15.Dec.2004
Better Living Through Chemistry
The above photo shows what remains of the building that burned near my apartment. The entire top floor is gone; what didn't burn away was removed later by demolition workers. The siding is vinyl, or Polyvinyl Chloride (PVC). The pink stuff is extruded polystyrene, and under that is a layer of asphalt shingles with fake red brick styling. The original clapboard siding is visible in a few places. All of that stuff burned for several hours, sending clouds of thick, black, toxic smoke down the street. I got a good whiff when I threw up the sash to see what was the matter, and probably took a few years off my life. Burning PVC releases some pretty nasty stuff, including hydrogen chloride and dioxins. Burning polystyrene isn't quite as bad, but I wouldn't start smoking it in your pipe if I were you.
It's yet more evidence of a mad society that we sheathe our people containers with such crap. Now, I'm not saying that the fire would have been less severe if it had occurred 70 years ago when the building was only wood-clad. But the residents of this building were lucky to escape before they were overcome with blinding, poisonous smoke. Of course, they would have surely burned to death 70 years ago, before the advent of smoke detectors. Then again, people 70 years ago were much too smart to throw a cigarette into a trash bin.
I am off to the big city next week: I have my train ticket and I'm going to stay with my sister in Brooklyn for a few days. I have not spent much time in New York City, so I'm excited to have a chance to check it out.
It is my distinct pleasure to unveil my latest project, Program to Obliterate Outrageous Packaging (POOP). Tell your friends.
01.Dec.2004
Anniversaires
Today is my sister's 35th birthday—Happy Birthday, Jenn. Her birthday is handy because it reminds me that mine, 3 days later, is coming up. This day also marks the beginning of my fourth year outside of corporate America.
The Most Annoying Time of the Year
Somewhere in town (I haven't identified the source yet) someone is pumping very loud Christmas carols all freaking day. This started a few days ago, and I can only assume, horribly, that it will continue for the next few weeks. It gets louder and softer depending on the wind, and it sounds kind of like Perry Como is singing under water. It's time for the New Bomb Turks to kick Como's ass out the window. Ahh, that's better.
Photography
I hung four of my photos in the Two Cows Coffee and Farm Market this weekend. It's right next door to me. Their web site will be coming soon, possibly with my help.
I am dragging my feet when it comes to posting black and white photos from this summer. Last summer too, I guess. Here are some teasers. From the 2004 Natural Building Colloquium—East: Sarah Highland leading a timber raising, placement of a beam, placement of a ridge beam, Chris Fox contemplates, Japanese Tori raising crew. From the Mandelbaum/Kahn straw-bale house (post-housewarming party): Sandinista doll in the niche I made, exterior view from the south, interior south wall, truth window, sliding door corner detail.
22.Nov.2004
Seriously Delicious
Oh for Christ's sake. Fortunately for those of us who sometimes take life too seriously, there are kittens—lots of them. By the way, del.icio.us is a great source for random and fresh web content, and it can also be useful.
A Little Green Rosetta
I had Frank Zappa's voice stuck in my head yesterday morning. Specifically, it was him as the Central Scrutinizer from the 1979 story/album "Joe's Garage." Luckily I have that album with me, so I was able to listen to the last three songs and exorcise Mr. Zappa from my brain. One of my favorite lyrical passages is spoken by the character Mary in the song "Packard Goose":
Information is not knowledge
Knowledge is not wisdom
Wisdom is not truth
Truth is not beauty
Beauty is not love
Love is not music
Music is the best…
Wisdom is the domain of the Wis (which is extinct)
Beauty is a French phonetic corruption
Of a short cloth neck ornament
Currently in resurgence…
20.Nov.2004
Shirt-fu
Holy crap. If you don't agree that this is the coolest thing you have ever seen I will come to your house and beat you up. I tried it for myself and got it the first time!
Holy Smoke
The fire station is right around the corner from my apartment. Sometimes there is a call in the middle of the night, and I am briefly stirred from sleep as the trucks go speeding by. About 3 o'clock yesterday morning, however, the sirens and diesels woke me up and didn't go away; they screeched around the corner and then seemingly parked under my window. This is what I saw when I poked my head out:
According to the news, someone in the building emptied an ashtray into a waste basket. I don't think I need to say anything else about that. (Well, I'll say one thing: I don't even like to put spent matches in the trash, even after I've soaked them in the sink.) Once I determined that the fire was far enough down the block to not be a threat to my building, I went back to a fitful sleep. I looked out the window every hour or so, and at times I saw flames shooting out towards the street. I wondered why the situation seemed to be getting worse with time. I also wondered what was in the smoke that was drifting into my apartment when I opened the window.
11.Nov.2004
Veterans' Day
The gunfire outside my window (a 21-gun salute, that is) reminded me that today is Veterans' Day. This seems like as good an occasion as any to link to Operation Truth and Any Soldier.
So John Ashcroft is tired. Well, I'm tired of him. From his resignation letter: "I take great personal satisfaction in the record which endeveloped. The objective of securing the safety of Americans from crime and terror has been achieved." Really? For once, I hope he is not proven wrong.
Not completely unrelated, here is a quote from Susan B. Anthony: "I distrust those people who know so well what God wants them to do, because I notice it always coincides with their own desires." Right on, sister.
I'm off to Vermont tomorrow to visit friends, then I'll detour to my home town to see my folks, get my car's timing belt changed, and retrieve some essential gear.
09.Nov.2004
Only 207 weeks 'til the next time
Warning: some links in this post-election update lead to pages with high occurrences of the f-word and other naughty language. Those of you with delicate sensibilities might want to close your eyes while you read.
I was pretty bummed out last Wednesday, along with slightly less than half of the country (not counting those whose voices weren't counted due to intimidation, computer glitches, or downright fraud). It wasn't so much that Kerry lost, or even that he conceded not long after Edwards claimed that every vote would be counted (flip-flopper, indeed). It was the overwhelming socially rightward (read "meaner") tilt that the electorate, and therefore the government, seemed to be adopting. Cripes, in my congressional district an attractive, 27 year old Democratic woman lost to the Republican candidate who apparently at one time pulled not one, but two shotguns on his now ex-wife.
Doom and, to a greater extent, gloom were on my mind when I heard the news that Kerry conceded. Thoughts of war everlasting, more Orwellian bullshit like "Clear Skies" and "Healthy Forests", and a continuing slide towards the world depicted in Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale were hard to shake.
However, the spin machine soon went into overdrive to explain how the "security mom vote" was outdone by the ya-hoo redneck vote. For example, Todd S. Purdum wrote in the New York Times November 4:
It was not a landslide, or a re-alignment, or even a seismic shock. But it was decisive, and it is impossible to read President Bush's re-election with larger Republican majorities in both houses of Congress as anything other than the clearest confirmation yet that this is a center-right country—divided yes, but with an undisputed majority united behind his leadership.
Surveys of voters leaving the polls found that a majority believed the national economy was not so good, that tax cuts had done nothing to help it and that the war in Iraq had jeopardized national security. But fully one-fifth of voters said they cared most about "moral values"—as many as cared about terrorism and the economy—and 8 in 10 of them chose Mr. Bush. [emphasis added]
It was time for spitting, foamy, indignant rage to be directed at the dim bulbs who were once again tricked into voting against their own interests.
But that was too easy. The press jumping on the revelation of the "values vote" to explain how this administration—which has bungled, lied, and doubletalked its way through the last four years—could have won the election was a little too tidy for me. Stories about irregularities at the polls (to put it mildly) went under the radar for a while as Bush crowed about his new mandate. (Mandate my ass: if "8 in 10" of the "one-fifth" of voters chose Bush for "moral values", that's 16%. Oh, and 51% is a pretty underwhelming figure, too. Not even a D minus. Much like the rest of his life, he's just doing enough to get by.)
Yes, the GOP did execute an effective GOTV campaign among Christian Conservatives. But at the risk of sounding like a conspiracy theorist, I think there is more to the widespread stories of voter intimidation in black (heavily Democratic) districts, dubious electronic voting machines, dirty tricks, and overloaded, incompetent and/or corrupt election officials than the mainstream media are reporting.
Simply saying that I wouldn't put it past 'em to steal the election certainly isn't a sound argument, but for now it's all I have.
06.Nov.2004
Housecleaning
I've been putting off my comments about the election by doing some housecleaning around here at Deathbike. Today I'm off to Syracuse for a beer tasting party at Noah and Jessica's. But first I'm going for a walk in the sun, and I still have to stop by the brewery to fill my growler.
I promise that when I come back I'll have something meaningful to write. For now I'll say that I consider this a stolen election, at least in some form. It may never be proven, but it will never be disproved.
31.Oct.2004
Despite the fact that New York is not a swing state, and that apparently my personal vote won't matter much in the presidential race, I am excited about Tuesday. I can't even stand reading the news anymore—I just want to get this done.
It's a struggle for me to come around to decide to vote for Kerry. The words of my former Green Party cohort Tim Kreider way back in March 2004 are wearing on me:
The only hope for 2004 is that the outrage and the travesty that is George W. Bush will finally force us liberals to vote the way conservatives always have—in monolithic, mindless, obedient lockstep, straight down the party line.
Last time around, I got to be an idealist. I wouldn't have voted—or become interested in politics at all—if it weren't for Nader's 2000 campaign. I still think of Ralph as a hero, despite his inexplicable tactics these days. I still agree with almost everything he stands for. This time, though, ousting Bush should come at any cost, even if it means voting for someone you don't like. I don't like Kerry, but I suppose I'd rather vote for the guy who's inextricably linked to a condiment dynasty than the guy who's in bed with the Saudi Royal Family. It will be difficult to resist the urge to write in David Cobb. In fact, I may not be able to resist. It's going to be a last minute decision for me.
Those conservatives among you who might vote for Bush, please don't. I'm not suggesting you should vote for Kerry (the liberalest liberal Frenchy flip-flopper from the land of liberals), just don't vote for Bush. Please. Step back from all the partisan hackery and really think about your own values and those of this president. Does he really represent you? Maybe you should vote for Nader. Heck, vote for the Libertarian guy. Those poor bastards never do well. Just don't vote for Bush.
I'm happy to have moved to a congressional district that has a close race to replace Rep. Amo Houghton, who is retiring. I get to vote for Samara Barend, the 27 year old contender against John "Randy" Kuhl, who seems to be having a little trouble with some leaked divorce papers.
I'm voting for Green Party candidate David McReynolds for Senate, rather than that jerk Chuck Schumer. You have to draw the line somewhere.
No matter what, even if you're undecided right up to the last minute, go vote! Vote for a third party, vote for your local offices, I don't care. The low voter turnout in this country is disgraceful. Do something about it.
In other news, I now have some of my essentials from the storage unit in Maryland: comfy chair, big pasta pot, little table, rowing machine, lamps, and compact fluorescent bulbs. I've been noodling about with web design, which you can see in Fun with Boxes and Minimalism.
Update: Based on the latest poll numbers in New York and the widespread, ham-fisted vote suppression campaign being perpetrated by the GOP, I'm not convinced that there's enough "safe state" wiggle room for me to be comfortable. I'm voting for Kerry, but I'm doing it on the Working Families line. I hate to be acting out of fear, but Bush must lose decisively.
17.Oct.2004
There is a nice collection of election-related videos here. It requires a Quicktime plug-in, and a fast connection helps, too. I must say I'm quite spoiled by the cable modem.
My favorites are Jon Stewart calling Tucker Carlson a "dick" on CNN's Crossfire, Rep. Tim Ryan (D-Ohio) tearing it up on the House floor, a mother getting serious at the park, and Dick Cheney's pants bursting into flames.
I was surprised this morning to hear mention of my home town on NPR. It was a story about the Jamaican apple pickers anticipating their return home to clean up after hurricane Ivan. There was even a clip from inside the church I went to as a kid. Itinerant workers from Jamaica have been coming to the Champlain valley every fall for as long as I can remember. I think this is the first time that my town has been on NPR, but I could be wrong.
Coming Soon (maybe): A new essay about the inner conflict between my dependence on technology and my tendency towards Luddism. For example, how do I listen to crazy, loud rock and roll if I want to live in a house with no electricity? This essay is in a very nebulous conceptual phase right now, so your thoughts are welcome.
Here is a hilarious but frightening excerpt from Ron Suskind's article in today's New York Times Magazine.
"I don't know why you're talking about Sweden," Bush said. "They're the neutral one. They don't have an army."
Lantos paused, a little shocked, and offered a gentlemanly reply: "Mr. President, you may have thought that I said Switzerland. They're the ones that are historically neutral, without an army." Then Lantos mentioned, in a gracious aside, that the Swiss do have a tough national guard to protect the country in the event of invasion.
Bush held to his view. "No, no, it's Sweden that has no army."
The room went silent, until someone changed the subject.
Oh, dear. I think it's frightening not so much because it demonstrates (further) Bush's ignorance, but because everyone "went silent," with no one stepping up to say, "No sir, it is Switzerland. Would you like me to look it up for you?" At least Bush didn't say, "Duh, have you ever heard of a Swedish Army Knife?"
[Update 09.Jan.2006: It has been pointed out to me that Sweden and Switzerland both have similar, conscription-based militaries. Both nations are also neutral. Therefore, while Sweden does in fact have an army, what Bush said is not completely ridiculous (only slightly). And, what Lantos said isn't any more correct, except that, as far as I can tell, Sweden's military mission is more involved in peacekeeping (which is the context of this story) than the Swiss.]
13.Oct.2004
Am I nit-picking? From tonight's debate:
KERRY: … Six months after he said Osama bin Laden must be caught dead or alive, this president was asked, "Where is Osama bin Laden?"
He said, "I don't know. I don't really think about him very much. I'm not that concerned."
We need a president who stays deadly focused on the real war on terror.
SCHIEFFER: Mr. President?
BUSH: Gosh, I just don't think I ever said I'm not worried about Osama bin Laden. It's kind of one of those exaggerations.
And from the Washington Post on April 17, 2002:
The Bush administration has concluded that Osama bin Laden was present during the battle for Tora Bora late last year and that failure to commit U.S. ground troops to hunt him was its gravest error in the war against al Qaeda, according to civilian and military officials with first-hand knowledge.
[ … ]
"Terror is bigger than one person," Bush said March 14. "He's a person that's now been marginalized." The president said bin Laden had "met his match" and "may even be dead," and added: "I truly am not that concerned about him."
11.Oct.2004
The locked doors at the post orifice reminded me that today is Columbus Day. This explains the lack of activity on Main Street. (This post is a record three days after the last one, so you may have missed it if you're used to my normal frequency.)
So, in honor of Christopher Columbus I will quote his captain's log:
They brought us parrots and balls of cotton and spears and many other things, which they exchanged for the glass beads and hawks' bells. They willingly traded everything they owned. They do not bear arms, and do not know them, for I showed them a sword, they took it by the edge and cut themselves out of ignorance. With fifty men we could subjugate them all and make them do whatever we want.
Way to go, Chris! I first read this excerpt in A People's History of the United States by Howard Zinn. You should know that Howard Zinn is an America-hating commie pinko.
I got my new computer today. Varoom!
08.Oct.2004
Pain is weird.
Pain that comes in the form of soreness can be kind of nice. It's a reminder of recent activities; it's like your body's way of saying, "Hey, remember that great bike ride yesterday?" or "Boy, we sure worked hard today, but it was a job well done." Soreness is a badge of accomplishment. And you know it will go away soon.
Sharp, nervy, inexplicable pain, though not necessarily more intense than soreness, is mean and scary. It's a warning. Rather than serving as a reminder of the past, it casts doubt on the future. Will it go away? Will I be able to kayak/bike/play the violin again, doc?
After a few too many visits to the chiropractor without eliminating my back pain, I decided to cut him off. I went to a massage therapist two days ago and again today, and I already feel much better. I wish I had gone to her in the first place. I was sore after the first visit, but the crazy nerve shenanigans were gone. I can deal with soreness. Today I feel better than I have in months.
A few weeks ago I received an email from a Mr. Ted Wright, owner of the sticker business that I wrote about last spring. Mr. Wright wrote:
My name is Ted Wright. I am the guy that you wrote the letter to the press about back in Feb. I would like you to be aware that the figure depicted in my stickers was not calvin, but a mildly similar figure. Different enough to void any claims one might have of copyright violation. Do a little research before you go and shoot off at the mouth.
You are obviously some loser with a little too much time on your hands.
Thank you,
Ted Wright
CEO
Wright Group International
Unfortunately, the email address he included bounced when I tried to respond. I found another address on his company website and sent my response there, but I have not heard back from him. This is what I sent:
Gosh, Ted, you're right. I should have visited your stand in the mall to see the stickers for myself, rather than relying on the photo in the newspaper. I am sorry I wrote that letter without checking the facts; you certainly have the right to sell non-copyrighted artwork. I broke a major rule of journalism (not that I'm a journalist) by not investigating the situation first hand.
That said, your claim that I am a loser is neither obvious nor true, and I think it is rather unbefitting of a CEO, no matter the size of the company, to say so. You may be right about the amount of time on my hands, though.
I will disregard the tone of your email and retract my original accusation the next time I post to my site.
Jason Perry
So there it is. Don't say I can't be diplomatic. However, I will not take back my statement that the people who buy peeing Calvin stickers ("mildly similar" to Calvin, that is) are morons. They are. It's Ted's right to sell them, it's the morons' right to buy them, and it's my right to call the morons morons. Glad we got that straightened out.
Tonight I look forward to listening to the debate over internet radio. No doubt it will be hard work deciphering Bush's mumbling, fractured rhetoric, but listening to him flounder when he's out there on his own is precisely why I tune in to begin with.
09.Sep.2004
It's been raining quite a bit lately, so the falls (Honeoye Falls, that is) are raging across the street from my new apartment. The white noise of the rushing water is soothing at night, once the traffic noise dies down. I've slept here two nights so far: the first was a restless one on my cot, the second was much better on my new futon mattress. Most of my stuff—including my nice mattress—is still in storage in Maryland, where it has until now sat unmissed since March 2002. Now I miss it as I contemplate the cost and effort of bringing it all up here.
My back is better but still troublesome, so I have an appointment with a chiropractor in the morning. I need to get this thing taken care of before I can do much of anything else—it is affecting my outlook, my confidence, and my income. It's the first time I've ever had a serious back problem, and as my mom pointed out recently it's the first time as an adult that I've truly felt vulnerable and helpless. That, compounded with running headlong into the reality of being self-employed with bills to pay, has made for a rather glum few weeks.
I had it so easy before! Sit at a computer most of the day, go out in the shop and build something, attend some meetings, and get a big, fat paycheck every two weeks. But in recent days, when I've been thinking that I was crazy to ever leave the corporate world, I visualize myself back in a straight engineering job and realize how bored I'd be there. Just another cog. Right now I may be poor and a little freaked out, but my life is certainly not boring.
So this is my situation, and second-guessing it is pointless. The worst that could happen is I have to pack away the stuff I do have with me, sell my car, and move to Chile to live with Eric. At least for now I have my own place, which isn't a tent, and I can walk around in my underwear whenever I want. I do miss peeing outside, though.
15.Aug.2004
My name is Jason, and it has been two months since my last update. Where do I begin? The present scene is this: I am sitting on a comfy couch in the straw-bale house that I built last year; it is the day after the official house-warming party. It is difficult to describe the feeling of being in a place that you spent 6 months building from the mud up. All of the hard work paid off — the house is a gem.
I am recovering from a pinched nerve in my back that resulted from working very hard almost nonstop from late May until about a week and a half ago. I worked through the pain for three weeks until some very wise people enlightened me to the fact that it wouldn't get better unless I stopped. I should have thought of that on my own. I had to pass up an opportunity to do some (paid!) straw-bale work in Ohio, but that freed me to come to this party and chill for a couple of days in a very comfortable place.
Tomorrow I will leave for Honeoye Falls (south of Rochester, NY) to continue the process of settling there. I will be working with Mary Golden and her partner, Hartmut Deeg. I will continue developing my own business while integrating into theirs. If that sounds vague, it's because it is. I am very, very excited about our future together.
Putting the last two months into words and pictures is a project too large for me to handle right now. Please be patient: it will get done eventually.
13.Jun.2004
I'm still here working on this.
I've been working hard, eating well, and being good. I got sick last week, and I'm still not 100% healthy, but there's no shortage of homeopathic medicine and caring people here. Now that we have more interns and helpers I won't be working myself sick from now on.
The red arrow shows where my tent is, and this is the view from there in the morning. My new friend Eric is really good with the chainsaw. He and I used black locust logs to make the posts for the guest cabin, which will eventually have straw-bale and light clay (straw/clay mix) walls. More recently, over at the round ceremonial building, we set the eight piers that will support the roof structure. Trigonometry and basic layout techniques helped us get the piers within an inch of the plan dimensions, which wasn't easy in the mud.
Now here's some luna moth porn.
24.May.2004
In 2 days I will leave to go here to work on this. I will be busy there until early July and, due to severely restricted internet access, I do not count on being able to do updates or email in any regular fashion, if at all. So, send me a postcard.
In the meantime, you might enjoy some of my recent favorites, McSweeney's and Low Culture. As always, you can find the shocking answer to the burning question, "when will the pain end?" in the comic The Pain...When Will it End? by my friend Tim.
Finally, I received a rather vulgar comment from a reader, presumably in response to this entry, which began, "sure bring back the asshole clinton and all will be well..." and ended, "shit i moving to aruba...." I don't want to get into the habit of taunting readers, so I will simply be encouraging: sir, you can do better than spouting off about Clinton whenever someone criticizes a Republican. I have faith in you to not only develop cohesive and timely arguments but to also make use of capital letters to begin your sentences. And, for the record, I think both the Clintons are slimy, devious (but incredibly smart) weasels, so insulting them gets nowhere with me.
13.May.2004
Just hearing the description of what happened to Nicholas Berg made me feel ill; it was a different sensation than what I felt when I saw the photos from Abu Ghraib. In the latter case I felt generally numb; I was angered not so much by the abuse itself but because it was allowed to happen, and because of the inevitable consequences of its publicity. (In the case of the rape of a female Iraqi prisoner by a US soldier, the outrage was instantaneous and real, as it always is when I hear of such things.)
When I heard about Mr. Berg's beheading, several things went through my head at once. One was an immediate empathy for the horror he must have felt in his last few seconds. Another was the question of whether the people who leaked the Abu Ghraib story felt remorse for having done so. I quickly realized that even if nothing had happened at Abu Ghraib, the terrorists who killed Mr. Berg probably would have done so anyway, proclaiming some other reason for doing it.
Both of these situations have understandably led me to think very hard about my own feelings on this war (this war being Operation Iraqi Freedom, which in my view is quite different from the War On Terror). I've had a hard time coming down firmly on either side of the issue: I've been generally against it, but I haven't been to any peace rallies either. I could have been convinced to support an overthrow of Saddam just to overthrow him (no need for made-up reasons) if we had successfully executed our mission in Afghanistan. You know, Afghanistan? Yeah, if we had routed out the Taliban for good, helped the farmers develop better crops than opium, organized an international rebuilding of their infrastructure, and fostered a stable, representative government, then Maybe I'd have believed we could pull off this Iraq thing. And you know what? I bet a lot of other people in the world would have, too.
The prison abuse situation and the death of Mr. Berg are both symptoms of the terrible planning that went into this endeavor. Usually when you take on a large project you—after making sure your previous project is finished, of course—do research, ask experts, draw up plans, set priorities and goals, define success (i.e. when do you get to say "mission accomplished"?), and estimate and allocate resources. Over-allocate if in doubt and if possible, especially if billions of dollars and thousands of lives are at stake. Research? The Bush administration didn't even look at the history of the Vietnam war to learn that not researching and understanding the history of the country you want to invade will cause all sorts of problems. Experts? We know from Bob Woodward's book that Bush didn't even ask his father about invading Iraq. And Rumsfeld booted anybody who tried to tell him that an invasion might be harder than he thought. And where was Stormin' Norman?
It's pretty clear that the war planners didn't do the other stuff on the list very well, either. If they had, the reconstruction would be further along (and Maybe more Iraqis would be employed), more countries would be involved, Iraqis might already be in control of their own government, more oil, water, food, electricity, and good will would be flowing, and there would be less opportunity and desire on the part of the insurgents—be they Iraqis or foreign fighters—to be blowing people up, kidnapping, beheading. There would be little need to torture people for information, or have them in prison at all.
It's easy for me to sit over here and speculate. I am quite sure about my planning argument, but who knows if any scenario could have turned out well in Iraq. It's rare that anything turns out well in Iraq. Yesterday I was working outside in the hot sun (70°+ !) when I realized that what I was experiencing must be nothing compared to wearing body armor and a 70-pound pack in the desert.
05.May.2004
You May be sick of hearing reports from Abu Ghraib prison, but allow me to deviate from my tendency to avoid profanity in this space and say, what the fuck were these assholes thinking? The soldiers in the photos sure don't look like people who have serious doubts about what they're doing.
Well, it's not all bad news: I learned recently that a friend from high school, now Captain George Rodriguez, is the commander of the unit that picked up Thomas Hamill, the truck driver who was kidnapped in Iraq. George was on the track team with me, and he was a great runner. A real stand-up guy, he's been in the reserves since he was a senior. Which meant that he was allowed to get beer on the air base even though he was 18, as he bloody well deserved to.
I sent a care package to a Marine I don't know in Afghanistan through www.Anysoldier.us. Soldiers volunteer to accept packages (you can't send something to "Any Soldier, Iraq") and distribute them to others who don't get much—or any—mail from home. No matter what you think of the crap the government is shoveling, you have to keep in mind the people who are carrying the load. Along with the baby wipes ("they're like gold") and other items we take for granted, I sent some good coffee and a mix CD of some great obscure American songs—none of that Lee Greenwood pap, but stuff by Alejandro Escovedo, Warren Zevon, The Meat Purveyors, Cracker.
My friend Noah made a good point: if baby wipes are so sought after by the soldiers, why doesn't the DOD provide them? I suppose it's not something anyone really needs—after all, you can't die from being funky. On the other hand, they gave the soldiers cigarettes in WWII, and drugs in Vietnam.
I got sick again last week, this time in the tummy. Now I'm addicted to ginger ale after many years on the wagon. I did manage to get to Rob Roy's place to see some big stones.
Oh, and I finished my first foot hammock.
Too bad about Bob Edwards' forced retirement, eh?
22.Apr.2004
I just returned from a long drive across the state of New York. I've decided to make a conscious effort to be one of those people who waves to oncoming drivers on the back roads. I noticed a few people giving me a wave on Route 8—not a big wave, but the casual palm-on-the-wheel hand lift—and it gave me a nice feeling inside. No judgement, no bumper sticker diplomacy, just a simple acknowledgement of another human being. Even lifting your index finger can lift someone's mood, I think. Yeah, I can do this.
I've been lending an ear to the new "liberal radio network" Air America, which began broadcasting in my area last week. Sadly, though it is generally entertaining—and who doesn't like to hear aggreeable points of view all day—I find that it often sounds like no more than Bizarro Rush LimbAugh. Chuck D, oddly enough, acts as a voice of reason.
To go with my new photos, here is a passage from "An Age of Barns" by Eric Sloane.
When costly structures built less than fifty years ago have become obsolete and are being torn down, it is amazing and significant that a simple barn in the country, even in a state of ruin, can continue to benefit and enrich its surroundings after two centuries. And when that barn is threatened by a new housing development, it is usually the old barn that seems attractive, while the new buildings look grotesque—until, of course, the old barn is removed and we can become accustomed to the sameness of mediocre design.
Happy Earth Day everyone.
09.Apr.2004
I think this comparison has been made before, but doesn't John Ashcroft remind you of Sam the Bald Eagle from the Muppet Show?
Anyway, I watched the beginning of Condi's testimony on C-SPAN yesterday, then listened to the rest on the radio while I worked. During her opening statement I noticed right away—thanks to my Toastmasters public speaking experiences—that she was not breathing deeply or frequently enough and she was talking way too fast, causing her voice to quiver. In other words, she was nervous as hell. As well she should have been, given that she was on watch during our country's biggest national security disaster. Oh, and Maybe also because her testimony was rife with inconsistencies.
I had to snicker when 9/11 Commission vice-chair Lee Hamilton said in his opening statement, "We want to be thorough this morning, and as you will see in a few minutes, the commissioners will show that they have mastered their briefs."
Stay tuned to this spot in the coming weeks for new black and white photos of this cool old barn. Also, wait and see what this thing turns out to be here.
27.Mar.2004
It's the time of year when every American briefly turns into a Libertarian, including me. I just finished my taxes — once again I did them by hand because I enjoy puzzles — and filed as Self-Employed for the first time, which means that I take the full brunt of the Payroll Tax instead of having an employer cover part of it for me. It was utterly infuriating to have figured out how much I have to pay into Social Security and Medicare just as the reports were published proclaiming that both programs will be broke soon. Honestly, I am in favor of the concept of taxes (everyone pooling some money together for the common good) and I don't even really have an issue with the amount of money I owe. What chaps my ass is the endless, byzantine paperwork that you've got to navigate, combined with the knowledge that a lot of the money is being misused or wasted by people who no longer know — or never knew — the value of a dollar.
[Full disclosure: I probably wouldn't have time to sit here and complain about legislators not knowing the value of a dollar if my parents weren't allowing me to freeload off them for the winter. I also don't have any dependents or debt, and I could probably go out and find an engineering job again without too much trouble if I really had to.]
Speaking of Libertarians, the what-iffery of the recent public hearings held by the 9/11 Commission got me wondering what the world would be like if Libertarians had been in charge for the last decade or so. Would the Free Market prevent terrorism? Libertarians, who I tend to agree with on some issues, fascinate me with their faith in the Free Market and, in a larger sense, human beings' ability to be honest and ethical without laws. I'm not trying to put Libertarians down, I'm just trying to seek understanding.
I watched "School of Rock" with my parents the other night, which is good because they don't get enough rock. It's the second time I saw the movie, which I liked a lot despite its juvenile aura. It rekindled my appreciation for the classics, and after this viewing I went and dug out "High Voltage," AC/DC's first album released outside of Australia in 1976 (I was four!). The first track, "It's a Long Way to the Top (If You Want to Rock 'n' Roll)" is covered by the film cast at the end of the movie. The original version is quite possibly one of the greatest rock songs ever, and qualifies as one of the few songs that makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck ("Death or Glory" by the Clash and "Won't Get Fooled Again" by the Who are some others). As far as I know it's also the first rock song to incorporate bagpipes, which can make any song great. I won't defend AC/DC's eventual descent into formulaic mediocrity, but I challenge anyone to propose a song released in the last ten years that isn't reduced to flaming poop when pitted against this masterpiece.
20.Mar.2004
I dislike shopping malls for many reasons, but mostly because these days I find the noise and lights and shiny surfaces overwhelming. Nonetheless, I needed to go to Sears yesterday. After I made my transaction, I felt irresistably drawn to the neighboring Borders. It's easy to go into Borders because it is 99% likely that I won't buy anything there, and I know it going in (it's what people in therapy for Obsessive Compulsive Hoarding Disorder call a "drive-by"). I checked the latest "The Right Wing Lies and Kicks Puppies, Too" (they do, you know) and "The Liberal Media Eat Their Young Alive" hardcovers, then swung through the periodical racks to leaf through Adbusters, gawk at the muscle mag covers, and eye the ever-expanding selection of photography magazines.
Then I did something I rarely do: I went into the music section. In the past I almost never bothered because I know the CDs are way overpriced in the big stores, and I'd rather get 'em from an independent. But I haven't been in any sort of music store in a long time, so I thought I'd see if there's a new Bad Religion album and whatnot. What did I find? They have little stations with headphones every 10 feet so you can scan the bar code of any one of their CDs and listen to the first 30 seconds of every song! (I know many of you already know about this wonder of wonders, but as you know I've been out of the loop for a while.)
The first CD I picked up was a recent one by Anthrax. It \m/ rocked \m/, but not much has changed since the last album I bought of theirs in the late 90's. I couldn't find any Bad Religion, nor any Circle Jerks. Hmph. Ahhh, but The Donnas! Their latest, The Donnas Spend the Night, was slick and loud and crunchy. More great rock 'n roll about sex and drugs (though now that they're in their 20's it's not as shocking as when they were in high school).
Hunger, thirst and standing fatigue drove me away before I could get out of the D's. I couldn't help but wonder, though, if this listening service helps or hurts their sales. On one hand, people who are willing to browse around and listen will be more inclined to buy something that they might not have taken a chance on otherwise. On the other hand, given the tendency of the pop music industry to release albums of crap supported by one or two "hits," people who run out to buy a CD by a band they saw on MTV might find out that they suck before it's too late.
15.Mar.2004
The Happy Fun Survey sure is fun, eh? EH? I thought so. Just as I was marvelling at my demographic's heavy proportion of males requesting "more naked chicks" I got a response from a female claiming to be wearing nothing. Yowza. Of course herein lies the Yin and Yang of the Web: my immediate excitement melted with the realization that this Siren could easily be a longshoreman named Victor (pronounced vic-tuh)—who likes ketchup, but not habañeros or horseradish. OK, OK, I need to get out more.
Today marks the 7th day of my annual Get A Sore Throat and then Feel Like Shit For Several Days episode. I feel OK now, but not 100%. I spent the last week on the couch either sleeping, reading, or watching TV, and it's proving difficult to overcome the inertia. I must confess that I, Jason the self-righteous anti-TV guy, watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer reruns and really liked it. I can't explain why. The bright side is that this addiction should be easy to fight as my health and the weather both improve. Luckily my parents only have limited cable programming or you might never see me again.
Why is it that whenever I get sick the symptoms are always the same? I'm a pretty smart guy, but I can't figure out whether I keep encountering the same virus every year, or if there is some organism always present in my body that takes over when my immune system is weakened? Last winter I got it twice in a month, which is really hard to explain. Visiting a dOctor has proved pointless in the past. Anyway, as illnesses go it's not such a bad one: no gastro-intestinal shenanigans, no fever, no itchy sores, not much phlegm, just an all-consuming feeling of uselessness as I go to bed after a long day of lying around.
02.Mar.2004
I read The Da Vinci Code recently and barely put it down during the day and a half that it took me to read it. The dust jacket has a variety of codes built into it (part of a promotional contest) and one of them reads, "Is there no hope for the widow's son?" It turns out that this is a reference to an old coded greeting used by the Freemasons, a group that figures into the plot of the book. (Google the phrase for various explanations.)
Since then I've begun re-reading Tolkien's The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings for the nth time (though this time I have to force the movie images from my mind as I read, something that I worried about when I went to see the movies). In the first chapter of The Hobbit, when Gandalf comes to visit Bilbo after many years away, Bilbo says, "Gandalf, Gandalf! Good gracious me! ... Not the fellow who used to tell such wonderful tales at parties, about dragons and goblins and giants and the rescue of princesses and the unexpected luck of widows' sons? …" This discovery led me on a search that resulted in more neat references.
And now for a few words on Ralph Nader. I, for one, am glad he's running. I May not vote for him, but since the prospects don't seem high for Dean or Kucinich to be the Democratic nominee, I would sooner vote for Nader than for Kerry (the Anyone But Bush mission notwithstanding). Why must the Democrats always latch on to such bland, empty figureheads? This is not a question that I will attempt to answer here, but I will say that at least Nader will be a thorn in Kerry's ass, forcing him to either step up and address the issues that Nader raises or lose votes from people like me. Honestly, I wouldn't have voted at all in 2000 if it weren't for Ralph Nader; indeed, it was his 2000 campaign that shook me from my political disillusionment to begin with. "If you're not turned on to politics," he said, "politics will turn on you." I think it's telling that he's getting more press now that he's no more than an egotistical spoiler than he did in 2000 when he was a viable candidate with a party and good amount of grassroots support. He's probably not much of a threat now that his support has diminished, yet the indignant reaction of the Democrats shows how spineless they really are: rather than trying to win over the voters who might go with Nader by oh, I don't know, working to oust the monied interests' dominance over our government or something, they choose to whine about how it's not fair for him to run because he might make them lose. I suggest that Kerry render Nader's campaign irrelevant by co-opting and then following through on his entire platform, inspiring millions of non-voters to get off their couches to vote and Maybe even run for office themselves. That'll teach Ralph to exercise his right to run for president.
18.Feb.2004
I hate "peeing Calvin" stickers, but rather than beating a dead horse by talking about the morons who buy them, I'll let this guy and this girl do it. Why bring it up at all? Well, the local paper recently ran an article about a controversy involving a vendor at the mall who sells stickers of Calvin peeing on the names of area schools.
I wrote a letter to the editor in response to the article, and it was published yesterday. Here it is:
I am not offended by the imagery of a cartoon character urinating on various words and logos. What I find offensive is Ted Wright's wanton violation of copyrights and trademarks. Normally, you wouldn't find a greater free-speech advocate than me. However, as a photographer, writer and artist I find Mr. Wright's First Amendment plea -- as he profits from someone else's artwork without their permission -- rather irksome.
Having grown up as a fan of Bill Watterson's "Calvin and Hobbes" cartoon, and knowing that Mr. Watterson avoided the commercialization of his creations, I am certain that he would never have granted permission for anyone to portray Calvin in such a way, especially for commercial gain. In fact, Universal Press Syndicate, the distributor of "Calvin and Hobbes," has been issuing "cease and desist" orders to businesses such as Mr. Wright's.
Admittedly, UPS has a lot of catching up to do considering the number of sticker businesses in malls across America. Assuming they take a while to track him down, I hope Mr. Wright soon wakes up to the fact that he is violating copyrights for profit, something that worldwide artists, writers and musicians consider a cardinal sin.
In other news, I've made a rustic guitar stand that you can take apart. I'm going to try to sell it this Friday when I have it on display at the coffee house concert. Also, there are some fun new sample web page designs over at JPerryDesign.com. My favorite is this one.
07.Feb.2004
I'm getting a really bad case of cabin fever. A growler of Frostbite Pale Ale from the local brewery helps, but I think I might get the ol' mountain bike out one of these days. Snow be damned. Then again, Noam Chomsky is on C-SPAN. Yes, the evil glowing box is working its magic on me. It's too easy to turn on the TV, which is another reason I should get outside.
A little later...
I went for a very short, very cold bike ride,
possibly for a little more time than it actually
took me to suit up. My toes and my cheeks suffered the worst, though my lungs
burned and my mouth had that bloody taste that reminds me of early spring
training for high school track. (That was 13 years ago. I should also mention
that my old track coach runs by my parents' house every day, no matter how cold it is,
making me look like a chump.) At least I proved that I do have some will
power. Now it's time for some popcorn.
I made some business cards yesterday. Chris at the Adirondack Soup Company in Plattsburgh very kindly agreed to display a sign advertising my rustic guitar stands, and he suggested that I should bring in some business cards to put with it. They have a monthly house concert there, too, and he said I can bring in a guitar stand for the musicians to use for even more exposure of my work. This is encouraging, because I really need to get the revenue flowing soon. I've had a couple of nibbles on the web site design front, but still no photo sales.
25.Jan.2004
If you are used to my update schedule over the last several months (i.e. miserably infrequent) you May have missed last week's update. You should notice a dramatic change in the site's look; I've done a lot of work on my style sheets, and I've upgraded all of my pages to XHTML 1.0. I got a new book, Designing CSS Web Pages by Christopher Schmitt, from which I have learned enough to make vast improvements to this site and make the best of my new one. My eyes have paid the price for such intensely nerdy activity.
Henry Rollins is coming to The Egg in Albany on February 8, and I think I might go. The last (and only) time I saw his spoken word show was in Rochester, and my gut hurt the next day because I had been lAughing so hard. His music isn't the best, but I've got all of his talking CDs and I must say he's evolved into a great storyteller. Not many people know that he was one of the many influences in my decision to jump the corporate track.
I made my first rustic guitar stand sale! OK, it was to my mother, who bought it for her friend. But I charged her sales tax and everything. Tomorrow I'm going to get my act together and work on selling the other one I have in stock.
18.Jan.2004
The reason that I have taken so long since my last update is that I've been building a new site for my sole proprietorship, Jason Perry Design. Soon, jperrydesign.com will take you there.
In the meantime I've built a second rustic guitar stand that I intend to sell, and I've got a couple of requests for more. I've still had no luck selling my photography, even though 14 of my pictures have been hanging in Borders for almost 3 weeks now. Clearly my subject matter doesn't appeal to the locals. I've got to get my ass down to Lake Placid to see if I can get into a gallery there.
I bought an old 2-inch chisel (sans handle) for 65 cents at the Syracuse flea market this summer. It was in rough shape but salvageable, and that old steel is great. When I took it in recently to have it sharpened, the guy pointed at the marking and said, "That's a god-damned Witherby!" I guess that's good, I said to myself. I looked it up, and found a 2-inch Witherby chisel (with a handle and generally in better shape) for sale for $140. I love flea markets. My chisel now has a make-shift handle that I intend to replace eventually, but it cleaned up nicely and is sharp as a razor. I made a leather cap to protect the edge so the tool will last yet another generation.
Are you tired of hearing politicians and pundits begin their sentences, "The fact of the matter is..." whenever they try to make a point? I sure am. It's infectious. I remember first noticing the phrase's frequent use early on in W.'s term, mostly by Donald Rumsfeld. Since then it has become the new "like" or "y'know" for the Washington set. Every one of the (D) candidates uses it, especially that jerk, Schmeeberman. Now that I've pointed it out it will drive you crazy, too. Ha ha ha ha!