An interesting thought--
There were a bunch of folks who were clamoring to be "human shields" around certain targets in Iraq before the US invasion. The idea, I suppose, would be that Americans would hesitate to attack or bomb certain buildings or targets, knowing that innocents would be killed.
Would they volunteer to be "human shields" around voting booths in Iraq at the moment? The idea, I suppose, would be that Insurgents/Terrorists would hesitate to attack or bomb certain buildings or targets, knowing that innocents would be killed.
So...anybody heard of people heading over to Iraq to become human shields in the name of freedom, liberty and democracy? (I nominate Michael Moore--a guy his size ought to be able to cover a couple voting booths and absorb a rocket or two without any problems.)
The resounding silence says volumes.
1.28.2005
1.26.2005
January in Puget Sound
I saw a tree today that was budding.
Seriously--the buds had broken open and I could see the leaves start to stretch out. The heather that grows alongside the sidewalk is blooming, and smells...well, heathery. It's foggy, and misty, with a bit of rain, but it's January, and some of the trees are budding.
Winter is easy in this part of the world, if you can stand the grey.
And I can.
Some people look at grey skies as depressing, as the clouds close in and blot out the blue sky and the yellow sun (often for days at a time). But I grew up in semi-arid regions of Southern Oregon, where infrequent rain was a welcome surprise, that brought a wet note of sage and dust into the air. I loved to go the wetter side and see the thousand shades of green, the riot of plants and the wet air. I learned that grey was not the main color. I had to learn to look around the grey, and learn that grey skies intensify the other colors.
The car that drives by in the sunshine is dull in color. But under grey skies, or in the rain, it glistens, and the colors become richer.
The trees in the sunshine lift up leaves and needles to the sun, seeming to forget all else. But in the rain, they seem to glow, giving off the light they stored up.
Flowers against a backdrop of blue sky and bright light are fine. But put against a backdrop of grey skies, they are no longer overshadowed by the sunlight.
The ocean and grey skies seem to blend together, either (to me) doubling the amount of ocean, or doubling the amount of sky.
In the grey season, drops of water hang off the long needles of pine trees like Christmas ornaments, glowing with diffused light. Sounds are diffused like the light. The world becomes like the inside of a cathedral, lit by an indirect source that can't be placed, but you can sense its presence. Temperatures and light are moderated, and extremes are banished to other places, like fabled sunny California, or snow-covered Rainier (on the few days you can see it in the wintertime.)
And when the clouds drift away, and the sun comes out, it is glorious. That's January on the Puget Sound, when the trees start to bud and the long, exuberant spring often begins.
Seriously--the buds had broken open and I could see the leaves start to stretch out. The heather that grows alongside the sidewalk is blooming, and smells...well, heathery. It's foggy, and misty, with a bit of rain, but it's January, and some of the trees are budding.
Winter is easy in this part of the world, if you can stand the grey.
And I can.
Some people look at grey skies as depressing, as the clouds close in and blot out the blue sky and the yellow sun (often for days at a time). But I grew up in semi-arid regions of Southern Oregon, where infrequent rain was a welcome surprise, that brought a wet note of sage and dust into the air. I loved to go the wetter side and see the thousand shades of green, the riot of plants and the wet air. I learned that grey was not the main color. I had to learn to look around the grey, and learn that grey skies intensify the other colors.
The car that drives by in the sunshine is dull in color. But under grey skies, or in the rain, it glistens, and the colors become richer.
The trees in the sunshine lift up leaves and needles to the sun, seeming to forget all else. But in the rain, they seem to glow, giving off the light they stored up.
Flowers against a backdrop of blue sky and bright light are fine. But put against a backdrop of grey skies, they are no longer overshadowed by the sunlight.
The ocean and grey skies seem to blend together, either (to me) doubling the amount of ocean, or doubling the amount of sky.
In the grey season, drops of water hang off the long needles of pine trees like Christmas ornaments, glowing with diffused light. Sounds are diffused like the light. The world becomes like the inside of a cathedral, lit by an indirect source that can't be placed, but you can sense its presence. Temperatures and light are moderated, and extremes are banished to other places, like fabled sunny California, or snow-covered Rainier (on the few days you can see it in the wintertime.)
And when the clouds drift away, and the sun comes out, it is glorious. That's January on the Puget Sound, when the trees start to bud and the long, exuberant spring often begins.
In the Beginning...
In the beginning, there was the Internet. I remember in the early 70s, in Southern Oregon, when my elementary school had a single computer teletype hook-up to some university somewhere. I was fascinated by this remote machine that you could command, and it would obediently type out a word in Pltword, or play golf, or play Star Trek...
I was too young and in too small of towns to know about machines like the Altair, or the original Apples. I was never rich enough to own an Apple II (back when a floppy drive alone cost 500 dollars), but they were the first computers I actually got to mess with at my high school. I tried to figure out machine language, shape tables, apple basic, and some other fun stuff.
In the early 80s, not being rich enough for an IBM or an Apple, or even for the TRS80, I purchased my first computer, a Commodore 64. 64 whopping kilobytes of memory! Color capability! Sound chip! Sprite animation! Wow! Who could ask for more? I learned a bit about programming (and Poking, and Peeking), but I didn't have a reason for a modem at the time.
Not until later, on my 386 (16 screaming Mhz) , did I start exploring the BBS world (ah, the days of Random Lunacy.)
And then suddenly, I realized that there were things out there on the internet that were more than just programmer stuff, and I began to learn HTML, and put up my own websites. I was never really a programmer, so I never learned C, or Perl, or Java, or the real geek stuff. I've always been a fringe geek, I suppose. I never really got interested in computers and programming for the sake of its geekiness, but only when it related to my other interests.
Besides, to be a real geek took a lot more money than I ever had.
And so, now I am on the blogosphere.
I never imagined such a thing, way back when.
I was too young and in too small of towns to know about machines like the Altair, or the original Apples. I was never rich enough to own an Apple II (back when a floppy drive alone cost 500 dollars), but they were the first computers I actually got to mess with at my high school. I tried to figure out machine language, shape tables, apple basic, and some other fun stuff.
In the early 80s, not being rich enough for an IBM or an Apple, or even for the TRS80, I purchased my first computer, a Commodore 64. 64 whopping kilobytes of memory! Color capability! Sound chip! Sprite animation! Wow! Who could ask for more? I learned a bit about programming (and Poking, and Peeking), but I didn't have a reason for a modem at the time.
Not until later, on my 386 (16 screaming Mhz) , did I start exploring the BBS world (ah, the days of Random Lunacy.)
And then suddenly, I realized that there were things out there on the internet that were more than just programmer stuff, and I began to learn HTML, and put up my own websites. I was never really a programmer, so I never learned C, or Perl, or Java, or the real geek stuff. I've always been a fringe geek, I suppose. I never really got interested in computers and programming for the sake of its geekiness, but only when it related to my other interests.
Besides, to be a real geek took a lot more money than I ever had.
And so, now I am on the blogosphere.
I never imagined such a thing, way back when.
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