flog

For the longest time, I've given instruction and information to my son on the basis of my authority. I was older, more learned, and knew things he did not, so I dictated my knowledge to him. It occurred to me yesterday, though, that he now has numerous voices authoritatively dictating to him (teachers; school friends telling him all manner of things about girls, boys, baseball, and Star Wars; his grandparents trying to indoctrinate him with Christian nonsense; the television trying to subtly brainwash him with marketing jargon) and I do him no service by being one more voice in the crowd. I need to change my style with him and begin to reason or show him how to evaluate claims.

The discussion yesterday morning was whether today was the last day in March. His claim was that the calendar at school said today was the last day in March. I told him that it was not and wanted to mount an argument for him when I realized that calendars are completely conventional. There is no argument to mount for what day it is today that isn't an argument from authority. My mind wandered and then I realized that theological discussions are the same way. There's no empirical basis for gods, saviours, or paradises, so the best you can do is mount competing "is too" and "is not" arguments.

I am continually amazed as I watch my child grow up at just how puerile adult religious belief is.

I think I may have missed my calling.

Repeated from the book list, but the quote is sufficiently cool to bear repeating.

"Once, aeons ago, the Appalachians were of a scale and majesty to rival the Himalayas....That the Appalachian Mountains present so much more modest an aspect today is because they have had so much time in which to wear away. The Appalachians are immensely old--older than the oceans and continents (at least in their present configurations), far, far older than almost all other landscape features on earth. When simple plants colonized the land and the first creatures crawled gasping from the sea, the Appalachians were there to greet them."

-- Bill Bryson, A Walk In The Woods

Come visit beowulf's content free gopher hole. You'll add a row to access.log.

Stand-up of Greg Giraldo put to music by LazyBoy:

Life is an aimless drive that you take alone.
Might as well enjoy the ride -- take the long way home.

-- "Take The Long Way Home" from Hooray For Boobies (2000)

I had forgotten about "glacial erratic" on Sunday, during our hike:

"Every foot of the landscape from here on north would be scored and scarred with reminders of glaciation--scattered boulders called erratics, drumlins, eskers, high tarns, cirques. I was entering a new world."

-- A Walk in the Woods, Bill Bryson, p 196

"Reagan Democrats are big fans of John McCain, and the conservative money boys from Wall Street love that Mitt Romney character. Romney went so far as to appropriate Reagan's bulletproof hair, undoubtedly garnering the Secret Service's endorsement due to the added protection his hard candy shell would provide in the unlikely event he adopts a single position long enough to get a bead on."

My love affair extends exactly to this song [lyrics].

"The reduction in atenolol clearance follows the general trend that the elimination of renally excreted drugs is decreased with increasing age."

THE GAME

Applachian Trail places you in the boots of a hiker whose goal is to walk the entire length of the 2000-mile Trail from Springer Mountain, Georgia, to Mt. Katahdin, Maine. Your journey begins in April as soon as the southern part of the Trail is clear of snow, and you must reach the northern terminus before the early snowfalls block the Presidential Mountain Range in New Hampshire.

Mirrored code for the game.

I attended my grandmother's funeral last week. Of course, there was a pastor who spoke at the service. My mother and uncle were both impressed with the effort he put forth in getting to know something about my grandmother so he could speak about her in a personal manner. He hit all the standard points (Genesis 2:17; John 3:16-17; John 11), trying very hard to get us to ignore the corpse lying there in the room with us. I couldn't help feeling sorry for the pastor (maybe because my heart was softened by grief and I wasn't in the mood to be critical or maybe because he seemed like a genuinely nice person in spite of his religious belief) because every last person in the room knew in their hearts his words weren't true. You don't weep for a friend whose temporarily gone away on a wonderful journey that you're going to see again in a little while.

I found this by doing a search for the imaginary breakfast time treat, Cracker Smacks:

Radiohead's, "A Wolf At The Door "
The Funny Lyrics:
flip the lid out pops the cracker
smacks you in the head
knifes you in the neck kicks you in the teeth
steel toe caps
takes all your credit cards get up get the gunge get the eggs
get the flan in the face
Why They're funny:
uhh... its just random. consitering the name of the song is called 'a wolf at the door '. but you know how radiohead is. nothing really makes sence.
Submitted by: KyotePrintz

Is it KyotePrintz or radiohead that does not make sence?

Getting flick rolled is infinitely more humorous than the imaginary internet phenomenon of "rick rolling".

I came across this incredible unsinkable boat, by way of the Museum of Hoaxes blog.