quiglols

Sat, 16 Jun 2007 17:36:42 GMT

Just felt like I should post it on this, even though most of the people who read it already know. My parents died this week on Sunday, June 10th.

Yeah.

Sun, 10 Jun 2007 04:03:51 GMT

Gugly Wugly
My only pugly
Couldn't keep his poor head snuggly
He quickly wandered away from home
On a quest to be less ugly

Throughout the streets and woods he went
On his goal he was unchangeably bent
Until he met a shepherd who
Walked with him, and told him as they went:

"Gugly Wugly, with your face so fugly, why do you quest so?
Didn't you realize that despite all your travel, you'll be ugly where ever you go?
Pick a spot, and if you don't want to be seen, your face you'll have to hide.
You'll wear a bag until you deduce where beauty really lies.
Here's a hint, Gugly: inside!"

As Gugly pondered the wise shepherd's words, he wandered back to his home.
And from that point forth, Gugly decided that no more would he roam.
He told me of tales of where he went, and of the inns where he made his bed.
"Gugly Wugly," said I "I'm glad you're now snuggly, but I can't hear you! Take that bag off your head!"

I have no idea.

Tue, 24 Apr 2007 19:10:55 GMT

I just started typing, and this came out. It was an interesting experience. I think I'll do it again sometime.

Never mind that, I consider this to be a great opportunity for greatness. Delicious hams will often float by, but none so savory as this has ever crossed my path. One can't imagine the rarity of this occurrence. Curiously, things of this nature just seem to flow freely from my skull, and I'm not entirely sure where they come from. Questions often present themselves in the form of answers. I'm sure there's probably something deep to that, but I'm just letting random words come to mind as I type. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to enjoy things.

Quack, the Saga: Part One

Tue, 24 Apr 2007 00:50:29 GMT

Yeah... I just started writing this one randomly, don't be surprised if it sucks.

Quack, the Saga, Part One:
An Orange too Far

Setting his hefty sack of oranges aside, the cloak man quietly began to pick the lock. It seemed to take an eternity to complete his task, but eventually the mechanism accented to his entry with a soft "click". He silently slipped through the door, glancing around with small, dark eyes. He quickly hid behind a conveniently placed counter when he spied a burly guardsman patrolling the area, holding his breath to avoid being noticed as the guard continued on his route. Waiting for the guard to walk by seemed to take an eternity. So long that it allowed time for him to ponder the overuse of the phrase "seemed to take an eternity".
"It's not even that great of a phrase, really. I mean, by literary standards it's just a so-so meta-"
He paused in mid sentence, thoughts racing through his mind: "Did I just say that out loud? Damn my constant appraisal of the English language! I can't allow this mission to be foiled, not now. Not after I've come this far."
He leaped out from behind the counter, sack of oranges in hand and shrieked at the husky sentinel. The cloaked protagonist reigned down blow after citric-y blow, each one more packed with fruity, vaguely-tang-flavored pain then the last. The merciless beating went on, until an alarm began to sound! He scolded himself, how could he have forgotten? All Corporation Inc. employees are equipped with cybernetic kidney implants that trigger a security system when attacked! Acting quickly, the shadowy figure dashed down the hall towards a janitorial closet, leaving his victim unconscious an thoroughly sticky. He quickly opened the door and, after quickly taking in the room, hid himself behind a grungy mop bucket. Yet more waiting ensued, this time with the sound of guards hurriedly shuffling about in the hallway, frantically searching for the fruit-wielding intruder.

LES DO EET!

Sun, 22 Apr 2007 04:44:54 GMT

------GAS WAR - an idea that WILL work

This was originally sent by a retired Coca Cola executive. It came from one of his engineer buddies who retired from Halliburton. It's worthy of your consideration.

Join the resistance! I hear we are going to hit close to $4.00 a gallon by summer and it might possibly go higher! Want gasoline prices to come down? We need to take some intelligent, united action. Phillip Hollsworth offered this good idea.

This makes MUCH MORE SENSE than the "don't buy gas on a certain day" campaign that was going around earlier! The oil companies just laughed at that because they knew we wouldn't continue to "hurt" ourselves by refusing to buy gas. It was more of an inconvenience to us than it was a problem for them.

BUT, whoever thought of this idea, has come up with a plan that can really work. Please read on and join with us! By now you're probably thinking gasoline priced at about $1.50 is super cheap. Me too! It is currently $2.79 for regular unleaded in my town. Now that the oil companies and the OPEC nations have conditioned us to think that the cost of a gallon of gas is CHEAP at $1.50 - $1.75, we need to take aggressive action to teach them that BUYERS control the marketplace..... not sellers. With the price of gasoline going up more each day, we consumers need to take action. The only way we are going to see the price of gas come down is if we hit someone in the pocketbook by not purchasing their gas! And, we can do that WITHOUT hurting ourselves. How? Since we all rely on our cars, we can't just stop buying gas. But we CAN have an impact on gas prices if we all act together to force a price war.

Here's the idea:

For the rest of 2007, DON'T purchase ANY gasoline from the two biggest companies (which now are one), EXXON and MOBIL. If they are not selling any gas, they will be inclined to reduce their prices. If they reduce their prices, the other companies will have to follow suit.

But to have an impact, we need to reach literally millions of Exxon and Mobil gas buyers. It's really simple to do! Now, don't wimp out at this point.... keep reading and I'll explain how simple it is to reach millions of people.

I am sending this note to 30 people. If each of us sends it to at least ten more (30 x 10 =3D 300) ... and those 300 send it to at least ten more (300 x 10 =3D 3,000)...and so on, by the time the message reaches the sixth group of people, we will have reached over THREE MILLION consumers. If those three million get excited and pass this on to ten friends each, then 30 million people will have been contacted! If it goes one level further, you guessed it..... THREE HUNDRED MILLION PEOPLE!!!

Again, all you have to do is send this to 10 people. That's all. (If you don't understand how we can reach 300 million and all you have to do is send this to 10 people.... Well, let's face it, you just aren't a mathematician. But I am, so trust me on this one.)

How long would all that take? If each of us sends this e-mail out to ten more people within one day of receipt, all 300 MILLION people could conceivably be contacted within the next 8 days!!!

I'll bet you didn't think you and I had that much potential, did you?

Acting together we can make a difference. If this makes sense to you, please pass this message on. I suggest that we not buy from EXXON/MOBIL UNTIL THEY LOWER THEIR PRICES TO THE $1.30 RANGE AND KEEP THEM DOWN.

Hmm...

Fri, 20 Apr 2007 20:08:00 GMT

I really want a chance to use the word "boozery" in one of my papers...
A message for those of you who are asking "WARES THE FUNNY????", as I myself am so prone to doing: Once school clears up a bit I'll be writing more papers for my personal enjoyment, I.E., funny papers. I've got a few good ideas that I'd really like to work with, including a possible book idea (albeit a short book idea). In other words, STAYE TOONED 4 FUNNAY!!J!!

Persuasive paper

Fri, 20 Apr 2007 19:55:03 GMT

The persuasive paper I did for English, I like this one. Consider it my mandatory corporation-bashing paper.

Homogenization – Welcome to McMerica

When you travel to another state, do you want to eat the same food you eat at home? Do you want to shop at the same stores? The corporations want you to, and they’ll use everything in their power to make it happen. All over the U.S., MacDonald’s, Walmart, K-mart, Bed Bath and Beyond, Barnes and Noble, Chili’s and countless other national chains are muscling out small businesses. This homogenization will decimate everything that we love about America, changing it from “the land of opportunity” to the land of monotony and eternal minimum wage.

In 1995, there were 11,400 McDonald’s restaurants in the United States. That’s over .003 McDonald’s per square mile. It may seem like a small number, but keep in mind how huge the United States is. Burger King has an astounding 11,455 restaurants; Walmart has about 6,400 stores across the U.S.; and, Chili’s has over 1,000 restaurants. What does all this add up to? America has become a corporate nation.

Remember when every small town had something unique to offer? I don’t. Corporations like Walmart, McDonalds and Target have made sure that wherever I go, the golden arches are right there with me. It’s always been this way for me, ever since I was born. Some of you might ask, “Why is this a bad thing? You’ll be able to shop and eat at businesses you know.” I think that Greg Palast made the best argument in his book, The Best Democracy Monet Can Buy, when he wrote, “From New Orleans jambalaya, to Harlem ham hocks, to New England crab boil, whatever is unique to an American region or town has been hunted down and herded into a few tourist preserves. The oppressive ubiquity of contrived American monoculture has ingested and eliminated any threat of character” (par. 2).

Homogenization destroys the small-town feeling that we love about small towns, plain and simple. If this expansion continues, soon every town will be identical. You won’t see cute little stores or get a glimpse of the local culture as you walk down the street. All the small businesses with historic value will be gone, along with local restaurants. All local color will be drained and replaced by a pattern of corporately owned businesses: Starbucks, Walmart, K-mart, Starbicks, Walmart, K-mart, McDonald’s.

Homogenization isn’t just a matter of boring towns. It also effectively destroys small retail businesses. Huge compartment stores like Walmart and Target can afford to sell products for less than small business operations can, and have a wider variety of products. Mom-and-Pop stores can’t compete, and are driven out of business by the corporate behemoths. To make matters worse, Walmart gets grants from local governments while the company is moving in. All this leads to deeper homogenization, as all other retail stores in town are crushed by corporations. When this happens, the consumer has no alternatives. We’re forced to shop at Walmart, or whatever other national chain that has embedded itself in our town.

My father runs a small business. He seals tile floors. The place where he buys the sealent he uses is also a small business. My father knows the person who runs the store, and is on a first-name basis with him. If my dad is a little short on money currently, he can ask the shop keeper to hold the check for a few days, and the merchant will happily oblige. Try that at Kmart. They’ll send you straight out of the store. There’s no relationship there. The clerk is just a cog in the machine. The employees can’t be understanding, because that just gets them fired. The point is that locally-owned businesses report to no one but themselves; they don’t have to report to the next person up the ladder every week. This allows local businesses to run their operations with understanding and compassion, something the corporations can’t touch. “Never spend money where you can’t make a friend,” as my great grandfather used to say.

There are economic reasons for fighting homogenization too. With standard local businesses, the majority of the money is recycled back into the local economy, and the rest goes to materials, products, etc. This is not so with a corporately owned business. The majority of the money earned by the business leaves the town and goes up the corporate ladder, finally stopping at the CEO of the corporation. In fact, a study conducted by the Institute for Local Self-Reliance in Maine found that “the eight [local] businesses [surveyed] spent 44.6 percent of their revenue within the surrounding to counties (Knox and Waldo). Another 8.7 percent was spent elsewhere in the state of Maine” (“The Economic Impact of Locally Owned Businesses vs. Chains” page 2). The authors add: “A typical [corporate] big box store spends 14.1 percent of its revenue within the local and state economy” (“The Economic Impact of Locally Owned Businesses vs. Chains” page 3). This funnels money out of local economies and into the pockets of the already grossly rich. Also, the majority of these corporations only pay minimum wage to most of their employees. What does this mean? It means that the rich get richer, the poor get poorer, and the gap between the classes grows ever wider as these chains flourish.
When it comes down to it, it’s up to you. You can go about your comfortable, familiar life and keep feeding the corporate machine, or you can take a stand against homogenization. As for me, I’m going to make sure this isn’t the kind of place I hand to my children. I pray to God that familiarity breeds contempt. See you on the picket lines.

Works Cited

Palast, Greg. “Small Towns, Small Minds.” Excerpted from the book The Best Democracy
Money Can Buy. 2003. 3 Feb. 2007. Third World Traveler. www.thirdworldtraveler.com.

“The Economic Impact of Locally Owned Businesses vs. Chains: A Case Study in Midcoast
Maine.” 2003. 3 Feb. 2007. The New Rules Project. www.newrules.org.

Fri, 20 Apr 2007 06:12:11 GMT

My most personal work to date.

Communications technology has become my metaphorical iron maiden. One that I've willingly placed myself into, under the false pretense that it might actually relieve me of my sickness. This notion is, of course, foolishness. Yet, again and again I return. I return in the vain hope that each attempt will bring a better, more desirable outcome. I've heard a definition of insanity that states it is doing the same thing repeatedly while expecting a different result. This seems very relevant to me right now. I almost feel silly writing this, and I do so in the knowledge that I'll feel silly when I look back on it. After all, it's easy to logically deduce that this will pass (and quickly, knowing myself), but logic rarely helps while you're in the storm of emotion, especially that of infatuation.

And so, here I am; physically in my bathroom (my sacred space), but sitting in the eye of the storm in mind and spirit. Fully able to deduce the logical outcome of the situation, but unable to truly believe it. Even now I write with the absurd notion that the very act of writing what I feel will change my circumstances; adding further to the down-right ridiculousness of my affliction. Of course, to speak of it's ridiculousness now is to be considered sacrilege towards a divinely provided queen, but later it is to be considered wisdom.

I have been writing for about an hour now, and I can't help but wonder how many others have been forced to pour out their hearts onto paper in situations similar to mine. I realize posting this here is a cowards way out, seeing as it's easier to tell these things from behind the dehumanizing protection of a computer screen then it is to vocally speak them in the presence of others, but I do so in the faith that I will not be ridiculed by those who I love. As for those of you who want to help me, know that in reading this you have brought more comfort than any other action or advice could have.

My artificial reason for posting this here is to chronicle my maturation. My real purpose is simply to get it off my chest.

Hate...

Wed, 18 Apr 2007 16:35:16 GMT

I hated writing this paper. It wouldn't have been so bad if I had been able to pick a topic other then an animal or geographic location, or if I had picked something other then barnacles to write it on. Oh, just so you know, the pictures from the original essay didn't make it into this post. Blame it on livejournal. HATE HATE HATE HATE HEATHEHATHEHTHTEAHHATHEAHETHATHEATH. Enjoy!

Acorn Barnacles
The acorn barnacle is a crustacean with several unique stages of development. From the naupli to the final adult stage of the acorn barnacle, the process of growth will radically change the way the barnacle looks and functions. These crustaceans can be found everywhere, and are a huge nuisance to sailors.

All acorn barnacles have both male and female genitalia. This allows cross fertilization between two barnacles, and, in some cases, self fertilization. Their mating season is between the months of November and December. When mating season comes, the barnacle will extend its penis, which is, according to the Museum of Victoria Australia: "proportionately probably the largest penis in the animal kingdom" (“Biology of Barnacles,” par. 2). Once the barnacle finds a mate, fertilization will occur. Up to 10,000 eggs can be fertilized at once in one barnacle (Davey par. 6). The eggs will remain inside the barnacle's mantle cavity for four months before they are released into the ocean to continue their growth process, starting the cycle all over again.

During the barnacle’s first stage of growth, it is known as a nauplius. The main body of the naupli is in roughly an egg shape, with the most rotund side at the top and the other end trailing down into the mandible. On the sides of the body there are antennae that assist the larva in moving around the ocean. Towards the upper end of the “torso,” there is one eye, situated in between the left and right sides (Davey, par. 7).

Unlike the crustacean’s adult stage, these naupli are not stationary; they are capable of swimming around without restraint. At this point in time, the barnacle does not consume food. The naupli molts into this same form five times before going on to the next stage of development, the cypris stage (Stubbings, “Cirripedia,” par. 1).

There are several key physical differences between the nauplius stage and the cypris stage. The most noticeable differences are the repositioning of the antennae to the underbelly and the formation of the carapace around the body of the crustacean. A change that you cannot readily see is the addition of touch and chemical sensors; these are used in finding a suitable living place. The chemical sensors allow the cyrpis to detect the chemicals emitted by adult acorn barnacles, allowing the cypris to make its home near other barnacles (“Acorn Barnacle,” par. 9). Although its appearance has changed, the cyrpid is still incapable of eating (Davey, par. 9).

As you can see, the barnacle undergoes several radical changes through the maturation process. Surprisingly enough, the stages throughout the barnacle’s life are roughly similar to the rest of the crustacean family’s. You can see the similarities when you compare the barnacle's cypris stage of development to the various developmental stages of other crustaceans. (Stubbings, “Barnacles,” par. 2)

At this stage the young cyrpis begins seeking a place to station itself permanently. When the cypris finds a suitable home, it will begin the process of permanently fixating itself on the surface. It all starts with one last molting. This molting transforms the antennae into leg-like appendages called cirripeds, and prepares the cypris to attach itself. Once the molting is finished, the cypris positions its “face” against the rock and turns its body so that the cirrepeds are sticking outwards (Davey, par. 10). It will then secrete a glue-like substance, adhering itself to the surface. This glue is incredibly strong and capable of sticking to Teflon (Handwerk, par. 2). These crustaceans can live for five to ten years, and the glue is so durable that the shell remains long after the barnacle itself is dead.

Now that it is attached, the cyrpid will begin creating calcareous plates for protection, leading to the final stage of development. The final stage is the adult acorn barnacle.

An adult acorn barnacle has four to six grey protective plates surrounding its body, creating the exoskeleton. There are two additional sets of plates that protect its top. These are connected to muscles, allowing them to open up when the barnacle needs to gather food or water.

Directly beneath the top plates are the cirripeds. The mouth of the barnacle is situated beneath the cirri, and is attached directly to the stomach (Davey, par. 2).

The barnacle diet is very simple, consisting of plankton and any other small edible organisms that happen to come the barnacle's way. When the time comes for the barnacles to feed, they open up their door-like plates and begin waving their cirripeds, directing any nearby food into the barnacle's mouth (Davey, par. 4).

Barnacles are capable of living on virtually anything solid, including rocks, sea walls and various other natural and human-made structures. Depth holds no obstacle for the acorn barnacle, as it can be found in tide pools as well as deep under the ocean. They are also capable of living out of the water for short periods of time, as demonstrated by the barnacles that live higher up on peers and sea walls. They begin building their homes as the tide roles in and simply stay there when the water level is lowered. While they are above water, they keep their top plates closed, to keep in water and protect themselves from predators. This is why you have probably never seen an open barnacle. When the tide rolls back in, they retract their protective plates to gather food and cycle out their supply of water (“Acorn Barnacle,” par. 2).

But barnacles are not limited to making their homes solely on stationary objects. They have been known to adhere to large whales and, much to the chagrin of sailors, ships. When barnacles latch on to a ship’s hull or rudder, the barnacles create drag and make the ship less aerodynamic. An interesting article on the Monterey Bay Aquarium's Web site states that: "Barnacles encrusted on ships can cause enough drag to increase fuel consumption by 40 percent" (“Acorn Barnacle,” par. 8) and that "In less than two years, 10 tons of barnacles can become attach to a tanker" (“Acorn Barnacle,” par. 7).

Unfortunately, the barnacles are resilient enough to survive fresh water trips, making any attempt to kill them by boating through fresh water rivers ineffective (Schmitt, page 73). This makes it necessary to scrape them off manually, adding labor costs. All of these factors add up to billions of dollars in damage to sea-fairing companies each year. Attached barnacles also speed up the corrosion process of hulls, adding further to the damage these crustaceans cause. These startling facts have prompted the creation of a synthetic sharkskin for the hulls of ships. Barnacles find it hard to attach themselves to this material (Handwerk, par. 9).

The acorn barnacle has an incredibly interesting growth process, ranging from the egg-shaped nauplius, to the rock-like adult. We can only hope that with the creation of the synthetic sharkskin that people will begin to see them as less of a nuisance and more of an interesting aspect of the animal kingdom.

Works Cited

“Acorn Barnacle.” Monterey Bay Aquarium Online Field Guide. 2007. 30 Mar. 2007
<http://www.mbayaq.org/efc/living_species/default.asp?hori=1&inhab=488>.

Davey, Keith. “Barnacles.” Life on Australian Sea Shores. 2000. 23 Mar. 2007
<http://www.mesa.edu.au/friends/seashores/barnacles.html>.

“Biology of Barnacles.” Museum Victoria Australia. 1996. 23 Mar. 2007
<http://www.mov.vic.gov.au/crust/barnbiol.html>.

Handwerk, Brian. "To Battle Barnacles, Ships Test Fake Sharkskin." National
Geographic. 22 July 2005. 30 Mar. 2007
<http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2005/07/0722_050722_sharkskin.html>.

Stubbings, H. G. "Barnacle." AccessScience. McGraw-Hill. 18 Jan. 2001.
<http://www.accessscience.com.lsproxy.austincc.edu>.

Stubbings, H. G. "Cirripedia." in AccessScience. McGraw-Hill. 21 May 2001
<http://www.accessscience.com.lsproxy.austincc.edu>.

Schmitt, Waldo. Crustaceans. The United States of America and Rexdale, Canada: The University of Michigan, 1965.

NAMED!

Tue, 17 Apr 2007 17:14:25 GMT

This is a bit late, but for those of you who don't know, our band has a name and a myspace now. The name's RSH and the URL is myspace.com/rshband. I'll probably stick another paper up here later today.

Wow XD

Thu, 01 Mar 2007 16:35:44 GMT

Found some of my old NLP homework. CAUTION: The following post may contain typos, misspellings and grammatical errors. This is because it has not been edited. I have not altered it's original format, so that it might maintain the sanctity of it's age (however small that may be).

Piece of pepperoni

Circular meat-frisbee, it brings to mind the days of my youth, playing frisbee-golf
because I was forced to in gym class. Frisbee golf is a game made by people who wanted to
justify throwing a round piece of plastic around for hours on end, and involves trying to
get said plastic piece into a thing that looks totally unlike a ray gun, but more like a
medieval torture device designed to get information out of midgets.

It's freckled with little white and black spots, together they've built a culture based on
piece and unity. Investing large amounts of time in science and the arts, all of which
will seem so futile once they're being digested; Ie, as soon as I'm done writing these
descriptions.

It smells of grease, which is easily explained because it's covered in it. If you tried
to touch it or pick it up, you would find that your fingers would be covered with grease.
And if you tried typing with afformentioned grease-covered fingers, you would find that
the keys you've pressed on your keyboard would be covered in grease. This chain will
continue until you wipe your greasey fingers off on your jeans, which would normally be
considered unsanitary, but it's really no worse if you've been wearing them for several
days.

There's a VERY tiny hole in the middle, and dispite it's small size, you can peer through it, unveiling a world not unlike where ever it is you are. In fact, it's exactly like where ever you are, it looks as if you're just looking at it where ever you are through a disc of meat, but that's just a trick of the eye. It is, in fact, a paralel dimension. If you'd like to see some of it's inhabitants, try looking through the meat at a mirror.

A little burnt on the edge after being baked 2 times, normally I would describe it's
thoughts about being baked twice, but it doesn't have a brain, stupid.

Ripped from his beloved home atop a cheesy paradise, a Digiorno pizza, bringing to mind
the old saying "It's not delivery, it's Digiorno you uncultured swine!"

He mis ses his meaty friends, who were not named after former made up presidents such as
Stinky Wizzlefitz, Heehaw Johnson and Richard Nixon.

Very wavy, like a still frame of a sea of meat that's been sailed by pirates and
merchants for thousands of years. All of them looking for riches and uncharted lands,
also made of meat, just in a more solid form. As you can imagine, very odd fish swim in
this sea of meat. Picture a normal fish, then completely forget about it because meat
fish look TOTALLY different. I will give a brief description of one of the species here,
Meatus-Prohibitius (A generic meatfish, known to the layman as "Meatfish"). It has a
spatula-shaped head, which is about 2 inches across and 2 centimeters tall. There are no
visible eyes, but upon closer examination of it's ostrich-shaped belly, you can see
several marblish black things. These are not eyes. If you thought they were, you were
wrong. They move about on the bottom of the ocean using the suction cups on their backs.
They're often found in the gulf of Meatico, who's coastlines are inhabbited by
Meatfishers.

And chunk of cheese on the bottom that looks like a hamster wearing a helmet and army
boots, being briefed for a mission that very well could be his last. "Squeak, squeak
squeak." Says the hamster commander, Snowball. He then nibbled on a sunflower seed for a
little bit, in an attempt to inspire his troops. But to no avail, it actually had the
opposite effect! Whispers of mutiny began to circulate among the furry warriors. Then
Shnooky stood up and made a little cough. After all of the hamsters had quited down and
focused their attention on him, he said this: "Squeak, squeak squeak squeak", which,
roughly translated, means this: "Commander Snowball, for too long have you sat back,
sending troops into battle while you eat sunflower seeds and grow fat. This can not be
accepted any longer! Is it not written in Hamstoria, the holy book of hamsters that "To
each his own, and to all sunflower seeds"? You, Snowball, have broken this most sacred of
commandments, and must be dealt with according to the laws of hamsters.". And then, the
hamster soldiers carried him off to court, where they sued the pants off of him and lived
the rest of their lives eating and sharing sunflower seeds with all the hamsters of the
world.

ESSAY'D!

Tue, 13 Feb 2007 16:33:06 GMT

So, the game project seems to be picking up steam again, w00tw00t! I'll be spending a good portion of my free time learning how to model, so I can better contribute to the project. We need to set up a date for the first meeting, tell me what the best days would be for y'all. Anyways, here's my reflective essay for english composition, enjoy!

My Frozen Expedition

If you enjoy trudging your way through two-foot-deep half-frozen sludge, if your idea of a good time is boldly marching out onto ice of questionable stability, if you laugh in the face of the phrase “90% chance of hypothermia” then ice fishing is the sport for you. For those of you who are more, how should I put this, Sane, I would recommend a different hobby. I once had the misfortune to be brought along on an ice fishing trip. It was an experience that I will never forget.

It all began in the winter of 2003. Some said they could feel the evil in the air that year and that the sense of foreboding came to them through a distinct rumbling in the right kidney. My family and I were residing in Austin, Texas when my parents had the idea of sending my brother and I up to our grandparent's house in New Hampshire, as we hadn't seen them in a while. The decision was further enforced by the lack of snow in our area, and my brother's love of said frozen water. The plan was to fly up to our destination, stay at our grandparent's residence for a month, and fly back. Off we went.

Upon arriving at the airport in New Hampshire, we were escorted by our grandparents to their house, and began to settle ourselves. We spent the first few weeks talking, getting caught up on each other's lives and playing in the snow. Eventually, my original enamorment with the snow began to wear off and the consequence of playing in it revealed its unpleasant form. We would come back inside, our clothes completely soaked with melted snow. It didn't matter how much we tucked in our shirts, how many layers of clothing we wore, or how short of a time we played. Freezing misery was the inevitable consequence of playing outside. A new tactic was required. We would go out for fifteen minutes, come back in, warm up, change clothes and repeat the process. This lasted for a few more days. Then we began staying inside most of the time. Time passed uneventfully.

One day, our grandfather invited us to go ice fishing with him and his friend. I should have just turned down the offer. The only thing I knew about ice fishing was that it involved ice - cold, wet ice - and that was reason enough for me not to go. But, not wanting to be rude, I accepted the invitation and we made our way to the lake.

The lake was situated in the middle of a park. Seeing as park rangers generally frown upon driving SUVs through the indigenous life, we were forced to get out in the parking lot on the outskirts of the park and drag our gear down the hill to the lake. This was my second mistake, and by “this” I mean getting out of the car. Within minutes of walking, my poorly made $20 tennis shoes had been penetrated by the freezing slush and my feet were freezing. I knew that I would not be able to keep walking on my ice-coated feet. Towards the lower end of the hill, my grandfather's friend, who we will call Jeff from now on, for lack of a better name, kindly allowed me to sit in the sled while he pulled it the rest of the way.

Soon enough we reached the edge of the frozen lake. The ice was covered with a deep slush made of half-melted ice and snow. We began walking out onto the ice. I had assumed that we would pick a nice, safe spot towards the rim of the lake, where the ice is thickest. However, it seems that the potential of dying in the freezing water is a requirement for a location to be considered a good ice fishing spot. I can think of no other reason for us to go out as far as we did. Once we had reached the middle of the lake and found a spot that my grandfather deemed a good place to begin, we started setting up our equipment. My feet were going numb again, so I sat in the sled and watched while they did all the work. This is my usual role, so I felt very comfortable taking it on again. My grandfather brought out a huge power-drill and began boring a hole in the ice. This was a dual-purpose step; it made holes for us to fish out of and made the ice more dangerous, thus more preferable.

Once he had bored the hole, he and Jeff set up a tripod over it and attached a string and bait to the contraption. Unknown to me, ice fishing was not like normal fishing. In normal fishing, you do things. You cast the line, you wait for the bite, you tug and fight until the fish in the boat. In ice fishing, you set the line on a tripod and wait for something to happen, making it infinitely more boring and unpleasant than normal fishing in every way. So we waited, and I froze. We waited, I froze. We waited some more, and I froze some more. Nothing was happening. We hadn't gotten so much as a nibble. The total futility of this sport was overwhelming. Why can't we just fish when it's warm? Who in their right mind would do this for leisure?

Eventually, we gave up our pursuit and began the time consuming task of getting packed up and walking to our car, which was made even more difficult by my frozen feet. I was once again pulled across the ice in the sled, this time by my brother and Jeff, to the opposite shore. My grandfather had gone to prepare the car so it would be warm when we got there. All said, the process of packing up and going to the car took about 30 minutes. Thirty minutes seems like an eternity when your metabolism is about as fast as a lethargic slug's due to freezing temperatures.

We left, freezing and disappointed, but happy to be going home. If you ever have the urge to die of hypothermia, go ice fishing. If someone holds a gun to your head and tells you to go ice fishing, go ice fishing. If you're ever starving to death, and the only way you can get food is by ice fishing, then go ice fishing. For those of you who aren't living in post-apocalyptic terrorist-riddled tundras, DO NOT GO ICE FISHING.

Valen-ma-tines

Tue, 13 Feb 2007 05:01:28 GMT

http://vgcats.com/news/link.jpg

:3

FREEZEH!

Wed, 17 Jan 2007 18:20:36 GMT

It's all iced over, and that means the campuses are closed, and that means that I get another week of vacation! Hurray! :3

All better

Tue, 16 Jan 2007 06:06:28 GMT

I had to fix this up after the what Xaque posted about it.

The Internet: Miracle of the twenty first century, or seedy underbelly of the digital world?

Many people believe the internet to be the ultimate example of human connectivity, a bench-mark in human communications. Many people are ignorant. Yes, ignorant, ignorant to the dangers that surround them, just behind every link, and just at the end of every Microsoft service pack download. The truth is, the internet is a dangerous place where almost everyone's out to get you. I will teach you a little about the "interhood", so that you might better protect yourself.

The first things you should know about are the various illegal activities that commonly occur throughout the interhood. The most common is stealing, or "pirating", a highly unethical practice that involves copying code off of a 10 cent cd that you would normally have to pay 200 dollars for. As you can see, the pirates are obviously the ones at fault. Most of the illegal activity branches off from pirating, such as spreading around r0mz (pronounced "roms") or w4r3z (pronounced "wares") which are usually pirated games.

And then there's hacking, the act of breaking into secured areas of the internet. Hacking is sometimes used to steal material or crash a network, but more often then not it's just to see if the hacker can do it. Hackers are the most dangerous thing on the internet, they can create programs that can access your personal information, which they sell to someone else for money. As I said before, almost everyone on the internet is out get you. Wether it be some con-artist asking you to punch the monkey for a free iPod or a hacker trying to sell information about you to the aforementioned con-artist.

Now, you need to understand the types of "hackers" that are out there. To do that you need to learn a little bit about "1337" (pronounced "Leet"). 1337 is a spin off on the English alphabet/language commonly used in online gaming and chat rooms. Usually it's just replacing letters with characters that look like them. Like replacing "a" with "4" or replacing an "I" with "!". Also, misspellings go unnoticed, and are actually embraced in certain cases. Such as using "teh" instead of "the". When you're online, some people will threaten you by saying things like "OMG I LYKE AM GOENG TO H4X0R U!" (translation: Say there, I'm going to steal your identity old chum.). If someone says this, chances are they're what's commonly referred to as a "n00b" (pronounced "noob"), or someone who really has no idea what they're doing. As such they're nothing to fear. As for hackers, they usually have better things to do with their time than attack small home networks, so you're really ok on that account too. The people you really need to worry about are the intermediate users. the ones who know enough to be able to use the tools that hackers have made and really do some damage. The only thing about them is that the tools they're using are usually designed for a specific purpose, such as breaking through a particular type of firewall. So, if you were using a different firewall, they might not be able to break through.

All of this may make it seem like you're safe, but the truth is you can never be truly safe if you use the internet. No matter how many security measures you've taken there's always a way around them, always a back door that you've overlooked. So, overall, it's probably best to stay away from the internet all together. Go out and live with the Amish, where life is hard but simple, and information really isn't all that necessary. If this seems like a bit much, try just using the phone instead. The yellow pages are the safest search engines; I suggest you get to know them a bit better.

*WARNING* Use of the internet may cause communism and/or pedophilia. Use only as directed and with extreme caution.

Otto Von Bismarck

Fri, 12 Jan 2007 05:01:21 GMT

The last paragraph on this one really sucks, I was tired and wanted to get the paper done with. I'll revise it later. Something seems a bit... Off about the paper too. I think it has to do with the lack of content... Oh well...

Otto Von Bismarck, a man of great ambition, and of equally great action. He unified Germany, making sure Prussia (his home land) still maintained most of the power, an amazing feat. He pulled the political strings of the Germanic empire for 28 years. He ruled with an iron fist, crushing anyone who got in his way. But enough of that, after all most people already know Otto Von Bismarck: Ruthless Chancellor of Germany, but do they know Otto Von Bismarck: Stamp Collector? Yes, what many people don't realize is that when this cruel politician gets home from a long, hard day of persecuting Catholics, he becomes just a man. A man who likes to collect and organize rare stamps.

“Vhat most people don't realize iz zat I'm just a normal guy.” Said Otto Von Bismarck, when we question him at his estate in Prussia, “I put my pickelhaube on in ze morning just like every ozher man. Being ze biggest political influence in ze great empire of Germany iz just my job, my real passion iz collecting stamps.” He said. “Vhat's ze big deal vith me collecting stamps?” When we pursued the topic of his hobby further, Mr. Bismarck refused to answer any more questions on the grounds that quote, “Question time iz over!”. He then accused us of being socialist traitors and demanded that we leave Germany immediately.

I decided to ask around and see what the general reaction to this information was. Surprisingly, most people are shocked to hear that the man who had led Prussia to victory against the French had such a mundane hobby. People had reactions ranging from “Stamps, huh?” to “Wasn't he in Ghost Busters?”. One person we interviewed had this to say: “I never would have guessed that he collected stamps. I always thought his hobby was something like exacting vengeance upon his enemies, or flying.” Indeed, nobody seemed to realize that there was a man beneath the uniform.

When it comes right down to it, people are deeper than their jobs. From the friendly neighborhood pharmacist who enjoys killing people in his spare time, to the relentless political leader who collects stamps, everyone has a passion. I hope you find yours soon.

Under teh knife

Thu, 11 Jan 2007 05:00:55 GMT

I'm going to get my wisdom teeth removed in one of those experimental medicine studies, something I needed to have done. It was going to cost us 1600 bucks to get it done normally, but this way they're actually going to pay me $750. Cha-ching! Just pray I don't get a placebo, heh.

Name!

Wed, 03 Jan 2007 02:44:04 GMT

We found a name, 27 Steps. w00tw00t!

Ugh...

Tue, 02 Jan 2007 19:57:35 GMT

Evidently the name "sovereign" is already taken, we'll be looking for a new one.

Just found this.

Tue, 02 Jan 2007 06:05:06 GMT

Found this and thought it was funny, DOUBLE POSTED! We used to have to write for 15 minutes a day on an assigned topic, this is one of the outcomes. I wrote this a long time ago, so please forgive any poor grammar/writing/incoherent gibberish.

"There's no success like failure." Is not necessarily a true statement. While you do learn more from your failures then your successes, it doesn't necesarily mean that you've succeeded. For example, if a big company puts alot of money into a product that they think will sell well, but completely flops, they did not succeed. They failed miserably, I mean, terrible call on their part. The CEO's will probably be repeatedly beaten with socks full of woodscrews and then put in front of a firing squad (Hurray capitalism!). Did they gain anything from this? Yes, they learned that the product they were selling was not wanted by the public. Did they succeed? No, success would have been determined by how well the product did. Another example, if Xaque is doing his C++ homework and he thinks he's done, but he tries to run the program and it comes up with 166 errors. He may learn from fixing the errors, but chances are he'll either spend alot of time that didn't have to be spent on his homework, or he won't be able to finish it by the deadline. Sure, he learned, but he didn't get his homework in on time, which puts him behind the class, which over all leads to less learning while using more time. (I know I just made a ton of assumptions there, give me a break) In conclusion, success doesn't always mean success and failure doesn't always mean failure. Just another thing to confuse you and make you angry. I'm going to start writing a Redwall book now.

Billy the Mole: "Hurr, mole be oye."
Sammy the Squirrel: "And I am a squirrel!"
Billy the Mole: "Hurr, thur be rats, says oye."
Sammy the Squirrel: "Ah, good observation, let's kick some rat butt!"
Billy the Mole: "Hurr, mole be oye"
Sammy the Squirrel: "Yes, I think you mentioned that alre-|"
Billy the Mole: "Hurr, oye likes to dig wit me claws"
(Billy the Mole begins digging a hole)
Sammy the Squirrel: "Oh no, rats!"
Billy the Mole: "Hurr, deeper 'n ever turnip and radish and etc, etc."

Tue, 02 Jan 2007 05:55:35 GMT

Good news time! For those of you who don't know, I'm in a band called Sovereign (Don't bother looking it up, we haven't put anything on the web yet). The band consists of Me (Drums) My brother (guitar) and one of our friends (guitar). Both of our guitarists are excellent, and I like to think that I'm a decent drummer. The genre we would best fit into is alt-rock at this point. We played at a friend's New Year's Eve party, and his father gave us a PA system and a big ol' speaker! Glee! Not only that, but my brother got a mic for Christmas, allowing us to accommodate a singer. Anyways, we were invited to play at a concert called Taterstock. Yes, I know it sounds like a hick name, but a gig is a gig at this point. The concert's being hosted by a couple that came to the party, they're building a stage for it on their property. It's going to happen sometime in the spring, so we're kicking the search for a singer and a bass player into high gear. More info on that as it unfolds. Excellent things going on. We'll try to get some songs recorded and put them up on myspace soon, so those of you who are curious can check out our music.

WRITING'D!

Yet again, more school work. I'm most creative when I'm forced to be. This actually has a tiny bit of educational value in it, you get a prize if you can find it!

The Internet: Miracle of the twenty first century, or seedy underbelly of the digital world?

Many people believe the internet to be the ultimate example of human connectivity, a bench-mark in human communications. Many people are ignorant. Yes, ignorant, ignorant to the dangers that surround them, just behind every link, and just at the end of every Microsoft service pack download. The truth is, the internet is a dangerous place where almost everyone's out to get you. I will teach you a little about the "interhood", so that you might better protect yourself.

The first things you should know about are the various illegal activities that commonly occur throughout the interhood. The most common is stealing, or "pirating", a highly unethical practice that involves copying code off of a 10 cent cd that you would normally have to pay 200 dollars for. As you can see, the pirates are obviously the ones at fault. Most of the illegal activity branches off from pirating, such as spreading around r0mz (pronounced "roms") or w4r3z (pronounced "wares") which are usually pirated games.

And then there's hacking, the act of breaking into secured areas of the internet. Hacking is sometimes used to steal material or crash a network, but more often then not it's just to see if the hacker can do it. Hackers are the most dangerous thing on the internet, they can create programs that can access your personal information, which they sell to someone else for money. As I said before, almost everyone on the internet is out get you. Wether it be some con-artist asking you to punch the monkey for a free iPod or a hacker trying to sell information about you to the aforementioned con-artist.

Now, you need to understand the types of "hackers" that are out there. To do that you need to learn a little bit about "1337" (pronounced "Leet"). 1337 is a spin off on the English alphabet/language commonly used in online gaming and chat rooms. Usually it's just replacing letters with characters that look like them. Like replacing "a" with "4" or replacing an "I" with "!". Also, misspellings go unnoticed, and are actually embraced in certain cases. Such as using "teh" instead of "the". When you're online, some people will threaten you by saying things like "OMG I LYKE AM GOENG TO H4X0R U!" (translation: Say there, I'm going to steal your identity old chum.). If someone says this, chances are they're what's commonly referred to as a "n00b" (pronounced "noob"), or someone who really has no idea what they're doing. As such they're nothing to fear. As for hackers, they usually have better things to do with their time than attack small home networks, so you're really ok on that account too. The people you really need to worry about are the intermediate users. the ones who know enough to be able to use the tools that hackers have made and really do some damage. The only thing about them is that the tools they're using are usually designed for a specific purpose, such as breaking through a particular type of firewall. So, if you were using a different firewall, they might not be able to break through.

All of this may make it seem like you're safe, but the truth is you can never be truly safe if you use the internet. No matter how many security measures you've taken there's always a way around them, always a back door that you've overlooked. So, overall, it's probably best to stay away from the internet all together. Go out and live with the Amish, where life is hard but simple, and information really isn't all that necessary. If this seems like a bit much, try just using the phone instead. The yellow pages are the safest search engines; I suggest you get to know them a bit better.

Look what I found! :D

Tue, 05 Dec 2006 17:11:32 GMT

I believe Xaque wrote this, found it my computer today.

WTFLOLOPWN@@@@!!!@!!@!~!~1 this keyboard is wierd and probably sucks donkey nostrils like a POOOO!!!~'

i don't like you and i don't like your mom and i don't like your dad and i don't like your brother and i don't like your sister and i don't like your cousins and i don't like your aunts and i don't like your uncles and i don't like your dogs and i don't like your cats and i don't like your turtles and i don't like your ancient egyptian mummies and i don't like your robot walrus army and i don't like your MULTITENTACLED OCTOPUS BECAUSE HE SMELLS LIKE DIRTY INK.

\TOday i will rite a book about ELFEFS. it s called TEH ELFES booK!!@ it anbout ELFSE and ELFSX andf DWANRFR!! who were in teh MIDDAL EARTSH! and tehy saw teh SORONS who was teh RINGMASTARRTRRR who P{WN!@!! you~!!!@ DIE1!!@ nonattack whot then teh LEGLOLS attacked teh SRORNn and klillled his mom1 liek death. DEATH!!!@!@!@@! tehn the DWRONGS and teh ELFSFS becoame friend and died. teh end. lol.

STFU

DIE NOOB

GOCC reunion

Sat, 02 Dec 2006 16:04:09 GMT

Great Oaks Community Church, the church I went to for 10+ years before it dissolved, is having it's reunion today! I'm really looking forward to seeing some of my old friends. Anyways, writing! This one's a poem I did for school, enjoy!

Ballad of the Ancient Goop

A mass of green was seen between the cauldron and the stirrer.
And as the green grew, the stirrer knew, he could control the goo no further.
The goop rose forth, an ooze of sorts, and with a slimy command decreed:
“You have stirred quite enough, dear stirring man, and now I shall stir thee!”
And so the goop stirred, and though the man cried, his pleas went unheard.
“Please” said the man, “continue not, for the stirring will lead to my murder!”
But the mass only laughed a goopy chuckle, and continued to stir still further.
For ten long years, the goop still stirred, never tiring from his game.
Until at last, the man's pitiful cries were heard by a traveler on the lane.
“Hark” said the traveler, hearing the noise “I do think I hear someone cry!”
So he slowly approached the stirrer's abode, and began to peer inside.
It's quite a shock, wherever you are, to see a man being stirred by some goo.
But the traveler had seen such a site before, to him it was nothing new.
He quickly produced a shaker of salt, and charged the great goo giant.
A great roar was sounded from the mouth of the goo, but the traveler remained defiant.
A battle was fought, and continued a while
with the traveler salting and the goo being vile
The battle had ended, the traveler prevailed, of course, since he usually does.
And all that remained of the vicious behemoth was a slightly slimy fuzz.
The stirrer, relieved, peered out to see what had become of the goo.
When he examined the fuzz, he could not help but let out a yell of “WOOHOO!”
“Thank you!” he cried, doing a dance (for he had been in the cauldron a while)
“I thought that surely I would be killed by that giant green putty so vile.”
The traveler replied, with a great big grin: “No problem, I haven't killed goo in a while.”

Copyright Jerald Franks, 2005

JOURNAL'D!

Thu, 30 Nov 2006 18:44:46 GMT

Greetings, citizens of the internets! Welcome to my journal, a veritable cornucopia of words, all completely void of content! Mmmyep. Lots of words. Anyways, on to the customary "reasons for making a journal".

Number one: All my friends are doing it, and popularity is key! Watch as I quickly rise through the social ranks! *bwusssssh*

Number two: It's a convenient place to dump my various writing projects, please feel free to critique them!

Number three: It's another reason to put off doing schoolwork, you can never have enough of those.

Number four: There is no number four! Feel the wave of fear wash over you as you begin question your very existence! Why would I put a number four if there is no number four? The question will torment you. It will become your only thought. It will be the demonic torturer of your own living hell! Stare, terror stricken, at the mesh of simple markings that becomes the phrase "Number four", as your very soul oozes out of your body, and a dark ether silently slips into it's place.

Now that we have that out of the way, I'll post one of my papers so you can get a feel for my work.

Fruitcake: A Deeper Look

We've all received a fruitcake at some point in our lives (these points being more numerous for some people then others), but have we ever stopped to contemplate that which is "Fruitcake"? Let's explore this mysterious creation in further depth, so we might better understand and make an educated opinion on it.

Fruitcake, the Frankenstein of the culinary world

Let's start with a standard fruitcake recipe, "English Christmas Cake":
2 Cups raisins
1/2 Cup Dried Currants
1/2 Cup Dried Apricots -- Finely Chopped
1/2 Cup Candied Cherries -- Chopped
1/2 Cup Candied Fruit Peel (Orange And Lemon
1/2 Cup Almonds -- Sliced
1 Cup Flour enriched
2 Cups Butter
1 Cup Brown Sugar
1/4 Cup Sugar
1 Tbsp Molasses
1 Orange Rind -- Grated
1 Lemon Rind -- Grated
1/4 Tsp Cinnamon
1/4 Tsp Nutmeg
1/4 Tsp Ginger
1/4 Tsp Ground Cloves
1/4 Tsp Mace
1 Tsp Vanilla Extract
5 Med Eggs
1/2 Cup Sherry Or Brandy(For Soaking Cake)
1 10 Inch Baking Pan 4 Inches Deep

This is indeed a strange food, but I could see why it makes such a popular gift. Everyone loves fruit, everyone loves cake, why not bring them together? But apparently, there's a general dislike of fruitcake. I decided to ask Roy Geoffrey, the head chef at popular restaurant, "Shwank", why he thought people didn't care for fruitcake. "I'm not sure why people are so down on it, I love it. Love making it, love eating it." Stated Roy "It's a cake and a fruit basket in one, the best of both worlds, what more could you ask for?" What more could you ask for indeed.

Where's the love for our fruity friend?

After talking with Roy, I investigated this dislike of fruitcake in further depth, and found that "dislike" is an understatement. Indeed, there seems to be an unbridled hatred for said cake. I was puzzled as to why these people hate fruitcake so much, so I asked Tina Feltawitz, president of the Lesbians and Single Mothers Against Drunk Driving and Fruitcakes (or LSADDF) why.
"Fruitcakes are the spawn of Satan, they have no nutritional value and are heavy as all get out, who the hell wants to get a 700 pound fruit brick in the mail? If you look at the facts, you'll see that people agree with me."

After hearing this, I decided to hit the streets and ask people there opinions on the matter. It turns out that more then 78% of Americans hate fruitcake, 5% didn't realize that fruitcake was for eating, and 10% began vomiting uncontrollably when the topic was mentioned. Only 4% of the people I talked to actually enjoyed fruitcake. The fact that some people didn't know fruitcake was for eating astounded me, and I began wondering what they had thought it was for.

Not for eating?

It turns out that many people have found uses for fruitcake other then eating, one person I talked to said that she puts her valuables under a fruitcake, so no one will attempt to steal them, another person told me how he had once used it to club an attacker senseless. There are several web sites on how to use fruitcake as bricks, and even turn it into mortar through an old family recipe that apparently one building company has been using for years. I even found out that there are fruitcake curling contests, in which the contestants train all year to become the best fruitcake chucker in the world. If this seems unusual, think about it, it is indeed a heavy object which would take considerable strength
to throw.

Last word

So, what is fruitcake? A holiday treat? Masonry? A theft deterrent? It all depends on how you decide to use it. Whatever you choose, you can rest assure that you'll have something to do with that man made marvel next time you receive it from your Aunt Hilda.

Copyright Jerald Franks, 2005

Sorry for the lack of indenting, evidently Livejournal dislikes paragraphs. Once again, please critique my work! That's why I put it up here!