People do stupid things

Yes sir-ree they do. I have this, um, friend (yeah, that's it). We'll call him Brian. Brian knows that after a long hiatus from going to the gym, he has a tendancy to overdo it when he goes back, which keeps him from going again and is counter-productive. Last week he went back for the 1st time in months and lifted weights. He took it very easy & felt good afterwards (ya know, the good soreness). Crisis averted.

Then our hero went back to the gym.

Have you heard comedian Lewis Black's bit on candy corn? It's great; he tells about he hates the stuff, but if he walks into a room and there is some candy corn in a dish, he forgets he's ever eaten it before, goes over, grabs a handful and chows down. Then 3 hundreths of a nanosecond after it's too late to stop chewing remembers he hates the stuff. That's exactly what I, I mean this Brian guy, did on trip #2 to the gym. He went in, and worked out like he'd been going for months.

Now his mouse feels like it weighs 30 pounds. And he will lose a lot of weight since he cannot lift a forkful of food. People do stupid things. I'm just sayin'.

Monday ranting

Since I'm in a bad mood from driving to work only to find the only gate i can use to get to my office locked until tomorrow, i'll jump on my soapbox for a couple of things aimed at the fairer sex.
First, for the ladies: why on Earth would you sit in a restaurant across from the guy you came in with (for breakfast, so i doubt you are starting a date at 0800 on a Sunday morning), and stare at another guy and make coy little smiles? Not polite grins, facial expressions you would use in a bar near closing time. Just wondering.
Next, i got a good laugh reading this little gem on a man-hating website. Wow, for implying you have all the answers that certainly reads a bit on the ignorant side. I'll be the first to admit that in many fields (space included), women have gotten a raw deal time and again. But you are a perfect example of screaming to be heard, not caring what you say. Your opening paragraph is correct; they did evaluate women candidates too in the early days. But they did a myriad of other tests on both sexes that to this day have no explanation (as in the late 50's they had no idea what would happen to the human body). Guess it would've been inconvenient to mention the female specific tests too. And let's say for a moment they had picked women. To climb on top of very unreliable rockets that had a nasty tendancy to blow up. What kind of support do you think the public would have offered had a wife & mother been incinerated on national TV? Keep in mind, this is the early 60's.
Anyway, reading further, i guess what you're saying is we should ignore what happened? Not study what might happen, change evaluations so you can safely mix a crew to spend 3+ years together in a tin can? Yes, the judgement will probably be somewhat unfair, but is it worth risking lives for the sake of equality? Oh, and on your listing of notable women in space: a bit presumptuous that Col. Collins is the first female in the "Universe" to command, isn't it? Or is your crusade merely confined to people here? Or maybe just Americans? Funny since the first woman in space was a RUSSIAN, and flew alone (hence was the commander of her craft), and flew 20 YEARS before the USA flew a female. And what exactly did Coleman do with Chandra, other than simply doing her job?
I have another name for you: Linda Ham. Ring a bell? I doubt it. She was one of the senior shuttle managers that decide there was no reason to worry about the foam strikes on Columbia and was the individual who denied the requests for satellite imagery and she okayed the re-entry. Let's try and be fair and balanced, shall we? Or at least let's quit framing other people as being able to walk on water.
Farther down: "most women". Not all?

I do indeed like how you close and i think it is a fine idea. Please, start a girls only space company since obviously they will never get ahead at the old boys club & head to Mars. And since most rockets are shaped somewhat phallically, i expect you will use a different shape (to do otherwise would be insulting to you, having to "ride" one of these machines to get to your destination). Can't wait to see how that flys! In the meantime, I sent your article to a few female friends of mine at NASA. Seemed to be more head-shaking than way-to-go. It's almost as if they think YOUR kind of rhetoric is a bit off-target. But what do i know. I just a stupid boy.

Poor fools...

...that get roped into spending on average somewhere in the neighborhood of $160 (according to a national news reporter) on your significant other b/c Hallmark and a fat little putz with a bow & heart-shaped-arrows who wears little pinky diapers tells you you should. There's a good message to send; give me shit or obviously you don't love me!!!

Hey, what else did you expect to hear from me today? But to show i'm not totally crass and can participate, here's a valentine from me to you...Sweetheart.

It's that time of year...

...when all the space geeks around the world bow their heads in remembrance of the 3 crews that have died in the name of space exploration. A little spooky that all 3 accidents happened within 5 days of each other on the calendar, which prompted NASA to lump them into a single event. This year marks the 40th anniversary of the Apollo 1 fire, read here if you like. Even CNN got in the "spirit" with a short video, and nasa.gov has their usual coverage on their site.
Anyway, i guess people remember these things in their own way. this year mine is typing this. personally, i keep pictures of all 3 crews near my desks, to always remind me that laziness and shortcuts, as well as being plain old stupid, can cost lives if you work in an unforgiving field.

You will all hear more about Challenger this summer, as the teacher who was Christa Mcauliffe's back-up is scheduled to fly this summer. Well, you'll hear about it if it is a slow news day.

Ad Astra, per Aspera.

It's a trick!!!

Greetz all. Sorry for those of you who missed my pointless rant a couple of days ago; it was up then disappeared. So I haven't been quite as negligent in posting as you think...

Oh a synopsis from that one: I'm not necessarily going to be as nice and cheery as i have in the past. You don't like it, don't read it. Or pucker up & aim for that brown hole right in the center of my big fat ass. And to whomever posted a comment to my last post that was pro-valentine's day: do us a favor and grow a pair, will ya?!?! I think it was an auto generated comment or something, but until you get your stones back, quit calling yourself a man.

Back on topic for today: In reading our wascally Captain's post from earlier, I was glad to know someone's brain somewhere in the world was working today (mine wasn't). He once again put forth a question to make our brains churn a bit and ask a hard hitting question. If you haven't read his yet, please do so now. Here's the spoiler: It is a trick question, because if you are like 99.9% of the population, you don't know the answer!!! And most of you who THINK you know it are lying to yourselves.
I've asked myself that repeatedly over various periods of my life. I'm in one of those now, so I am taking the 5th, at least for a while. I've been in or overheard discussions of part a) of his question, and the vast majority of people with quick answers are very much FULL OF SHIT. You have an answer in your hip pocket to throw out there if someone asks so you don't seem full of self doubt and are wandering aimlessly. The sad fact of the matter is most people can't (honestly) answer part a), so any response to part b) is moot. Personally I think that a good chunk of this "life" thing is finding that answer. Some lucky souls do answer it quickly, most never get there. Some know why they get up, but they don't do anything about it/for it/ towards it, in the case of a goal not yet realized. But most plod along, fooling themselves into another day in the rat race, another day fulfilling obligations that may or may not matter.

Don't misunderstand: you need an answer of some description. Otherwise, if you can't come up with an answer you are probably going to have an Egg McMagnum for breakfast. My point is make sure it's the RIGHT answer. Don't settle for a convenient one. Once you know it, DO something for it. Don't wait until you're about to kick the oxygen habit and then say "wow, what a waste" or look back and wonder "what if". It'd be a shame if your parting thoughts were about you didn't live your life as if it were YOUR life.

Or why you didn't use the cold cup of coffee Capt D threw in your face as a wake up call to think and act. Missing out on these doors that get opened for you are why you're asking the questions in the first place.

Make no mistake. You're in the driver's seat. More on that later.
Now continue banging your head on the table.

Oorah!

Alright you people, there is a birthday/anniversary tomorrow you should know about:
On 10 November 1775 the Second Continental Congress passed a resolution to raise 2 divisions of Continental Marines to act as a landing force for the fleet in the War for Independance. A couple of weeks later"a few good men" got together at Tun Tavern and signed on for the job. And, with the exception of a VERY brief period after the War, the Marine Corps has been kicking ass and taking names ever since.

Tomorrow marks the 231st birthday of the USMC, and I'm sure there'll be plenty more as the are one of the last organizations that produce hard people in a soft age, always willing to fight and defend their God, their country and their Corps no matter the cost. Concepts like "quitting", "retreat", "giving up", and "weakness" aren't even in their vocabulary.

I think Eleanor Roosevelt put it best in 1945: "The Marines I've seen around the world have the cleanest bodies, the filthiest minds, the highest morale, and the lowest morals of any group of animals I have ever seen. Thank God for the United States Marines Corps!"

So everyone raise a glass & sleep well knowing you are protected by the finest fighting force in the world. Now that I've wasted 90 seconds of your lives, CARRY ON! And for those out there in the esteemed readership who have ever worn & served under the EGA: Semper Fidelis, Devil Dogs!

Wave goodbye to our technical prowess

Hello all. It’s been far too long since I’ve dropped by to say hello and ramble incessantly. Err, I mean contribute.
Since there are plenty of mainstream topics to read about on the Net (i.e. who’s having babies where, whose team is doing well in a certain soccer tournament, whose widdle feewings got hurt by a columnist, etc.), I’ll insert a small alternative (and way less newsworthy) topic, mainly to go on the record for predicting something I hope never happens.
Every day there are stories in the news that involve technology. Not as the subject, just a part of the story. Take the recent activities of our pals in Iran. It’s newsworthy because of the ramifications to our world if they do indeed achieve nuclear capabilities (and rightfully so). But what is at the source of this controversy? Technology. As in who has it and who is doing what to advance it for their own gains or for humanity in general.
The world has always been “led” (for lack of a better word) by those who had technical ability on their side. Look at any battle or war before the Industrial Revolution. There were many components to a successful military (lots of troops, smart leaders), but what gave people the edge? Yup. Whether it was a Trojan horse or gunpowder or communications, that’s it. And technology tends to spread. Ancient Rome had more engineering marvels than is easy to comprehend, which made living there seem indeed like Heaven on Earth. And where did many of their advances come from? Do a little reading and you’ll find the impetus to move armies across water did more for bridge technology than just wanting to cross a river to get across town.
So lets fast forward to the 20th century. On the whole, the US was easily the world leader in technological advances. We had the first airplanes, computers, the list goes on. We raced the Soviets to the moon mainly to establish our pre-eminence as THE technological superpower. The Space Race, one could argue, was the biggest physical battleground of the Cold War. So we were doing alright.
Now, present day. There is a very big misconception that we are still the world leader in technology. Enlightened people know that we aren’t, that we compete on a global stage, and lately we’re not very successful. One of the biggest historical areas of hi-tech is aerospace and aeronautics. Advances here have (and probably will continue) to rapidly spread across other technical disciplines. The computer you are reading this on would (in all likelihood) not exist were it not for trying to make computers smaller and reliable for airplanes/spacecraft. Sure it would’ve come along eventually, but certainly not have had the financial resources to get started/advance as quickly as it did.
Where am I going with this? A myriad of reports have been hitting the market that basically say the US is no longer the world leader in this field and has very little hope of even staying in the game. Read this and this and this (an opinion piece but on the right track) and see what the future could hold. I hope we make a rebound; I don’t see it soon.
Consider this: you remember the big port “scandal” a couple of months ago, with having foreign interests control our ports? That story greatly overshadowed a deal that was signed with UAE to fund and build a commercial spaceport. These events happened literally within days of each other. Please note that one of the big supporters is Space Adventures Ltd, which is an AMERICAN company based in Va. The American spirit of building a business is alive and well; what will happen when it is alive and well overseas, being funded by aggressive American businesses? It won’t be tomorrow and I sincerely hope I’m wrong; I think that we are going to have to get used to being mediocre in an arena we can’t afford to slack in.
So maybe it is appropriate I’ve chosen to write this after we showed how plain we can be in the World Cup. Air and space technologies will start to be led by other cultures and people. Things like missiles. And spaceships (China seems to be on the right track). Let’s pray some other folks don’t choose to put things on the tips of those missiles (that they bought in a free market) that make pretty mushroom clouds. I’m trying not to sound like an alarmist, but is it possible that we are at the precipice of a tech downfall?
Sarge

Chocolate baby!

Here we go again. It’s Monday and I’m beat from a weekend of chain-gang style labor in my yard, but it’s a tired with a great sense of satisfaction. There is so much more to do, but it will have to wait.

So I have to say a bit about the New Orleans Mayoral race. Much like the rest of the country, I was shocked that Ray Nagin not only won, but by a fair amount over his opponent. I say shocked because for a while I was placing faith in a place I had no business placing it, in the ability of people to open their eyes and recognize truth. Even with his ‘constituency’ largely still sponging off of other people in other cities, Nagin was able to pull himself up and maintain his grip on the lives of those trying to rebuild the Big Easy.

Just so we’re clear on this: I don’t hate Ray Nagin. I don’t think he’s an evil man. But I do recognize that he’s largely inept when it comes to leading a city; and by that I mean he’s got the blood of thousands on his hands. His mistakes during Katrina put him in the hot seat on the national stage, and allowed him to show his true colors. When pushed, the once successful cable television executive drew himself up and delivered a diatribe that would have cost any white man his political career.

Still unapologetic, he smirks and banters with reporters, the veritable cat that ate the canary. But now he’s had a taste of fame, national fame, and that’s a drug not easily kicked. In other words I expect we’ll all be hearing much more from the newly re-elected mayor of New Orleans.

I also wanted to highlight for you a bit of his outlook on those he chooses to lead. When asked what he would do if the business owners in New Orleans who threatened to move away if he was re-elected made good on their promise, he said this:

"Business people are predators. If the economic opportunities are here, they're going to stay. If not, they're going to leave," he said. "God bless 'em,

Now, isn’t that a great start to another term as mayor? Your city is in rags, few have returned to rebuild, and you begin your term by calling those who’s taxes pay for your private car ‘predators’ and say that you don’t care if businesses leave your city. If this is, in fact, his true outlook, I predict dire times for not just the 9th ward, but the whole of the Crescent City.

I’m just glad I had a chance to see it before he began destroying it.

Tune in and listen...

Today I’m going to keep it light since it should be “Good Life Friday”. This weekend shows promise as I get to do another full day in the yard, clipping, cutting, burning and catching time in my new hammock when I can. Sunday I get to participate in what is arguably the strangest yet most addictive wastes of time invented…golf.

I’m no golfer, but I do enjoy swinging clubs and crushing golf balls off the tee, no matter which direction they go. Whit’s company is having their spring picnic and they do a golf outing before hand, so I’ll be sucking up a blue streak in front of all her piers. What could be better on a Sunday afternoon than embarrassing yourself in front of all your wife’s co-workers.

Ok, back to the good stuff. Today I want to talk classical music. As a child I was exposed by my parents to two types of music that have shaped my life in more ways than I can count. Classical and Jazz. My father is the culprit here, having seen many of the legends of jazz live in concert in Atlanta in the 40’s, he began plying my ears with Ella Fitzgerald, Stan Getz, Charlie Parker, Louis Armstrong, George Gershwin, Monk, Goodman, Ellington, Coltrane, Herman and so many more that it would be pointless to list them, but you get the point.

In much the same way he exposed me to the great classical (and modern) composers. Bach, Brahms, Mozart, Handel, etc. I always listened to classical while I did my homework because it calmed my ever racing brain and relaxed me into a state of well being that I still find while listening. In time I began looking for more music, expanding my own horizons into more modern orchestral areas. This brought Grofe’, Prokofiev, Copeland, Dvorak, Shostakovich and other hard to spell names….But seriously, by the time I was 11 and choosing an instrument to play in band, these two types of music had shaped me to such an extent that the choice was already made. I began playing the saxophone in 5th grade and play it to this day (though not as much jazz as I’d like). I also picked up the drums, the clarinet, piano, and to this day I fail miserably at the guitar. But I love to play, no matter how bad I am, it always brings me peace.

I can honestly say that music is responsible for my life’s direction, and much of the happiness I’ve known. Being a part of a musical group has allowed me to see places and be a part of events that I otherwise would never have been able to even see on TV.

So today’s Good Life is dedicated to music. I hope that you all are able to find the peace and happiness in music that I find. Below I’m listing a few of my all time favorites, the songs that really take hold of me and don’t let go until the last note fades into ether…

My all time favorite:
Appalachian Spring, by Aaron Copeland. (I like the Leonard Bernstein recording best) This song puts me into a trance like state from which its nearly impossible to wake, but I listen to it constantly and have since my teens. The last three minutes are the most beautiful requiem to a piece of music I’ve ever heard… worthy of tears.

The Planets by Gustav Holst. I love this music because it’s raw, powerful, and narrative. In writing this suite, Holst made movie music before movies really had music. The powerful use of the low brass and strings is a punch in the chin that makes me (nerd I know) crank the volume every time Mars comes up.

Fanfare for the Common Man by Aaron Copeland. I know, I’m stuck on Copeland, but he is my favorite after all. Fanfare is one of those pieces that puts very distinct images into my head. It reminds me of the first time I saw the monument to Iwo Jima in Washington D.C. I was 13 years old, and appropriately in D.C. on a band trip. We were visiting Arlington that day and seeing the Vietnam Wall and other war monuments. I walked off by myself (because that’s what I do) and wandered up upon the statue of those men raising the flag on Mt. Suribachi. I had a mix tape in my walkman that just so happened to have Fanfare on it. Well, it was like something out of a movie. It was dark, the spotlights were shining on the monument, I’m all by me onesee listening to Fanfare for the Common Man, staring at this statue of soldiers hoisting the American Flag together. I think I must have just stared at the thing for over an hour. Up to that point I wasn’t very patriotic, never thought about politics, the military, and precious little about our country’s history. That began to change that night. To this day whenever I hear that piece of music I picture soldiers, doing what they do. If that’s all the song makes me think about, then that’s enough.

Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin. This guy played rock and roll piano before it was invented. This piece is bright lights – big city combined with classical orchestration that reels like a roller coaster. Short, quiet hills followed by big, roaring down-hills with piano and horn runs that leave you dizzy (especially if you play and know how difficult some of them are at speed)

Ode to Joy by Beethoven. This piece is just classic. Pure sound, big and full. We played this at our wedding as we were walking out…it just fit.

Adagio for Strings by Samuel Barber. This piece is one of those that stops you in your tracks if you’re moving, and hypnotizes you if you aren’t. I love this piece because it illustrates the power of the human voice to create music unlike any instrument man can create. I had the pleasure of hearing this piece played by a large orchestra (about 67 pieces) many of whom are in the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra. A church we attended had a musical program in their main sanctuary and had many of its members who played orchestral instruments provide the music. They also had their full choir on hand (about 120 people) For a little background, this is the single largest Presbyterian congregation in the country. The Sanctuary is huge, and acoustically wonderful. We were lucky enough to get seats about 7 rows back from the stage. I was excited to hear this piece live but I had no idea what I was in for. For those of you who are familiar with the work you’ll understand my description. The lights were slightly dimmed and the air was thick and quiet. The conductor raised his baton and ever so slightly nudged it forward and down, so slowly that it probably wasn’t perceptible from more than 15 rows back. With this began what is my favorite thing about live classical music: The violins slowly pulling the first notes of the piece from the strings. For those of you who have never heard this live and close up, it almost sounds like breath. Soft and airy, pure in tone and shuddering just a bit so that it really does resemble a whisper. Multiply that by about 25 and you have the strings playing these first notes. I can’t even describe what the sound did in that church, but it was ethereal. By the end of the piece even the small children in the crowd were dead silent and still. Knowing what his group had accomplished, the conductor held the last note until it simply drained away into silence, and held his baton up for another 10 or 15 seconds after, just to keep the crowd in thrall. It took him lowering his arms, turning towards the crowd and nodding his head for anyone to dare clap and break that silence. After that there was about a 5 minute standing ovation…and that was just the first song.

Ok, well, I’ve written a small novel and haven’t even scratched the surface of the jazz side of my picks, so I’ll leave that for tomorrow. Until then I wish you all happy listening.

Capt.

Burnin' down the house...

Ok, so I found something to comment on in the news today. It’s a local thing but it’s far reaching as far as U.S. politics go, so I’m sure you’ll all know the key players in this one.

From this article in the AJC:

Former Democratic State Representative Wyc Orr (no that’s not an abbreviation, that’s his name) is recommending that Zell Miller be kicked out of the Democratic party on account of his ‘shilling’ for Republicans at present and for the last few years. While I understand his position and truly feel for his pain (can’t you see the tears?) I think he’s missing a great big fat hairy point here, and he’s not alone.

For years now the denizens of the Democratic party have been leaning hard on the helm, steering their party ever left of center, ever farther away from the will and want of hard working Americans. Much like his party, Mr. Orr is sitting at his desk with his hands over his ears, yelling “la la la la la I CAN’T HEAR YOU” with his eyes firmly shut, hoping the voices of reason will just cease altogether…voices like Zell Miller’s.

Having grown up in Georgia I was in what you might call my formative years when Zell was the governor of our fine state, and an ardent Democrat to boot. He was adept at the game, moving here and there on issues, getting the ones he really wanted pushed through whether they were in the people’s best interest or not. He was so good at this he even garnered himself a nick-name: Zig-Zag-Zell. I remember my father listening to him on the news and rolling his eyes, telling me that I needed to go to school and read as much as I could every day so that people like him couldn’t fool me with their lies. Well, I’ve tried to take that message to heart, and apparently so has Zell.

Ever since 911 the country has polarized as never before. While it was fashionable and politically necessary, even the hardest leftists raised their hands and joined in the battle cry to put down this new threat. And then, as expected, they began to peal off a few at a time, looking for ways to further their own agendas by undermining the efforts of those who fought and fight for our freedom and protection. Much to his credit, Zell Miller recognized this and took umbrage…publicly. In 2004 he gave his own party members a tongue lashing at the Republican National Convention that raised the eyebrows of many on both sides. Suddenly in the media at large Zell was no longer the respected elder statesman of the Democratic Party, he was a crotchety old fart, spewing bitter rage and senility.

This surprised no one who understands the left’s tactics when it comes to media manipulation. When you are of use you’re held up on a pillar and showered with praise…when you aren’t of use or *gasp* even dare to speak against them you’re dragged through the mud by any means available. For the last 6 years the Democratic party has made an art out of discrediting its detractors. Any party that can blast a sitting President for liberating a tortured people from a mass murdering dictator while simultaneously white washing their last President’s debouched double term should stick with show biz and leave out the politics, they’d go further.

What Mr. Orr and millions like him might want to try is listening for a while. When one of your own stands in front of your house and tells you its on fire, even if you don’t smell the smoke, you should probably check to make sure before you call him an idiot. If you’re right, then no harm done, but if you’re wrong, and you failed to listen, then you burn…


Burn baby burn….

Well looky here...

Well it’s about time. I can’t remember the last time any arm of the main stream media reported on good news on the front page (well, the headline on the internet page anyway). This morning’s happy surprise was brought to us by none other than the good ‘ole staple of southern liberal living: the AJC (That’s Atlanta Journal and Constitution for those not in Ga.)

This story is close to my heart for many reasons, one of which is that I live just a few miles from the high school that these boys attend. Since the AJC online requires a registration, I’ll copy the important parts…

It was nearly dusk on Florida's San Destin Beach, with red flags warning of rip currents, when a woman approached three Centennial High School seniors and asked them to help her boys get back to shore.

The young men, Kyle DeLapp, Steven Gartner and Hooman Nourparvar, all 17, were playing Frisbee on the beach on the first Saturday in April as part of a spring break trip. They looked out beyond the breaking waves and saw four kids, three boys and a girl ages 9 to 12, according to interviews.
Although they had not planned to swim that day because of the warning flags, the Centennial classmates stepped into the water without a thought to the danger they were walking into. Two of them, DeLapp and Nourparvar, had training in water safety.

As the three teens walked toward the kids in the cold, choppy water, they discovered a steep drop-off just as they reached them. The younger children had begun to scream for help. The older boys realized the rip current was quickly sweeping them all out to sea.

Doesn’t it do your hearts good to know that there is still courage and self sacrifice in teenagers these days? Let’s put the scene together so you can see what I’m seeing:

This is dusk on a beach where people (except three brilliant little kids) are not swimming because of rip tide warnings. I’ve been to Sandestin many times and I know the currents there are nasty. And when the currents are nasty the wind usually is too. So you’ve got a beach with not a lot of people, sketchy lighting and weather, and three high school kids playing frisbee. Why am I pointing this out? Because it illustrates just what happened on that beach. The three boys were asked to help, to put themselves in a very dangerous situation, and did so without thought. There were no bikini clad hotties looking on to pump up their need to perform stupid and dangerous stunts, there were no cameras to record their deeds and make them famous for 15 minutes, it was just one scared mother, asking for help.

Anyone living on this end of the country (and I’m sure in other places as well) who goes to the beach is familiar with the concept of a ‘rip tide’ or current. They get particularly nasty with spring and fall tides in the Gulf and have the ability to sweep hundreds of people five miles out to sea in a matter of minutes. So these boys probably knew what waited for them in that water, but they went anyway.

Sheesh, doesn’t it sound like I’m sycophantically waving my arms here? Maybe I am, but I’ve been in these situations before, several times actually, and I’m just impressed that there are still some kids left in this generation who have the stones to act when called upon.

Maybe there is hope for America’s future yet.

Off we go...

Well, I'm weighing anchor and heading south for the week to attend the hitchin' of some dear friends in Key West.

Pictures and descriptions to follow...


As you were.


Captain.

Listen!....do you smell something?

So today was today, and today was good. Woke up and worked outside, made the back yard a bit more like a yard and a bit less like half an acre of Borneo. Working outside brings me out of my head for a while, lets me smell and see and hear and touch without analyzing everything, and that’s good. Growing up on land with animals, yard work, and quiet woods put a good sense of calm into me that I rely on from time to time when I’m surrounded by cars, people, cell phones, people, computers, oh and people. Sometimes I forget how nice it can be to just shape nature around you. Luckily our yard has quite the mind of its own and has prodigiously found its way into places it shouldn’t be, thus providing me with days and days of communal pruning, chopping and digging.

But not for a while, for there is travel ahead and I must make ready to live my days as a beach bum.

There, all done, I’m ready. Now I just have to pack and I’m off.

Brain not functioning, must sleep. Write more tomorrow.

But, like any good Captain I’ll leave you all with some lovely words to enjoy, some of you may even recognize them.

Take my love, take my land
Take me where I cannot stand
I don't care, I'm still free
You can't take the sky from me
Take me out to the black
Tell them I ain't comin' back
Burn the land and boil the sea
You can't take the sky from me
There's no place I can be
Since I found Serenity
But you can't take the sky from me...

Saturday Night feverless...

Sitting on the couch, being the wild individual I’m want to be whenever Saturday rolls around. Wife is out gallivanting with friends downtown and I’m left to my devices for a few hours. This, unfortunately, is not the clanging sound of an opening jail cell as it is for so many other married men. Nay, tis but the call of the dodo bird, the Tasmanian wolf, and the carrier pigeon. What’s that you say? None of these animals exist anymore on this earth? Quite right. And therefore their collective call is nothing but silence. Pure, sweet, unfettered quiet. Not that Whit brings about chaos and noise when she’s here, but she’s far more active than I and while conscious requires either a stereo or a TV be on at all times. I, on the other hand, tend to seek a quiet corner in which to think when the opportunity presents itself, and tonight is rife with opportunity.

Thus, I’ve been thinking about many things. Surprisingly enough none of them are the newsworthy items one would expect to see me commenting on, so if you’re in my neighborhood of the web looking for topicality, turn back now and save yourself some neurons. I’ve been cleaning out my mental closets in preparation for Key West next week. You see, whenever I take a trip to what I like to call “Home” (not just the Keys, really any place where land meets ocean in a tropical or sub-tropical climate) I like to do so with as little baggage as possible – mentally speaking. I’m of the opinion that our world doesn’t afford us the quiet time necessary to properly process the amount of information we’re bombarded with each day. As such I find it nice to purge my brain of the detritus as often as possible. Anyone who finds themselves unable to cope with things around them should try this from time to time. If it sounds too sketchy to say you sit around in a low lit room with no noise except your own breathing, just do what Asian martial arts masters have been doing since 4000 B.C.: Call it meditation.

Items of interest:

Let’s see, what do I have to tell that anyone would care about.

Nope, sorry, I got nothin’.

Oh, I did see an interesting movie last night on recommendation from one of Whit’s friends. It’s called “Ginger Snaps”. A cute little tail about two sisters, one 15 one 16 in Ontario who are obsessed with death and suicide until the older one is attacked and bitten by a werewolf and begins to change into one herself. Much of the movie is campy, not surprisingly, in the way you would expect a teen aged horror flick would be. But there are things about this movie I found wonderful. While the cast was limited as far as the Hollywood ‘A’ list is concerned (the only actor I recognized was Mimi Rogers, who convincingly played the girls’ clueless mother), the actors did an admirable job of pulling off some scenes that, in many movies, can prove impossible to do convincingly.

One particular example is the high school scene. Unlike most of the films we see these days where everyone in the school is a ‘type’ and each stereotype is duly represented in some sick homage to diversity, this movie shows kids as they are: Awkward, unsophisticated and driven by simple ideas and urges. (If it sounds like I’m insulting high school aged children I’m not, I’m not that far out of high school and I still remember myself at that age.) High school aged kids work on a much different level as adults and as such aren’t given to the well thought out soliloquies delivered by the cast of Dawson’s Creek on a weekly basis. I appreciate it when a writer and director have the forethought to write a 15 year old like a 15 year old. Simple, I know, but rare in most movies.

Another thing I appreciate are the horror scenes. Though the effects budget for this movie probably rivaled the daily sales figures at an all you can eat steak house in Bombay, they made the most of the actor’s ability to be scared by something I could have made in camp when I was ten. Call it trite, but when an actor can suspend their own reality enough to convincingly convey not only terror but the confusion that comes with seeing something like a werewolf for the first time enough to suspend my belief that the paper mache ‘monster’ is actually real, I’m impressed.

All in all, the movie was fun. The ending was a bit weak, but you can’t have everything.

Well, my buddy Ron White is on the television (which is no longer muted) and I feel the urge to eat popcorn and laugh at some really funny stuff, so I bid you all good night.



Capt.

Those ten things...

1. Solitude. Being away from everything human, everything created by humans, no noises that don’t come from nature, no words, just pure blessed silence.

2. Water – Long wide expanses of water. Oceans, lakes, rivers. The sound of water, rushing, waving, lapping at the hull of my boat. The crashing of waves putting me to sleep and waking me in the morning. The gentle swishing sound when I swim. Water goes with solitude…people can’t talk underwater… this is a good thing.

3. Eyes. People sometimes underestimate the power of eye contact. The human eye can say more than words could ever hope to say in one millionth the time. Eyes convey thoughts, feelings, and truth. They are the only single source of two way communication we as humans are afforded.

4. Imagination. The power of the human mind to rise up beyond reality and convention, to surpass what we know in favor of what could be. In imagining we give birth to characters in books, lands and creatures we’ll never see here on earth, and lives we will never live, but may still be a part of if we so choose.

5. Promises kept. From the simplest to the eternal, a promise kept is a sure footing in every situation.

6. Music. I’m of the opinion that music is the original means by which all sentient life on this planet could be controlled. If you ever question the power of music simply take it out of any situation where emotion, especially high emotion is involved. Would movies be half of what they are with no score? Would Jaws have been so terrifying without his requisite two note calling card? Would we all have shed a single tear for ET upon his departure had John Williams not been so skilled in writing for French horn? Never underestimate the power of music, for good or evil. Lucifer himself was the angel of music after-all.

7. Truth. Veritas, 真相,Waarheid, Vérité, Wahrheit, Αλήθεια, Verità, Правда, Verdad.
Whatever word you use, truth is that which cannot be denied, cannot be destroyed, and will always come forth, even over millennia. Truth is the ultimate reality. There is not existence without truth, because truth is fact, truth is what IS. We know that gravity IS because we don’t float away from the planet. Gravity is truth on Earth. Truth is painful, but only as painful as the band-aid being removed. Truth brings healing, forgiveness, and happiness to those who seek peace. Truth also allows us to know evil when we see it, because evil will never tell the truth when it can lie instead.

Here are some examples of truth shedding light on lie:

Al Gore DID NOT invent the internet

Ted Kennedy IS responsible for the death of a young woman

Diversity for the sake of diversity is foolish, and only leads to weakness

I could go on, but this is just not the time or place.

8. Books –The written word is responsible for who we are as humans. Were we all to disappear tomorrow and another life form visit the Earth, were they to understand our written languages they would know us. Our beliefs, our hopes, our dreams, our knowledge. In this time more than any other the power to read and write surpasses the power to kill and heal. In the information age the quick and the dead differentiated by the mind, not the sword.

9. Pets. The idea that we can communicate to other creatures without words and receive ten times the love we give, in many cases without disserving it, should be a lesson to us all.

10. Freedom. I don’t think many of us know what it is to live without freedom, in any way. But I’m fairly sure that were any of us to lose it overnight we’d notice. I love that I can get in my car and drive as far as I wish in any direction I wish without notifying anyone. I love that I can quit my job and sell fruit by the roadside if I so desire, and no one can stop me.


There you have it. I’m punchy today so I’m sure this isn’t as whimsical as it could be, but such is life.

I hereby tag:

Whit
Sarge
Russ
and
Dave D.

Friday...

Hello kiddies, and happy Friday. For the last few days I have been all that is busy and have neglected my beloved readers… Unlike Ted Kennedy, I apologize.

Much has happened and is happening in our world. Let’s all take the time to breath deep the free air and let go of the stress from Monday through Thursday…


There, that’s better.

I really don’t feel like muck-raking today so I’ll just supply you with a few treasured song lyrics and quotes that make me smile. If you have any you like please comment them on over, I love new ones.

“The woods are lovely, dark, and deep
But I have promises to keep
And Miles to Go Before I sleep
And Miles to Go Before I sleep” -Robert Frost

“But the road was long and home was far
So I stopped off at this little cowboy-looking bar
I walked on through the door and she just smiled
In a long pony tail and a pretty white dress
She said hi bull riders do it best
I said oh my God what's your name
My name's Lyle” Lyle Lovett – Give Back My Heart

“Save a baby seal...Club a liberal”


“Save the Wales…for last, they’re great for dessert.”

“We must hang together, or surely we shall hang separately” - Ben Franklin.

“It’s ok to kiss a fool, it’s ok to let a fool kiss you, but never let a kiss fool you”

(This next one explains most liberal academians)

“Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not. Nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not. Unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not. The world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence, determination and hard work make the difference.” -- Calvin Coolidge


"Knowledge talks, wisdom listens"

And with that I leave you to your weekend. I hope it’s a good one.

As for me, I’ll be attending a friend’s bachelor party tomorrow… I promise to post the mug shots if there are any….


As you were.


Captain.

Landfall again...

Top ‘o’ the morning to one and all, yer Captain has returned. I bring tales of sunshine, salt air, and crustaceans to temp the senses…and pictures to back it all up. If you hear me softly weeping as I recount my adventures this Easter weekend it’s because I’m sitting here at my desk, 300 miles land locked once more.

Friday was fast, I worked half a day and ran home to pack and escape with all speed, trying to avoid the Friday Atlanta rush hour (which I forgot lasts from 7 am to 8 pm on most roads). We were packed and out the door by 2, Millie the pirate dog in tow, ready for a nice weekend with the fam. It took us an hour to get outside Atlanta metro, but once out we averaged about 88 miles an hour straight through. Once in Mt. Pleasant we stopped off at the cigar store by Whit’s dad’s house to acquire the requisite smokables and offerings to the father in law. Many good sticks were purchased.

Then it was on to the homestead to pick up Whit’s father and make for the Isle of Palms with all speed. We met some friends who have recently moved to James Island (lucky buggers) and found a cozy, if not overly touristed eatery called the Banana Cabana. The name was hokey, the atmosphere was part grungy townie, part flabby tourist, but the Yuengling was cold on tap and the food was delicious. For my part I had a fried oyster po’ boy and fries, and of course a couple of ice cold Yuenglings to help wash it down. We sacked out a bit early for our age, but the long day on the road had taken its toll.

Saturday we woke early and showered, then took Millie the pirate dog out to the canal for a morning swim. In the past she would be in the water before we could catch her to put her life jacket on her, but this time she’s got much shorter hair, and the sun wasn’t yet scorching the land, so she was hesitant to jump until she saw a leaf float by. Something in her wily dog brain cannot allow any leaf to float in water unmolested, she’s obliged to dive in and snap it up like a furry little shark. After a few dives and retrievals we dried her off and went inside to greet the parents.
We all agreed that an early lunch would be better than a late breakfast so we headed forthwith to our first destination of the morning, Charlestown Landing. For those who aren’t familiar with the area, Charleston is in fact the second such settlement of that name (minus the American slanging of the word Charlestown). The first is now inside a national park and protected from development. This is probably for the best since they still haven’t found it all. The site is still an active archeological dig, which I find fascinating. Too bad I don’t have an archeology degree and time to waste. The weather was beautiful so we spend just under 2 hours roaming the grounds, looking at the recreated battlements and buildings. There’s even a model of the first ship that brought the first Charles-townies to the area. Built in the early 1970’s it’s now in dry dock, spending its last few months and years rotting away in the weather. They’re building a new model, however, right beside the old one and should be done by year’s end. They’re sticking with the traditional building methods as much as possible, which is great (especially for purists like meself).



After we left the landing we headed for Folly beach, hoping to cash in on some tasty crab legs and surf shop browsing. It became apparent very quickly though that the floodgates had been opened and every yokel from Wilmington to Jacksonville was lined up past the bridge, feet hanging out the window, Dale Earnhardt tank tops billowing in the breeze, creating a 3+ mile traffic jam. We quickly hove to and headed for downtown Charleston, landing at the King Street Grill. I continued my po’boying activities with a shrimp sandwich and waffle fries. Again, good crustacean and cold beer. I was two for two. We walked about after lunch, visiting some old haunts, Half Moon Outfitters, Margaritaville, and the like. We skipped back home to pick up Millie and take her to the beach for some further swimming activates. She wasn’t quite as gung ho as she is with still water, but I think she enjoyed the surf a bit. The sun was heading off west and the wind was cooling so we short shifted our beaching activities in favor of dinner. Our destination for the evening feeding was a small place on the edge of Shem Creek (way back in the middle of nowhere) called The Wreck. We waited a little less than an hour, sitting on the dock, watching the sky go from blue to pink to purple and finally starry black. The sand gnats were already out and feasting, so we slathered all of our exposed skin with the fisherman’s magical liquid of life, otherwise known as Avon Skin So Soft. With the no-see-ums in check we had a lively time just people watching and enjoying the evening by the sea. Dinner came in the form of she crab soup and a combo platter of crustaceans; multiple, fried and domestic. Great shrimp, big plump oysters and sweet scallops lulled me into the friendliest of food comas and set the stage for the rest of the evening spent on the back porch back at the house, enjoying a nice Fuente Fuente Opus X.

Sunday morning we were up and dressed and off to Easter Service at the in-law’s church called Seacoast Church (a non denominational). It was much fun and even had a bit of unexpected excitement. We were sitting in the middle about four rows back, about 20 feet from the stage when over to stage left we saw a commotion. It looked like someone was falling down, and at a closer glance reaching down and I heard a noise that sounded like electricity popping, so I figured a chord had grounded out and was popping and the usher was disconnecting it. How wrong I was. A snake had gotten into the room and was trucking along in front of the lilies that lined the stage. The usher had seen it and quickly grabbed it and removed it. People gasped and oohed and ahhhed and even laughed. The preacher, a good natured and quick witted man, quickly began laughing and shook his head saying “Well, we don’t usually handle those in this church, but at least our ushers are well trained”. This fit the mood perfectly and everyone laughed and refocused on the service. All in all it was wonderful and cheery. After church we again headed downtown to an Easter Brunch at the Magnolia, a fantastic restaurant specializing in Southern Cuisine. Lunch consisted of some of the best blue crab bisque I’ve ever tasted, some braised chicken livers in a caramelized onion and pancetta sauce, and then the coup de gras, a fried softshell crab BLT. Everything was fresh and as tasty as could be. After filling up on all the wonders of the Magnolia I popped over to the Smoker’s Lamp to pick up a couple more sticks for the road. We walked around the pier and enjoyed the day a bit more before heading back to the house to pack and say our goodbyes. We were on the road by 4:30 and back home by 10. I’m still confused about what to eat for lunch as I don’t have any seafood readily available to me and I’ve eaten nothing but crustacean for three days….but I’ll survive.

This little vacation has been a while coming and was all too short, but still much appreciated. For now I hope you’ve enjoyed reading my clumsy synopsis of a beautiful weekend, by mid-week I should be back to my ranting form. For now I’m just going to sit back, close my eyes, and pretend the shrill voices of my co-workers are seagulls, and the air conditioner is the ocean wind.

Here’s to better days, and other days spend dreaming about them…


Captain.

Katie Bar the Door...

So after looking at my previous post I realized that I’ve probably been unhealthily internalizing things for a while now with work being so busy and no respite except sleep, and very little of that.

So tonight I won’t rant. Heck, I won’t even mention anything inflammatory.

Instead I’ll share my good fortune. Tomorrow I leave for a lazy weekend in Charleston. Whit’s dad lives in Mt. Pleasant about 2 miles from the Isle of Palms and I can’t think of a nicer way to spend Easter than waking up, driving down the street to the beach and sitting until I crave beer. That takes care of 9 to 9:15 am.

I’ll just wing it for the rest of the day.

So in lieu of me not being computer handy this weekend (yes I’ll take the laptop, no I probably won’t blog) I’ll just get the weekend post down now and hope my fervently addicted readers don’t go into withdrawal too bad while I’m gone. Both of them.

I’ll let this edition of THE GOOD LIFE center around all things Charlestonian in order to further share my blessing.

Let’s start with Music. Tomorrow night we’ll be meeting some friends (who recently moved to James Island from Boston - good move there) at the Windjammer on Isle of Palms to have some tasty beverages and watch Tishamingo. I’m not too familiar with the band, they have a road-house kind of feel, but that doesn’t even matter. Given the opportunity to go to Folly and listen to live music by the ocean I’d listen to Zamfir fart into his pan flute all night, just no Streisand, a man’s got to have his standards you know.

Now that music is taken care of we can discuss the important things, like food and beer. Since I’ll be feet wet for the majority of my stay I’ll be eating crustaceans, multiple, cold, and domestic. I don’t discriminate either, if it lives in a shell under salt water, boil it, broil it or shuck it, plaster some Tabasco and butter on it and move out of the way…

As for beer, well, one of the nice treats I get for leaving the great state of Georgia is one of my all time fav’s in a green bottle: Yuengling. For some reason ( I think it probably has something to do with me torturing animals when I was very young) Georgia doesn’t sell Yuengling beer. This isn’t special in and of itself except for the fact that every state that borders Ga. sells Yuengling, and cheap too. If you have the means of picking some up I highly recommend it. I have introduced many people to this beer (you have to spread this kind of love) and never have I given one to anyone who didn’t give a double take and end up drinking the stuff all night long (which includes my entire band who managed to rack up an almost $400 bar tab drinking Yuengling at $2.50 a bottle - do the math)

And of course now there’s the obligatory cigar. I have several I’ve been saving for just such an occasion, though I can’t think of one in particular I’d like to smoke. Luckily there is a fantastic tobacconist right down the street from the house down there who is always more than willing to purvey some lovely stogies at fare market value. Heck, if I make it to Charleston (downtown) I can visit an old haunt, the Smoking Lamp, which just happens to be one of the oldest Tobacconists in America. It opened in 1897 and still carries the charm of the old city. Either way, for a few hours of my trip, I will bask in a warm cloud of Nicaraguan or Honduran or Dominican smoke.

Of course I’ll be shooting (pictures) like mad while I’m there, I’ve finally devoted myself to this book thing and if I start now I might be able to get it to a publisher by the time my kids hit puberty. I’ll try to bring some good shots and great memories back to share. In the mean time, find a shady spot, throw on the Buffett, crank up your blenders, and wax beach bum for a spell.

Until I make landfall once more,


Drink like it’s cheap, drive it like you stole it, and eat like it’s free.


Argh.


Captain.

Happy Birthday

Greetz everyone.
Wow, in looking through the news today there was very little "good" news to report. Actually, none on the major news sources. Well, in my usual drifting against the tide i'll share something a bit more "positive": the Space Shuttle program turned 25 today, with the the boldest, balls-iest, gutsiest test flight in history. To have gotten into that thing with it never having been test flown before (the first time a rocket hadn't been flown unmanned first), well, if there were ever 2 guys with a set of brass ones...

Anyway, something non-depressing to share. Interestingly enough, today is also the 45th anniversary of the first human space flight.

Warning...

Conclusions beware: people will be jumping to you soon and often, especially those in politics. For the last week or so I’ve been doing my normal reading, listening, and talking where news and politics are concerned, but mostly reading and listening. In doing so I’ve noticed something that I find increasingly annoying. It’s one of those things that has always been there, just under the surface, unnamed but ever pervasive and malignant.



Some call it ‘jumping to conclusions’ others call it the ‘slippery slope’ argument type. I don’t really call it anything, but I have a few choice words to describe it: Ignorant, fruitless, childish, cowardly.



It’s the latest greatest form of American witch hunt, this phenomenon. Just point something out (fact or fiction, it really doesn’t matter) and scream loud enough and you’ll get the desired reaction, at least for a while. John Stossal wrote a nice column about one form of this witch hunt in today’s Townhall. Let’s explore this and other types:



Junk Science: Ah the new American drug of choice…panic. As Stossal points out, it’s easier to get a government grant if you “discover” some evil doomsday plot that will end us all in a matter of months than if you just find out that ground up tube worm guts make paint stick to walls better. Science in this country, especially medical science, has donned it’s fishnet stockings, layered on the lipstick, and made its way to the corner, selling its findings to the highest (or latest) bidder. It’s no longer enough to make a real contribution to the world by actually making breakthroughs (however big or small) that lead to the truth. Now it’s all about the money, getting published, and becoming famous. Scientists and researchers are content to skip several steps in the method to come to a conclusion that suits the hypothesis as long as the data “points that way”. I can hold a golf club correctly and am strong enough to hit a golf ball 250 yards off the tee. Those two bits of information point to me being a decent golfer…but I’m not. I’ve played golf twice in my life, and let’s just say I’m glad I can ride a bike and run.



And let me offer this up as a side bar. I work with many research scientists in the medical field and they are, for the most part, delightful people. That being said, many of them, the majority of them in fact, are also spoiled brats. They stamp their feet and pout like five year olds when the government doesn’t give them as much money as they think they disserve to do their research. Never mind that there are no currently usable applications for their work. Never mind that they have yet to turn out any usable data. They want their money and they don’t care where it comes from, (i.e. our taxes) they just want it. While I understand the dynamics of the whole research thing, I can’t help but curl my lip when I talk about it, no doubt because of my affection for capitalism. It just rubs me the wrong way when people who don’t necessarily create or provide anything for the economy (except of course the next big scare) whine and pout when someone doesn’t want to hand them free money.



Next time you have a few days to kill, take the time and research where the majority of technological and medical advancement comes from. I’m willing to bet Sarge’s right leg you’ll find that it will come from companies who have research labs, and not government funded, academian farms.



Social Schism: This is where the witch hunts get really sad. In my daily ingestion of worldly information I do a lot of listening, mostly to Neil Boortz, Shawn Hannity, and the news from the radio station where they’re played, as it doesn’t lean left, and therefore doesn’t paint the news a lovely shade of communist red. What I hear quite often are people who love to debate their views, feverishly at times, each trying to win the other over to their viewpoint.



Pardon my jading, but I find this debate technique completely fruitless. More often than not I find that each side is so focused on bending the other’s will that they ignore truth and validity, opting for the most effective words, but not the right ones. This is where the slippery slope argument takes hold and brings along its friends, fallacy, and inductive syllogism. The words are nerdish and Spock like, but what they do to an otherwise cogent argument is devastating.



Sadly enough, it isn’t ignorance of topic or lack of debate skills that lead people to use these broken tools to build their argument, it’s ego. To quote a writer who captured this idea in a set of novels (strangely enough they were science fiction, but with several political and philosophical underpinnings, Jefferson and Hamilton would have loved them), "People are stupid. They will believe anything that they want to be true or fear to be true." So long as ANY evidence exists to support this belief. Think about it for a minute. I’ll bet you can come up with at least three examples of this in a few seconds…



Here’s a good example:



I tell you that the world is warming up. I’ll dub it “Global Warming”. Then I’ll look around me and see who I can blame for this that will help my agenda. Hmmm, I bet I could get more votes from the environmental crowd if I really stick it to the ‘evil’ corporations around the world and make it seem like a PURELY NATURAL PHENOMENON is their fault. I’ll just offer some government funding to a few laboratories and point them in the right direction.



If you did such a thing people would call you a lot of names. The one that would fit best is Al Gore.



Sadder still is the fact that in any given argument, the truth will always win. It might not make the most noise, wear the brightest bowtie, or appeal to the most people, but it will win. Truth is eternal. If you keep telling someone the truth it will eventually break down all the scaffolding upon which their illusions rest, leaving them a barren and empty landscape to gaze at. But standing in the middle of landscape, with nothing to draw their eyes away, they will have no choice but to see the truth.



Well, I think I’ve harped enough on the generalities of the idea, but just so my point doesn’t go foundering in the wake of these steaming piles of pseudo-revelation, here it is:



The moment you feel like you should panic because of something on the news, be it a new disease that will wipe us all out, comet heading for earth, or the evil agenda of the obviously shady political party in control of EVERYTHING except of course the even MORE evil corporations, is the moment you should stop, look around, take a deep breath, and exhale the bullshit.



Too many people in this country scurry around, accomplishing nothing, just waiting for the next explosion.





After a while, it just gets annoying.





That’s all.



As you were.





Captain.