and more convinced that the opposite of creativity is not complacency, but embarrassment, the fear of making a fool of oneself. Creativity, after all, exists not in a vacuum, but in the context of human relationships and society. What would impressionism be without the classicism and romanticism? How brave Piccasso must have been to exhibit his first cubist painting! In a society with a well-established way of doing things, he created his entirely own solution - one that to most people outside of his immediate circle must have seen as entirely idiotic..
I guess these thoughts are not news-breaking - most people understand that the greatest advances have been made by those who stood out of the crowd and firmly adhered to their internal beliefs. But I think that any creative endeavor is marred by this. It takes GUTS! And furthermore, your products are judged by the public, and if well received, influenced by that praise. And how hard must it be to not proceed in the direction by which more praise is received?
As a consequence of being extremely self conscious, I feel embarrassed almost 85% of the time. I don't think that this is a bad thing, but it has kind of entered as part of my reality. Almost half of my blog posts on this journal are saved in drafts - they're things I wrote, became embarrassed about, and hid.
One possibility is that it's because they are the most original, but another equally probable one is that they are just ghastly stupid.
I get marching to the beat of your own drum.
But what if you realize you're in a high school marching band and your drummer sucks?
I realized that I never really thought about creativity before as a concept, although I've always placed such a high importance on it. I judge people so much on this factor, I realize.
I used to think that the antithesis to creativity was complacency, and that those people who were least creative were those who have serially settled for the obvious choices and paths in life. I still think that, to some degree, but what occurred to me last night that I can't get out of my head is the nature of the relationship of creativity to inhibition.
I'm becoming more and more convinced that the opposite of creativity is not complacency, but embarrassment, the fear of making a fool of oneself. Creativity, after all, exists not in a vacuum, but in the context of human relationships and society. What would impressionism be without the classicism and romanticism? How brave Piccasso must have been to exhibit his first cubist painting! In a society with a well-established way of doing things, he created his entirely own solution - one that to most people outside of his immediate circle must have seen as entirely idiotic..
I guess these thoughts are not news-breaking - most people understand that the greatest advances have been made by those who stood out of the crowd and firmly adhered to their internal beliefs. But I think that any creative endeavor is marred by this. It takes GUTS! And furthermore, your products are judged by the public, and if well received, influenced by that praise. And how hard must it be to not proceed in the direction by which more praise is received?
As a consequence of being extremely self conscious, I feel embarrassed almost 85% of the time. I don't think that this is a bad thing, but it has kind of entered as part of my reality. Almost half of my blog posts on this journal are saved in drafts - they're things I wrote, became embarrassed about, and hid.
One possibility is that it's because they are the most original, but another equally probable one is that they are just ghastly stupid.
I get marching to the beat of your own drum.
But what if you realize you're in a high school marching band and your drummer sucks?
Several Things
1). Are overdraft fees fair? I understand that the bank has to protect itself against giving people money which they don't have, and that essentially they are giving me a short-term loan on any money that I withdraw beyond that which is in my checking account, but is that loan structured in a fair way?
First of all, o.d. fees are charged per transaction - that means if I overdraw once by $159872983, I get charged $33, but if I overdraft 5 transactions of $3, I get charged $200. That system is essentially set up to punish the consumer that makes many $3 purchases, not one that is a high-roller. That's a loan with a 1,166.67% interest rate!
Is it just another way the banks prey on those who are in a less fortunate situation? Something about this whole shebang just seems fundamentally really unfair and unsettling.
When you talk to the managers, banks try to present overdraft fees in the familiar way of a fine - sort of like a parking ticket - for every infraction you make, you pay a fee. But when did we stop realizing that it is NOT a parking ticket - you are not supporting your city, or the municipality, you are supporting the BANK - it is absolute, PURE profit which they make on your mistake.
I get responsibility, and I get that I have a choice in the matter, and I get that risks need to be mitigated, but permitting overdrafts and charging without the consumers consent is unfair! These are simple math errors, or honest mistakes. And it's not like there is a lack of options here - I'm certain that there are ways that banks can link these accounts to savings, or credit cards, which can serve as a back up in case of an emergency.
Okay, I'm done with my rant. Feels a little bit better to get all of that out.
2). Why do I always feel like my life is a Dostoevsky novel?
3).
First of all, o.d. fees are charged per transaction - that means if I overdraw once by $159872983, I get charged $33, but if I overdraft 5 transactions of $3, I get charged $200. That system is essentially set up to punish the consumer that makes many $3 purchases, not one that is a high-roller. That's a loan with a 1,166.67% interest rate!
Is it just another way the banks prey on those who are in a less fortunate situation? Something about this whole shebang just seems fundamentally really unfair and unsettling.
When you talk to the managers, banks try to present overdraft fees in the familiar way of a fine - sort of like a parking ticket - for every infraction you make, you pay a fee. But when did we stop realizing that it is NOT a parking ticket - you are not supporting your city, or the municipality, you are supporting the BANK - it is absolute, PURE profit which they make on your mistake.
I get responsibility, and I get that I have a choice in the matter, and I get that risks need to be mitigated, but permitting overdrafts and charging without the consumers consent is unfair! These are simple math errors, or honest mistakes. And it's not like there is a lack of options here - I'm certain that there are ways that banks can link these accounts to savings, or credit cards, which can serve as a back up in case of an emergency.
Okay, I'm done with my rant. Feels a little bit better to get all of that out.
2). Why do I always feel like my life is a Dostoevsky novel?
3).
North Korean Economy
Awesome podcast
http://www.npr.org/blogs/money/2009/05/hear_north_koreas_hidden_marke.html
http://www.npr.org/blogs/money/2009/05/hear_north_koreas_hidden_marke.html
The best business idea I've ever had
me: you know what you should build?
a gym that would be environmentally sound
bc it would be powered entirely
by people on treadmills!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sent at 11:10 AM on Tuesday
Aleksandr: ppph
me: you would come in in the morning and it would be like, all dark and stuff
and you'd get on the statinary bike
and power up the gym!
and the more people worked, the more electricity they'd produce
so it'd be free membership
you just need to make X amount of watts
otherwise you have to pay for the overhead costs
its fucking GENIOUS
sometimes, I surprise myself at how brilliant I am
Sent at 11:23 AM on Tuesday
Aleksandr: Yea! We'll also hve a liposuction room where we convert body fat into bio fuel!
Sent at 11:28 AM on Tuesday
me: and then we'll use it to fuel the machines that would make the fat into plastic
to make MORE MACHINES
Aleksandr: Actually i cant think of anything wrong with this idea
me: yeah
because it's PURE FUCKING GENIOUS
Sent at 11:33 AM on Tuesday
Aleksandr: i agree we should start implementing this immediately
me: ok you draw up the designs and I'll be the creative director
Aleksandr: We should make it mandatory for all citizens who can walk
me: but....
those that are in wheelchairs should be required to use their arms
Sent at 11:36 AM on Tuesday
Aleksandr: obviously
a gym that would be environmentally sound
bc it would be powered entirely
by people on treadmills!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sent at 11:10 AM on Tuesday
Aleksandr: ppph
me: you would come in in the morning and it would be like, all dark and stuff
and you'd get on the statinary bike
and power up the gym!
and the more people worked, the more electricity they'd produce
so it'd be free membership
you just need to make X amount of watts
otherwise you have to pay for the overhead costs
its fucking GENIOUS
sometimes, I surprise myself at how brilliant I am
Sent at 11:23 AM on Tuesday
Aleksandr: Yea! We'll also hve a liposuction room where we convert body fat into bio fuel!
Sent at 11:28 AM on Tuesday
me: and then we'll use it to fuel the machines that would make the fat into plastic
to make MORE MACHINES
Aleksandr: Actually i cant think of anything wrong with this idea
me: yeah
because it's PURE FUCKING GENIOUS
Sent at 11:33 AM on Tuesday
Aleksandr: i agree we should start implementing this immediately
me: ok you draw up the designs and I'll be the creative director
Aleksandr: We should make it mandatory for all citizens who can walk
me: but....
those that are in wheelchairs should be required to use their arms
Sent at 11:36 AM on Tuesday
Aleksandr: obviously
Writing to Death Row
I recently read an account by a person who went to maximum security prison. There was one excerpt in particular that really moved me:
"9pm is lockdown for the night. This is when you write desperate letters to old friends, ex girlfriends, etc. Anyone you think might possibly write you back. Even if its to tell you what a fuckoff you were and how much they hate you and never, ever write them again, it's a letter you will read over and over again because its something somebody took the time to put pen to paper to with you in mind. Validation that your whole existance on this Earth hasn't somehow been deleted from everyone's memory."
I was 'stumbling' earlier today at work and came across an inmate pen-pal matching site. I decided to write a letter. I wrote two pages worth and attached a post card. I figured, here is my chance to do a little bit of something positive for somebody. It would really make an impact, I figure. And besides, maybe I can learn a thing or two about life from somebody in dire circumstances.
I've never thought how hard it would be to choose who to write to though. What do you go by? At first, I went by the self-description the person wrote and what they were looking for. I wanted to send my letter to someone who's only looking for friendship, not any sort of romantic or financial involvement.
Then, I would settle on a name, and google them just to see. BAM turns out the guy is a serial killer and raped and murdered 7 women. BAM turns out he murdered his mother.
How do you write a letter to somebody like that? And is it wrong for me to judge? Wasn't writing a letter to an inmate supposed to include the assumption that they are accused of a violent crime?! And what about the ones who claim their innocence, or those who are strong political advocates. Would it be better/more interesting to write to someone like that?
Turns out this endeavor is much more complicated than I ever thought it would be.
"9pm is lockdown for the night. This is when you write desperate letters to old friends, ex girlfriends, etc. Anyone you think might possibly write you back. Even if its to tell you what a fuckoff you were and how much they hate you and never, ever write them again, it's a letter you will read over and over again because its something somebody took the time to put pen to paper to with you in mind. Validation that your whole existance on this Earth hasn't somehow been deleted from everyone's memory."
I was 'stumbling' earlier today at work and came across an inmate pen-pal matching site. I decided to write a letter. I wrote two pages worth and attached a post card. I figured, here is my chance to do a little bit of something positive for somebody. It would really make an impact, I figure. And besides, maybe I can learn a thing or two about life from somebody in dire circumstances.
I've never thought how hard it would be to choose who to write to though. What do you go by? At first, I went by the self-description the person wrote and what they were looking for. I wanted to send my letter to someone who's only looking for friendship, not any sort of romantic or financial involvement.
Then, I would settle on a name, and google them just to see. BAM turns out the guy is a serial killer and raped and murdered 7 women. BAM turns out he murdered his mother.
How do you write a letter to somebody like that? And is it wrong for me to judge? Wasn't writing a letter to an inmate supposed to include the assumption that they are accused of a violent crime?! And what about the ones who claim their innocence, or those who are strong political advocates. Would it be better/more interesting to write to someone like that?
Turns out this endeavor is much more complicated than I ever thought it would be.
I just remembered an episode
My family has only had 1 garage sale in my entire life. It was when we were cleaning out the house in preparation for remodeling. We took everything outside and laid it out on the lawn.
More than anything else, there were a lot of computer parts and accessories. There was an old Apple 2 that my dad brought with him from Russia way back when we first moved, a bright blue iMac, and large balls of tangled wires. Among these was an old printer that used to belong to my brother. It no longer worked and was physically mutilated by his creative genius with the help of a black sharpie. Across the top panel a large sign announced it's new alias:
"FULL METAL JACKASS"
Many people came by but not a lot of people bought anything, especially in the computer/electronics category. Towards the very end of the day, a Cupertino-typical asian family drove up in a van. A middle-aged gentleman came out and perused our lawn for salvageable electronics. The printer caught his eye and he asked us for the price. We said $2 as we weren't sure if it really worked. He asked for proof of it working correctly. We then carried the Full Metal Jackass into the house, plugged it in to a wall and watched as it typed out a long string of insults to show it's printing competency as per an inbuilt test. #$%(#$@#$@$*%&#(@&! it read for an entire page. The man seemed happy with his find and took the printer home. We laughed about it for the next few hours while we packed up the things that people did not buy.
That evening our doorbell rang. It was the asian man, with the "FULL METAL JACKASS" in his hand, asking for his $2 back.
I still have that printer somewhere in the garage. I love it too much to throw it away.
More than anything else, there were a lot of computer parts and accessories. There was an old Apple 2 that my dad brought with him from Russia way back when we first moved, a bright blue iMac, and large balls of tangled wires. Among these was an old printer that used to belong to my brother. It no longer worked and was physically mutilated by his creative genius with the help of a black sharpie. Across the top panel a large sign announced it's new alias:
"FULL METAL JACKASS"
Many people came by but not a lot of people bought anything, especially in the computer/electronics category. Towards the very end of the day, a Cupertino-typical asian family drove up in a van. A middle-aged gentleman came out and perused our lawn for salvageable electronics. The printer caught his eye and he asked us for the price. We said $2 as we weren't sure if it really worked. He asked for proof of it working correctly. We then carried the Full Metal Jackass into the house, plugged it in to a wall and watched as it typed out a long string of insults to show it's printing competency as per an inbuilt test. #$%(#$@#$@$*%&#(@&! it read for an entire page. The man seemed happy with his find and took the printer home. We laughed about it for the next few hours while we packed up the things that people did not buy.
That evening our doorbell rang. It was the asian man, with the "FULL METAL JACKASS" in his hand, asking for his $2 back.
I still have that printer somewhere in the garage. I love it too much to throw it away.
Martydrom
I saw a show on TV the other night done by the Christian Broadcasting Network. It attempted to explain the devil in scientific terms. According to their theory, evil is an energy field, a form of dark magnetism. Missionaies are sent into the parts of this world where these fields are strongest in an attempt to disrupt them. Often these missionaries are going to certain death. But their deaths, called martyrdom by the broadcast, up the nubers of new missionary applications by 25%. Maybe these missionaries think they're fighting the magnetism but it's really just dragging them to their own destruction.
There's no doubt that love is an attraction. People are drawn together. It's a form of pure light magnetism. But evil also has it's pull.
There's no doubt that love is an attraction. People are drawn together. It's a form of pure light magnetism. But evil also has it's pull.
Went to Aventine for like, 30 minutes last night for Dan Snyder's bday. Feels like I've been invited to at least 3 other Dan Snyder birthday parties already, but I still haven't met him in person.
Aventine's a nice place, but it still has that unfinished feel for me - first impressions are important - and it opened before the construction was finished. Think it's all done now, but still feels like it's being renovated.
Not as packed as it used to be when it just opened.
Is Aventine past it's prime?
What is the prime like for a SF location?
UPDATE: Just RSVP'd to Ambassador tonight for... Dan SNYDER's BDAY! can't wait.
Aventine's a nice place, but it still has that unfinished feel for me - first impressions are important - and it opened before the construction was finished. Think it's all done now, but still feels like it's being renovated.
Not as packed as it used to be when it just opened.
Is Aventine past it's prime?
What is the prime like for a SF location?
UPDATE: Just RSVP'd to Ambassador tonight for... Dan SNYDER's BDAY! can't wait.
North Korea
It has been a while that I've been obsessing about North Korea.
North Korea is the most serious country in the world. Logic, time, regard for human rights, and basic common sense do not apply there. Reading about it gives me the chills and a certain sense of giddiness - not because it's a light-hearted subject, but because things are so outrageously horrifyingly demented there that you get this feeling like you just don't know how to react.
I am tempted to make a list of reasons about why I am engulfed in this particular obsession, but it would be difficult for me to exhaust the true insanity and quirkiness of the DRPK. Instead, here are just a few of my favorite North Korean facts:
Every single apartment in North Korea has a radio installed into the wall that is playing the government news casts. You cannot turn this radio off, you can only turn it down. That is the only radio you are allowed to have.
In the capital city of Pyongyang, there are loudspeakers on every corner. Every morning at 7am, they play loud music because that is the collective time to wake up.
If you're planning on traveling to North Korea, you better not be handicapped, or old, not because of lack of ramps, but because handicapped people are not allowed in North Korea - they put them in concentration camps instead.
The entire country has a dress code.
Cell phones, cars, magazines, and travel are not allowed in North Korea.
They used to have a dictator "president," but he died. Since then, he became the "eternal president" as in, he's going to be the president forever.
>1% of the population is incarcerated. If you commit a crime, not only do you go to jail, but so does your entire family, including extended family members.
Only 20 people a year are allowed to visit North Korea - none of them are American or Japanese.
They have a website that looks like something I could have made in 8th grade
http://www.korea-dpr.com/
Oh. and they sell t-shirts
http://www.cafepress.com/kfashop
North Korea is the most serious country in the world. Logic, time, regard for human rights, and basic common sense do not apply there. Reading about it gives me the chills and a certain sense of giddiness - not because it's a light-hearted subject, but because things are so outrageously horrifyingly demented there that you get this feeling like you just don't know how to react.
I am tempted to make a list of reasons about why I am engulfed in this particular obsession, but it would be difficult for me to exhaust the true insanity and quirkiness of the DRPK. Instead, here are just a few of my favorite North Korean facts:
Every single apartment in North Korea has a radio installed into the wall that is playing the government news casts. You cannot turn this radio off, you can only turn it down. That is the only radio you are allowed to have.
In the capital city of Pyongyang, there are loudspeakers on every corner. Every morning at 7am, they play loud music because that is the collective time to wake up.
If you're planning on traveling to North Korea, you better not be handicapped, or old, not because of lack of ramps, but because handicapped people are not allowed in North Korea - they put them in concentration camps instead.
The entire country has a dress code.
Cell phones, cars, magazines, and travel are not allowed in North Korea.
They used to have a dictator "president," but he died. Since then, he became the "eternal president" as in, he's going to be the president forever.
>1% of the population is incarcerated. If you commit a crime, not only do you go to jail, but so does your entire family, including extended family members.
Only 20 people a year are allowed to visit North Korea - none of them are American or Japanese.
They have a website that looks like something I could have made in 8th grade
http://www.korea-dpr.com/
Oh. and they sell t-shirts
http://www.cafepress.com/kfashop
Reasons why I'm obsessed with the Komodo Dragon
Most little girls like ponies, or horses, or dolphins. When I was little, my favorite animal was the Komodo Dragon.
There were pictures of it in a book about animals that I had and I became absolutely obsessed with them.
Recently, there was a story about how a bunch of Komodo Dragons ate a fisherman and I remembered my childhood obsession.
A quick search turned up infinite amount of awesomeness. Here are a few reasons why anybody should be completely obsessed with the Komodo Dragon, AAH!:
It is 3 meters long.
They can stand on their hind legs using their tail for leverage
They climb trees
They can lay eggs without any males (a la the virgin mary)
They have 60 frequently-replaced serrated teeth that can measure up to 2.5 centimeters (1 inch) in length.
Their saliva is frequently blood-tinged, because the teeth are almost completely covered by gingival tissue that is naturally lacerated during feeding. This creates an ideal culture for the virulent bacteria that live in its mouth.
They eat COBRAS!
They eat smaller animals (up to the size of a goat) by swallowing them whole, a process they may attempt to speed up by ramming the carcass against a tree to force it down its throat, sometimes ramming so forcefully that the tree is knocked down. To prevent itself from suffocating while swallowing, it breathes using a small tube under the tongue that connects to the lungs.
They live up to 50 years!
They are cannibalistic
They are venomous
"Last month a park ranger survived after a Komodo dragon climbed the ladder into his hut and savaged his hand and foot. "
OMFG
There were pictures of it in a book about animals that I had and I became absolutely obsessed with them.
Recently, there was a story about how a bunch of Komodo Dragons ate a fisherman and I remembered my childhood obsession.
A quick search turned up infinite amount of awesomeness. Here are a few reasons why anybody should be completely obsessed with the Komodo Dragon, AAH!:
It is 3 meters long.
They can stand on their hind legs using their tail for leverage
They climb trees
They can lay eggs without any males (a la the virgin mary)
They have 60 frequently-replaced serrated teeth that can measure up to 2.5 centimeters (1 inch) in length.
Their saliva is frequently blood-tinged, because the teeth are almost completely covered by gingival tissue that is naturally lacerated during feeding. This creates an ideal culture for the virulent bacteria that live in its mouth.
They eat COBRAS!
They eat smaller animals (up to the size of a goat) by swallowing them whole, a process they may attempt to speed up by ramming the carcass against a tree to force it down its throat, sometimes ramming so forcefully that the tree is knocked down. To prevent itself from suffocating while swallowing, it breathes using a small tube under the tongue that connects to the lungs.
They live up to 50 years!
They are cannibalistic
They are venomous
"Last month a park ranger survived after a Komodo dragon climbed the ladder into his hut and savaged his hand and foot. "
OMFG
Modern Love
You know it's '09 when the largest impacts to your love life come in the form of wall posts and text messages.
Weekend party recap:
Went to Vessel on Saturday for Alex Lloyd's bday - forgot why I stopped going there, but after a visit remembered again! Being in the VIP area made it bearable, but I forget how tacky clubs can be. Especially in SF.
Me, Aubert, Fred, and Amanda Ty hung out there for a while and then took off and spent the rest of the night trampsing around the usual spots - Tipsy pig, then off to Balboa, then finally Lion's Den to call it a night.
Had the best time ever with these three
Went to Vessel on Saturday for Alex Lloyd's bday - forgot why I stopped going there, but after a visit remembered again! Being in the VIP area made it bearable, but I forget how tacky clubs can be. Especially in SF.
Me, Aubert, Fred, and Amanda Ty hung out there for a while and then took off and spent the rest of the night trampsing around the usual spots - Tipsy pig, then off to Balboa, then finally Lion's Den to call it a night.
Had the best time ever with these three
recurring dreams
One of the recurring dreams that I have is the variation of the same theme. In this dream, I have killed someone (sometimes unintentionally) and am examining the consequences.
Sometimes I don't even remember the murder, the dream begins at the point when I am running away from my guilty conscience and the rest of the world. I'm constantly wondering if anyone knows or suspects me. I look through newspapers and magazines, I watch the news and am afraid to talk to anyone. I live in constant transit.
Last night I woke up in the middle of the night in fear. I had a nightmare. I dreamt, again, that I was a brutal murderer. That I had killed not once, but twice at least, that I had an accomplice that was even more brutal and horrific in his crimes, and that both of us have been caught. I had a distinct and detailed version of the crime, and it was violent, and nasty, and cruel.
When we were caught, however, there was no punishment. Our acts have been revealed and accepted. There were no consequences.
It was one of the scariest dreams I've ever had.
Sometimes I don't even remember the murder, the dream begins at the point when I am running away from my guilty conscience and the rest of the world. I'm constantly wondering if anyone knows or suspects me. I look through newspapers and magazines, I watch the news and am afraid to talk to anyone. I live in constant transit.
Last night I woke up in the middle of the night in fear. I had a nightmare. I dreamt, again, that I was a brutal murderer. That I had killed not once, but twice at least, that I had an accomplice that was even more brutal and horrific in his crimes, and that both of us have been caught. I had a distinct and detailed version of the crime, and it was violent, and nasty, and cruel.
When we were caught, however, there was no punishment. Our acts have been revealed and accepted. There were no consequences.
It was one of the scariest dreams I've ever had.
Best Western
little known fact - the Best Western hotel chain isn't actually a hotel chain - It's a non-profit, which you can join if you pay some dues. Paying these dues gives you the right to put a Best Western sign on your hotel.
I never knew this about them.
I never knew this about them.
R.I.P trusty friend
Today is a sad day for me. My Iphone sputtered, coughed, sighed, and finally gave up it's final signs of life.
Looking at it, it's hard to believe the way it looked when I first bought it.
The screen is shattered into teeny pieces and criss-crossed by cracks blooming from one corner across the glass plate. The plastic is chipped - one of the speakers stopped working a long time ago. The Apple logo on the back no longer reflects anything from being rubbed against rough surfaces way too many times. The aluminum is worn down to the grey underneath, as if it has been battered by a sandstorm. One of the corners has a pretty big dent, which causes the top part of the phone to bend up a few millimeters over the screen.
It lived with me a total of a year and four months.
In this time it has managed to do a lot... It has blossomed relationships, fostered new friendships and connections. Had delivered messages of confessions, disappointments, hopes, of unbearable heartbreak. Had mended fights, hurt feelings, had made me laugh and cry. Had made me love it, hate it, cling to it in desperation.
It's no wonder it looks this way now. This little piece of shiny metal has had a lot directed at it in my life.
Goodbye phone. You will be missed.
I went and bought a new 3G. Its shiny black plastic back is already covered by a neat slick case. The screen is safe under a thick plastic protector.
This new phone hasn't yet seen any outrageous text messages or dramatic emails.
I intend to keep in this condition for a very long time...
Looking at it, it's hard to believe the way it looked when I first bought it.
The screen is shattered into teeny pieces and criss-crossed by cracks blooming from one corner across the glass plate. The plastic is chipped - one of the speakers stopped working a long time ago. The Apple logo on the back no longer reflects anything from being rubbed against rough surfaces way too many times. The aluminum is worn down to the grey underneath, as if it has been battered by a sandstorm. One of the corners has a pretty big dent, which causes the top part of the phone to bend up a few millimeters over the screen.
It lived with me a total of a year and four months.
In this time it has managed to do a lot... It has blossomed relationships, fostered new friendships and connections. Had delivered messages of confessions, disappointments, hopes, of unbearable heartbreak. Had mended fights, hurt feelings, had made me laugh and cry. Had made me love it, hate it, cling to it in desperation.
It's no wonder it looks this way now. This little piece of shiny metal has had a lot directed at it in my life.
Goodbye phone. You will be missed.
I went and bought a new 3G. Its shiny black plastic back is already covered by a neat slick case. The screen is safe under a thick plastic protector.
This new phone hasn't yet seen any outrageous text messages or dramatic emails.
I intend to keep in this condition for a very long time...
googleability
I'm doing research on a long list of companies that are classified as "Disabled Veteran"-operated to fulfill a federal requirement Mercer has to meet to work with one of our clients.
One of said orgs is a private lawyer named Donald J Miller who lives in Sausalito. When I Googled the firm, it turned out that he shares his name with a serial killer who was recently executed in Arizona for being "Especially cruel, heinous, and depraved" in killing his friend's gf over $50 child support payments.
Everyone has a Google-search alter-ego, but this one takes the cake in suckyness.
One of said orgs is a private lawyer named Donald J Miller who lives in Sausalito. When I Googled the firm, it turned out that he shares his name with a serial killer who was recently executed in Arizona for being "Especially cruel, heinous, and depraved" in killing his friend's gf over $50 child support payments.
Everyone has a Google-search alter-ego, but this one takes the cake in suckyness.
A year ago, almost exactly, I was sitting in the classroom of the Introduction to Endocrinology class in Berkeley trying to remember which hormone was or wasn't steroid-based and could or could not cross the blood-brain barrier.
During the section of reproduction, the professor presented a slide titled "V-O-L-E spells LOVE" to illustrate that besides humans, another specie, the prarie vole, bonded for life. I still remember him saying that he wasn't sure yet, but the key to love seems to be oxytocin.
Oxytocin stimulates the same neuro-receptors in the brain as cocaine and morphine.
Love, then, is no more than an addiction to the same chemicals that brought people down and into rehab for centuries. This explains a lot of things. It explains why you hurt physically as well as mentally after a breakup, even when you were the one who initiated the split. It explains a lot about obsession. Madness accompanies any form of drug withdrawal.
"women want to belive in an illusion called love, meaning they want to belive that you're not ultimately alone after all. men however, realise that love is an illusion, making you forget for a moment that you're ultimately alone." Stephen King
Recently, several articles came out in leading newspapers about this paper:
http://www.nature.com/nature/journal/v457/n7226/full/457148a.html
Young found that if oxytocin was given to a female prarie vole, she bonded with the next available male, and that similarly, if vasopresin was administered to a male vole, he would attempt to bond in a similar way.
During the section of reproduction, the professor presented a slide titled "V-O-L-E spells LOVE" to illustrate that besides humans, another specie, the prarie vole, bonded for life. I still remember him saying that he wasn't sure yet, but the key to love seems to be oxytocin.
Oxytocin stimulates the same neuro-receptors in the brain as cocaine and morphine.
Love, then, is no more than an addiction to the same chemicals that brought people down and into rehab for centuries. This explains a lot of things. It explains why you hurt physically as well as mentally after a breakup, even when you were the one who initiated the split. It explains a lot about obsession. Madness accompanies any form of drug withdrawal.
"women want to belive in an illusion called love, meaning they want to belive that you're not ultimately alone after all. men however, realise that love is an illusion, making you forget for a moment that you're ultimately alone." Stephen King
Recently, several articles came out in leading newspapers about this paper:
http://www.nature.com/nature/journal/v457/n7226/full/457148a.html
Young found that if oxytocin was given to a female prarie vole, she bonded with the next available male, and that similarly, if vasopresin was administered to a male vole, he would attempt to bond in a similar way.
2009
Today we all woke up around 2pm - my dad and his girlfriend were asleep in the living room on our couch without any linens in their clothes. We passed out under our throws in our bedroom around 5am. After we all drank some tylenol, we cleaned up last night's dinner and proceeded with the preparation of the next feast.
Our breakfast consisted of:
Two big crabs which we boiled alive
Three Russian salads
Two ounces of black caviar with sourcream and toasts
Red caviar and crepes
A block of Foie Gras which we kept from our last visit to France
some loose-leaf black tea from london
and a bottle of Dom
I'm starting to like the way this new year is headed.
Our breakfast consisted of:
Two big crabs which we boiled alive
Three Russian salads
Two ounces of black caviar with sourcream and toasts
Red caviar and crepes
A block of Foie Gras which we kept from our last visit to France
some loose-leaf black tea from london
and a bottle of Dom
I'm starting to like the way this new year is headed.
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