Powered By Apathy

reason for mandatory sterilization

2006-10-25T17:44:47Z

I woke up this morning, stumbled into the bathroom, showered, towel dried and applied my deoderant…with the plastic sanitary insert all new deoderant sticks come with still in place. As I scraped the rigid plastic tong along the sensitive skin of my underarm I wondered how I had managed to survive for so long. Then I prceeded to insert my contact lenses and in the process nearly washed my lens in Veeda’s facial cleanser which looks nothing like the bottle of saline one would recomend for such a procedure. A near miss!! And I’m reminded how, weeks earlier, while preparing Thai food for a small dinner party, I finely chopped two rather deceitfully small and excrutiatingly hot thai chilies. Later, while getting ready for the party, I get out of a long hot shower and proceed to put my contacts in. For some odd reason my eye began to feel as though it had been poked with a hot pokey thing. “Hmmm … must have been the peppers I recently chopped. I better rinse my lens and try again.” That hot pokey feeling rushed back to my rememberance as I experienced it a second time. I actually tried a third time to rinse and insert my contact lens. I then determined to wear glasses for the remainder of the evening. Lucky thing I tried my contacts again the next morning or I might have forgotten that strange burning sensation that makes one want to pluck out their eye with any available instrument, no matter how ill suited for the task it might be. It took me just that long to throw out the “hot” chili flavored lens in favor of more bland version fresh out of the box. You see, I had just barely opened my last pair of contacts, and I did not want to waste one. Part moron, part cheap bastard.

In this corner, weighing 12.3 pounds. . .

2006-10-20T16:33:52Z

We recently bought a “gym” for baby Mei. I for one am really excited, because it looks like we’ve discovered a way for Mei to carry her weight around here. Often, babies are nothing more than a financial and emotional burden offering little reward and little sleep. However, Mei is already a very strong baby and with a little work in the gym I strongly believe that she can be a contender on the lauded (albeit, highly controversial) baby fight cicuit. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not about to enter her into a shady pit fight where they strap razor blades and rusty nails to the hands of babies, thow them in a closet and see which one comes out. That’s just sick, and I really don’t want any part of it unless the purse is outrageously high. I may be biased, but I’m confident that there are only a small handful of babies Mei’s age that could even compete in the same ring with her. I’ve seen a lot of babies around her age that are still having trouble holding up their heads. Mei stands up (with assistance for balance) for minutes at a time. MINUTES! And that’s at only 3 months old! According to Dr. Sears she should only be able to do so for a few moments before collapsing… by the time she’s 4 months old. Sorry, Dr. Sears but we’re way beyond that, and that’s without the bionic surgery Veeda recently persuaded me not to persue. I admit I considered entering her in the modified class for a short time. Just think about it, a baby with claws like Wolverine. Now that’s some kind of awesome. A father’s dream, really. Veeda was persuasive, though, in convincing me of the trouble Mei might have getting a date to the Prom and the far worse horror of what might happen if she happened to turn on us. Face it, babies go bad every now and then and I don’t need to give her any more weapons then she might manage to construct otherwise. Really, though, I’m convinced that her mental game might be more determining of her victories than her brute strength. She has managed to make both her parents quite nuts. Though some might argue that we had a good start. I reject your arguments. Plus, those most likely to make those arguments have not seen us since Mei was born. She’s ravaged us, id, ego and superego, and left us curled in a ball crying for our fading memories of a good night’s sleep.

Yup, this gym is a good thing. It may not only end up paying for itself, but for our therapy sessions as well.

BABY FIGHT TONIGHT!!!

more fun with lasers (sans lasers)

2006-10-18T02:29:46Z

When you get done watching the awesome I previously posted, you should go here. It’s a visual feast paired beautifully with eloquent description. Here the young artist proves that the apple truly does not fall from the tree. Likewise the narrator/father shows remarkable restraint and objectivity, allowing the work to largely speak for itself while only showing hints of his fatherly pride. And while the works really can speak volumes on their own, the accompanying narrations let you view the works as if at the very easel yourself. This is a place where you can enter the mind of the artist while simultaneously letting the art become part of you. A few minutes viewing Granteeny’s work and i find myself wanting to cover myself in blue tape and paint a picture of myself in the cast shadow. In the absence of paints, I would still enjoy being covered in tape form head to toe. Thank you G. S. Penrod, you have renewed my soul.

fun with lasers

2006-10-16T02:10:30Z

What is the best thing you could be doing with your eyes and ears right now? Watching this!!!

Disclaimer

2006-10-11T00:18:41Z

My wife would like me to let everyone know that we do not feed our baby Duncan Hines formula or formula of any kind. Our baby is breastfed. Now, stop thinking about my wife’s breasts!!!

United Nations

2006-10-09T18:01:59Z

I think i ought to file this under “junk mail poetry.” This came to my inbox with the subject line “United Nations”. I think it borrows a little too heavily from E.E. Cummings and the author wears a love for T.S. Elliot on his/her sleeve, but I see potential here. Please post you own interpretations of the artists work here.

it struggling with academic In their native format designed for the way Most importantly,

words, in real world or on the real relationship up a creek without

same problems. when he casually mentions and why everything NOT to use them). In their native In a way that lets you put about inheritance might

more complex. You want to learn about applications. You Patterns—the lessons sounds, how the Factory

Design Patterns, you’ll avoid put you to sleep! We think In their native somewhere in the world you

want to learn the you don’t want to

so that you can spend

principles will help sounds, how the Factory challenging. Something at speaking the language better at solving software

who’ve faced the the next time you’re Patterns—the lessons (and impress cocktail party guests) format designed for the way matter—why to use them,

someone struggles Singleton isn’t as simple as it Something more fun. look “in the wild”.

want to see how be wrong (and what

design problems

of Design Patterns so

(and too short) to spend with (and too short) to spend want to see how

In a way that makes you science, and learning theory,

and why everything

In a way that lets you put

matter—why to use them, about inheritance might neurobiology, cognitive between Decorator, Facade Something more fun. support in your own code.

his stunningly clever use of Command,

texts. If you’ve read a

neurobiology, cognitive Head First book, you know advantage it struggling with academic

them to work immediately. someone struggles your time is too important

Decorator is something from In a way that makes you the latest research in

you want to learn the advantage when to use them, how with Most importantly, also want to learn you want to learn the

Decorator is something from

format designed for the way Java’s built-in pattern

advantage

a book, you want (and too short) to spend

In a way that lets you put

to use them (and when will load patterns into your somewhere in the world (or worse, a flat tire), In a way that makes you

In a way that makes you the next time you’re science, and learning theory, them to work immediately. or on the real relationship (and too short) to spend the latest research in it struggling with academic In their native

of Design Patterns so

them to work immediately.

texts. If you’ve read a the same software of the best practices somewhere in the world who’ve faced the

With Design Patterns, patterns look in when he casually mentions

on your team. somewhere in the world

Something more fun. Head First book, you know advantage Something more fun.

somewhere in the world with

up a creek without

You’re not

get a load of this. . .

2006-10-07T18:13:03Z

My baby’s breath smells like cake batter. It’s probably the Duncan Hines formula we feed her. She just can’t get enough of that stuff.

A river will find a way

2006-10-04T03:16:51Z

Babies have been known to defecate in their own pants. Supposedly they have no control over their expulsive functions. Furthermore, they do little to warn you or to help you when their proverbial “cup” runneth over. Mei breached her first diaper shortly after she came home. We blamed it on the cheap huggies we got from the hospital and, to a lesser extent, on our own inexperience with diapers. [As an aside I would like to give you our endorsement to Pampers first and Luvs second; Huggies may as well be treated like the crap they fail to contain, in our experience]

Last year I had a class where we explored the concept of time and particularly the concept of instantaneous change. In a nutshell, the traditional view of time is linear and views change as occurring across time. An alternate view is that time is non-linear and that change can be instantaneous rather than requiring the passage of time. I would have to say that my experience with my little newborn gives some evidence to the non-linear view. They say it happens. You know, IT. Well, it happens all at once. There’s a wrinkle in time and suddenly there’s crap in the diaper, next to the diaper and all over the carseat. Who knew my baby girl would have power over time and space.

The first really big blowout was in San Francisco. There are not many clean public bathrooms in SF. Couple that with the absence of wipes in the diaper bag and you have me, running to the car carrying Mei like a spring roll wrapped in a changing pad. The poop was soaked in her pants, onesie, jacket and blanket. Soon, it was all over my hands as well. After some deft manuvering and several hundred wipes (always have emergency supplies in the car) the two of us were remarkably clean. The main culprit here was the meager barrier around her legs. It just couldn’t hold up.

We learned a lot about diapers and physics from that experience. Thereafter, we took extra care to ensure that the bunching around the legs was in good condition and securely fastened about her legs. What we had not considered, however, was the persistence of physics acting within the universe. We stopped up the only outlet then known to us and found, as the title suggests, that feces will find a way to prevail. The next time it went right up the back. The really cruel thing about that is that you may not realize it until you unsnap the onesie and slide your hand up your baby’s back to clear her clothing from the warzone and feel that unwelcome mess all over your hand and possibly your watchstrap. In fact, Saturday night was one of these very instances. She decided to explode in the car on the way to a friends birthday party. It was dark and I pulled over after deciding that her screaming meant more than the usual fussiness. I soon noticed that there was a slimy substance on my wrist. Mei’s skirt was infected with the waste material and there were streaks of poop the consistency of a plasma dripped upon my jacket, shirt and pants.

There’s not really much you can do to about patching up that floodgate. All you can do is hope that, next time, your spouse will have to change it. I’m usually the one who gets the really messy ones. That’s cause I’m lucky and special. Mei just had another big blowout. She surprised us this time and made it blowout in the front. The onesie is destroyed. Maybe not destroyed; I’ll have to see what shout can do once we wash it. In a few days she will probably have another explosion and one of us will have to risk contamination to rescue our daughter from her last three meals. Apparently, it’s just one of those things that comes with being a parent. Who knew something so ugly could come from something so beautiful.

Rest in Peace

2006-07-22T06:16:26Z

You we’re a good friend to my brother. Thanks for taking care of him. You will be missed here, but I’m sure Dad will be happy to see you again. Goodbye, Shiva.

Welcome Home Mei!

2006-07-20T05:32:54Z

a kick in the AC

2006-07-16T22:04:42Z

It’s hot here. In the hundreds the last four days. By the way, I don’t need a commentary on how “that’s not that bad” and so forth. I grew up in Las Vegas and was there last summer during the record breaking heat wave. I also spent time on the east coast and know plenty about more humid summers. So, with that said, kindly keep it to yourself. Anyhow, I don’t know what it’s like to be a pregnant woman in the summer, but my wife does and she’s not enjoying it one bit. With any luck she will not have to endure much more of the summer in pregnancy. Our little chubby cherub is due out this week. Perhaps the heat will get to her and she’ll wiggle her way out to cool off. Then while she’s out trying to cool off we’ll sneak up on her, cut the cord, wrap her in a blanket and call her baby. Like I said, being male, I’ve never been pregnant and I’m not really sure how this thing works. I partly suspect she’s been sneaking out of the womb at night to watch us sleep. She’ll also probably pretend that she can’t speak English for like a year or so and she’ll pretend she can’t walk so that we have to carry her everywhere. I really think this baby thing is a scam. I already know she’s smarter than me. She knows how to make her mom eat ice cream. Lot’s of it. She know’s she’ll be eating precious little ice cream for the first couple years so she’s probably trying to fill her cantene.

But I digress. My mom is coming out to help us with the new baby and she asked me if it was as hot here as it is in Texas. Probably not just as hot but it’s hot enough. Foolishly I promised her I would do what I can to cool things down before she arrives. Ah, but out of that foolishness came a brilliant idea. As you grow older you realize that your parents are not as stupid as you thought they were when you were growing up. So, a bit of parental wisdom snuck up on me as I recalled being told, “shut the door! What, are you trying to cool the outside?” Yes dad. I am trying to cool the outside. But this time it’s not just a smart remark. This is not just a plan to make Utah cooler outside for my mom’s visit; this is a plan to end global warming.

Yes, it is an inconvienient truth. I’m not entirely sure why cause I haven’t seen the movie but I’m sure Al Gore made a number of arguments for why this heat is inconvenient and he’s right. Sometimes the heat just sucks. For one thing, you have to finish your ice cream cones so fast you never get to truly savor the flavor. Sure, you can eat ice cream in the winter, but it’s too flippin’ cold for that. Also, fat people sweat a lot. I’m not even that fat and I sweat a lot. I hear it’s getting so bad that fat people are starting to sweat in the winter as well! I’m sorry but that’s just racist and it has got to stop. That’s where you come in.

What I’m calling for is a world wide movement to open all your doors and windows and crank the A.C. I know this will come at a cost but freedom always comes at great cost. Just do this with me through the month of September and then let’s step back and see what a beautiful thing we’ve created. Just think of the many way’s we will all benefit when people with unsightly varicose and spider veins are able to wear pants in the summer. I know that my quality of life would have improved dramatically if I could have lived without ever seeing my father in a pair of shorts. I still can’t look at an albino whale without thinking of my late fathers legs. I miss my father everytime I turn on Animal Planet. And just think, this doesn’t have to end with summer. We could do this again as early as November and crank up our heaters all winter long. “Yes dad, we are trying to heat the outside!”

left overs

2006-07-14T17:00:06Z

I’m too lazy to post my thoughts when they’d be timely so here is a dump of thoughts that could have been whole entries themselves (some of them) if I hadn’t waited too long to post them.

Nick Cannon? Are you kidding me? How does this kid have a career? Is there a way we can remove all of the people responsible for making him famous off to a remote island where they can make him their idiot king and the rest of us can live life a little less annoyed. He’s like a cliche machine. He’s not funny.

Boo to you U.S. mens soccer team. Extra boos to Bruce Arena. I’m sick of hearing all the sports talk radio guys talking about how they don’t care about soccer and hockey. This was your chance to show the world and your own country that you are worth bothering about. A very sarcastic thanks for meeting their expectations.

My favorite line from a crappy basic cable television show promo:

“Why don’t you go back to Heaven and leave me the hell alone!”

-From a promo to “Fallen” a new show about a fallen angel

I know that I attend a religious university but is it too much to ask that you stop singing at least to defecate? I’m sure the men’s room has the best acoustics on campus but I don’t really need to hear all 7 verses of “Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief” with every strained praise as you expel in the stall next to me. That’s not an association I’d like to have.

Speaking of the World Cup, this is the best thing I saw the whole month. I will never forget you Zidane!

Zizou video

Taylor Hicks? Are you kidding me America? I haven’t even watched the show and I know he’s going to fail. Is this some cruel joke being played on the guy or is this confirmation that most of America has no amount of discernment. Now I’ve got to see him on Conan talking about the “Soul Patrol” and singing some adult contemporary rubbish and then again on Ford commercials during the breaks. That’s a pretty good match actually. A hybrid of the most boring American car company and the most boring musical crap factory that is idol. I can’t believe more of you were watching idol than the Olympics. I blame this on the popularization of white trash culture. Foxworthy, don’t think I don’t know you had something to do with this.

Veeda has a new favorite commercial. It’s the Wendy’s commercial with the Raccoons who decide to steal a van and go to Wendy’s cause the drive thru is open late. Well, Veeda just cracks up when the van pulls up to the pick up window seemingly empty and then the raccoons pop out, grab the food and drive away. It’s become my favorite commercial to watch Veeda during.

Wendy’s Raccoons

Deadliest Catch is the new American Chopper.

Reruns of the old Cosby Show are the new Cosby Show

P. Diddy,

This Making the Band thing is killing you. I know you still tell everyone you are a hitmaker and can’t be stopped and you crap gold bricks and all that but it’s just pathetic. You are working on the sequel to your Making the Band debut so why aren’t we seeing your first band anywhere? It’s cause they sucked, right? You may hang out with Donald Trump but your street value is plunging. The girls your working with now? That song is tired, the genre is tired and those girls were embarassing to listen to. You don’t even care about music anymore do you? It’s all about posturing. I’ll be honest, I never liked you much, but you didn’t have to give me so many more reasons.

Sincerely,

Caps

P. Diddy is the new Nick Cannon.

Anniversary Eruption

2006-06-09T00:35:44Z

Veeda is convinced that we are going to have a fight before our first wedding anniversary this Sunday. Apparently she has been led to believe that this is an unavoidable universal occurance and that I am foolish for thinking we might just escape our fate. She has been bringing this up on occasion for the last month or more. So far we haven’t had any blow-ups. I honestly don’t think we’ll have this collossus that is purported to be a marriage milestone. Veeda seems anxious to get it over with, as if the anticipation is just eating her up. It’s sort of like when the doctor is honest to you about how much the needle they are about to stick you with is going to hurt and you tense up just waiting to be overwhelmed by the piercing sensation. Sometimes it doesn’t really hurt that much and they have to tap you on the shoulder to tell you that it’s over cause you’re still clenched up with your eyes closed tight waiting for that excruciating pain you’ve heard so much about. On the other hand, sometimes you react by wailing and holding your arm and screaming about how you’ll never recover from the agony now that you have a gaping hole in your arm, and the doctor has to tap you on the shoulder and tell you that he hasn’t even used the needle yet. That’s what we call a pygmalion; a self-fulfilling prophecy. Sometimes, when she brings up the fateful eruption I think we might just have that big fight… about whether or not we are going to have a big fight. Then again, it could end up like the booster shot I got when I was just a kid. The needle didn’t hurt. I was fine getting the shot, but later on it left my arm in sorry shape. We could pass through the anniversary without a hitch and heave a sigh of relief. Then, days later when we’ve forgotten the curse upon us it’ll happen. We’ll have a big stupid fight and I really will end up sleeping on the couch this time.

I suppose any one of those things could happen, but that’s why I don’t believe in Doctors anymore.

Concerning Hippies

2006-06-08T00:36:45Z

I wen to a Walkmen concert last night with my good friend Josh. As we were waiting for the opening bands to go away a hippie couple took up camp in front of us. Hippies bug me. They are unkempt if not dirty; they are always asking for change; they think drum circles are awesome, many of them are stupid high school kids who just want to smoke pot and eat hallucinogenic mushrooms and not remnants from the woodstock era; they dance really badly; they are always dancing. So, they were dancing badly in front of us and the hippie girl happened to make eye contact as her head was sort of dangling on her neck as she flopped there and she gave me that “hey man, cool band huh? Life is sooo rad” smile and went on dancing badly. If you smile at me it makes it hard for me to hate you! You are supposed to just stand too close smelling sour with hair and dirt all over your body and ask me if I have rolling paper or if I have any change! You broke the rules. That’s not cool. I can’t even be mad at you about it and that makes me furious. The next thing I know I’m watching you two dance and thinking, “I hate the way hippies dance, but that guy seems like the nicest guy in the room right now and I just can’t seem to keep a cynical thought in my head long enough to make it stick.” You’ve just messed with my worldview. Now, I have to qualify every remark I make about hippies, like:

“They’re actually pretty cool when they are too far away to smell”

“They’re actually pretty cool when they aren’t playing the damn drums”

“They’re actually pretty cool when they aren’t asking for change or rolling papers”

“They’re actually pretty cool when you pull that stick our of your butt… and beat them with it (sorry, I just can’t quite make that last statement. I’m not into beating anyone but I’m not totally reconciled with the hippie culture and I had to abort. I will probably never want to hang out with most hippies, but I don’t think it’s unfair to ask you to meet the rest of us half-way. Just work on that hygiene and work on not asking us for rolling papers and/or change all the time. I don’t like the dancing, but I think it’s kind of cool that you don’t care. We simply need some distinguishing features to be able to tell you apart from the mentally ill homeless people with whom you share so many qualities.)

one pregnant dinosaur

2006-06-02T19:21:51Z

We are on the downward slope of this pregnancy. We are anxious to meet our little girl and blindly positive about the ways her arrival will change our lives forever. One change which Veeda is anxiously awaiting is the dramatic weight loss that will come with the expulsion of her little freeloader and all of the extra things a pregnant body takes on in preparation for labor. Her belly is big and our little girl kicks like a punter. To me her belly is a smooth round wonderous orb that I like to rub for good luck and to cradle when the baby is kicking. Although it is no less miraculous to Veeda, it is far more of an inconvenience. That new girth throws her balance off, makes it hard to get up and down and makes her back ache. She could surely amass a larger list than that. Now, seven and a half months into pregnancy, she feels very big and slow. She says that she feels like a Stegasaurus. A grazing, spiky tailed dinosaur. If paleontologists want to understand dinosaurs, they really ought to speak to pregnant women. My wife understands what it feels like to BE a dinosaur.

(for the record, she still looks beautiful but refuses to believe me or the very many other people who tell her that almost daily)