Ode to English Muffins

Alright seriously, I don't know what an ode is or how to write one, but English muffins are so freaking amazing that they deserved that blog title. I just finished eating one not 30 seconds ago, delighting in its warm toasty goodness topped with butter that seeped into all of the nooks and crannies. I don't know what a nook is, nor a cranny, but that they are compartments for melted butter on an English muffin is good enough for me. Heck, there are a lot of things that I am unfamiliar with, but perfectly willing to accept. For instance, I hear all this talk about cells (you know, the building blocks of life and all that), and granted my knowledge about cells is slightly greater than that of nooks or crannies (I can identify vacuoles and I made a really nifty flip book of a cell undergoing meiosis in 9th grade (I've since forgotten exactly what meiosis is, but I think the cell splits into four other smaller cells, rather than two, and that they're haploid cells (rather than diploid cells)...um holy cow, I just astounded myself because I remembered the terms "haploid" and "diploid," and even if I used them incorrectly I still knew them, jerk face, so you can't even call me on it because I don't give a care, and anyway I was an expert on meiosis for a brief stint of my high school career, starting with Halloween night after trick-or-treating and ending shortly thereafter), but that's beside the point because I'm simply using a parallel line of thought and a similar lack of knowledge on a certain rather complicated subject to illustrate my point), but for the most part I just figure if somebody wants to believe in organelles (there's another little key word that I managed to remember), that's cool, but I'll just sit here and continue to take it for granted. It's like wireless internet. I don't question wireless internet. I don't know how things are transmitted electronically from one computer to another through thin air. Seriously, if I get a song from another computer and it plays on mine, that's basically like a miracle to me. I need no scientific explanation. If it works, it works. Period. Nooks are nooks, crannies are crannies, and English muffins kick the crap out of most other forms of toasted bread-type food materials. Case closed.

Orange juice is also another amazing food/drink item. It provides me with lots and lots of citric acid. I don't really know what citric acid does, or what its chemical formula is (I probably learned it in AP Chem, but that was many (2) years ago, and I frankly don't remember things that long, with the possible exception of meiosis, diploid, haploid, organelle, and vacuole, which have been permanently lodged in my brain since 9th grade, along with my social security number, RIN (that's Rensselaer Identification Number for the ignorant), home phone number, full name, three rifle serial numbers (3976372 "Tastykakes," "4048411 "Tasty Wheat" and 4113189 (which was never given a formal name; assumed to be the inspection and regulation version of "Tasty Wheat"), General Eric K. Shinseki (Hawaiians=the awesomeness)(I don't even remember who he was, just random inspection information from 9th grade), the entire 55 command armed regulation show:
1. Report In
2. Inspection Arms
3. Ready, Port Arms
4. Order Arms
5.. Dress Right Dress
6. Ready Front
7. Parade Rest
8. Platoon Attention
9. 15 Count Manual Arms
10. Count Off
11. Close Interval March
12. Normal Interval March
13. Open Ranks March
14. Close Ranks March
15. Right Step March
16. Platoon Halt
17. Left Face
18. Left Step March
19. Platoon Halt
20. About Face
21. Right Shoulder Arms
22. Forward March
23. Column Right March
24. Column Right March
25. Right Flank March
26. Left Flank March
27. Column Left March
28. Left Shoulder Arms
29. Rear March
30. Rear March
31. Platoon Halt
32. File From the Right March
33. Platoon Halt
34. Column of Threes to the Left March
35. Port Arms
36. Column Left March
37. Double Time March
38. Quick Time March
39. Column Left March
40. Left Shoulder Arms
41. Platoon Halt
42. Column Half Left March
43. Column Half Left March
44. Rear March
45. Rear March
46. Eyes Right
47. Ready Front
48. Column Left March
49. Port Arms
50. Right Shoulder Arms
51. Column Left March
52. Left Flank March
53. Change Step March
54. Platoon Halt
55. Report Out

and a slew of other random trivia, such as that Charles Guiteau proclaimed "I am a Stalwart of the Stalwarts...and Arthur is now President" before shooting James Garfield in the back twice and attempting to walk away), but again, it's just one of those things I don't really care about. Orange juice is there for me when I need it (unless I just polished it all off, in which case more is waiting for me just inside the little freezer things inside BJ's a ways down Central Ave), and that works for me. I don't need to complicate my life with useless information. I like to keep it simple and streamlined. This is precisely why introductory economics gives me so much trouble; it's all mired down in frivolities that I just don't have time for. I have bigger and bolder things, such as credit card houses, on my agenda.

I don't suppose I've ever really been a fan of jigsaw puzzles. Aside from my thinking that the word "jigsaw" is highly absurd and an unnecessary addition to the English language, they just aren't that puzzling. For one thing, all of the pieces that go along the border have a nice straight edge that just screams "I GO ON THE EDGE! PUT ME THERE!" For another thing, there's always a picture on the front of the box to go by. Life would be a lot more fun if someone chucked a 3000 piece jigsaw puzzle at you with no box and no picture guide and said "Finish this in ten minutes or I eat up every remaining English muffin in the universe." Now that would be pressure. That would be a challenge. I might gain some respect for jigsaw puzzles then, except even that scenario would not change the overly goofy name or the shrieking, wailing edge pieces.

Of all the different electronic media out there, my favorite definitely has to be the CD. I mean, if you put the things in a microwave and cook them they spark and smoke. How much freaking cooler can you get than that? In times of intense frustration, it always helps me to take one of those AOL free trial disks and hurl it at the wall with absurd force that causes it to shatter on impact. Heck, even when I'm not frustrated it's a barrel of monkeys. Plus, CDs are cheap, they hold a reasonable amount of space, and have a nifty little hole in the center through which you can put a finger, if your finger is small enough. I think only my pinkies of pinky fingers actually fits through that hole these days, but I still remember with fondness the days of my youth when I could put any finger I chose through the center of a CD. What a delight. I only wish that CDs were, say, three feet in diameter, because then they would just totally dominate life. Just imagine, a disc larger than a vinyl record, all shiny and floppy like (a CD that big would certainly be floppy, no?) that could double as a frisbee in a pinch, and if broken down (say, via extremely forceful impact with a wall or maybe a hammer), they would still smoke and spark when put in a microwave. Sometimes I guess size does matter, but whoever invented CDs opted for the less fun, albeit maybe more convenient, size that we are all familiar with.

Note: the above paragraph does not apply to DVDs. They are not fun at all. DVDs are very vain, as is apparent when they get a slight scratch and henceforth refuse to play without skipping at least seven times for every three minutes of playback. Some day DVDs will be less temperamental, and as the superior storage devices that they are (some multiple gigabytes, I'm told, but again I don't bother myself with trifling matters such as that), they will surpass CDs as the most supreme electronic media. Keep trying, DVDs. I almost love you too.

I am in somewhat dire need of a shave. This isn't to say that I have a beard or anything; if that were the case, I would probably just keep it there, because beards are rather nifty until gross stale food starts collecting in them, at which point they become a bio-hazard and should immediately be eliminated with napalm or some other such effective hair removal treatment (like shaving). Instead, I have several to many scraggly little hairs adorning my upper lip, and I'm actually quite disappointed with my unimpressive facial hair growth. Suffice it so say I am nowhere near as rugged as Action Hank, although I daresay some day I will grow a little Tony Almeida-esque soul patch (but only because Tony Almeida had one, and he was one freaking heck of a character. Thanks a lot, people in charge of 24, for killing off the second coolest guy on the show, and David Palmer, and Michelle Dessler (well, actually no one liked her, so that's okay. She screwed Tony over after season 3, remember?), and Curtis Manning, and even George Mason, who turned out to be an okay guy after he got radiation poisoning, and Ryan Chappelle, who I felt sorry for only right before and after he got shot, because I actually think he was a bit of a jerk; still, no one deserves to die because of that, with the possible exception of Charles "Idiot President Turned Bad Guy" Logan, and all those darn terrorists, but they always get their just desserts, which satisfies me just fine. And I swear, if they bring back Kim "A Mountain Lion!" Bauer, I will commit ceremonial suicide (probably Hara Kiri) in front of the television, because her superior ability to cause nitpicky trouble and otherwise just be a plot distracting pest far, far outweighed her level of attractiveness (and yes, Elisha Cuthbert isn't a bad looking chick, but it just wasn't worth it. 24 isn't about the babes; it's about Jack, and if you don't know that by now you ought to turn on a different channel because you are wasting a valuable broadcast on your overly thickened skull)) just below my lower lip. Alas, until then I best just shave off the disappointing clutter that adorns the lower portion of my head, because otherwise I'll just look like a person who never shaves. Ew.

I frankly can't imagine what more I could possibly spend this blog writing about. I daresay tonight has put me into something of a creative frenzy type deal, which effectively made me spin off a rather stupid amount of tangent ideas to the main ones. I think actually this post, if broken down to its elements, would be about three sentences long.

1. English muffins are boss.
2. Orange juice is boss.
3. I need to shave.

Well, if you took nothing else from this entire session of nested parenthetical asides, then at least take the true meanings of this post, which are the above three statements. Have fun being kids, and don't grow up too fast on me.

The End

Valentines Day

First off, I would like to wish Lara Croft a happy birthday. I think she's like 40 or something now. I don't know offhand, but Billy probably would, being the trivia fiend type that he is.

So the Capital Region got its butt kicked by snow last night and this morning. When I went out to shovel at around 10 this morning, there was over a foot of snow already, and more was falling down at a brisk pace. I haven't looked outside since, but it's supposed to keep snowing until 6 tomorrow morn. That should mean a considerable amount of snow. I actually experienced my first college snow day, and to be completely honest I fully expected to go all four years (or more) without a single closing, since colleges aren't so prone to closing at the drop of a hat like, say, Ichabod Crane schools.

Shoveling the driveway this morning was just like it used to be, although in the many years since I started shoveling snow I've gained a knack for doing it, and so it takes nowhere near as long as it used to. Back in the good old days snow shoveling consisted of various foolhardy schemes to make the work easier and quicker, which resulted (every single time) in just making it worse and wasting time. It also consisted of talking about Tomb Raider games for lengthy periods of time, and wanting to go sledding, and just hating the work part of the deal. Today I found that there was no Tomb Raider to be talked about, and no ridiculous schemes to get done faster with very little work. I actually just went outside, shoveled the snow, and went back in. Upon my return to the Great Indoors, I was greeted with real homemade hot chocolate, made by my very own mother, because we forgot to buy more of the powder stuff. I thank the heavens that we forgot, because the real stuff is so much better. I can't remember the last time I drank so much hot chocolate in a single sitting. It was nothing like the weak, watery, false tasting Swiss Miss powder mix stuff; it was like drinking a real thing. I think my soul was warmed by the several cups that I drank. In fact, just writing about it makes me want more, so as soon as I'm done I'm going to get some. It was beastly good.

I still think Valentines Day is overly commercialized and rather stupid, which is to say that I still don't endorse it, but I'm willing to be a lot more complacent this year. I can be content without griping, grumbling or bumbling the whole day about what a stupid miserable holiday it is. I certainly understand those who do this (as I was once one of them), and I fully encourage such behavior, because there really is nothing wrong with bitterness at such a stupid holiday. I'm just sitting out this game, a sub on the bench that will never play, much like...

WILL NEUBERT! As a matter of fact, Will Neubert actually played his very first collegiate hockey game on Saturday, and I was there to witness it. I even got my Red Army shirt autographed by this legendary third-string goaltender for the Engineers. I actually skated on the same ice as he did, and got his autograph. Of course, now I can't wash the shirt anymore, since permanent marker is actually deceptively temporary, especially when washed. For the last four minutes of the game, during which Neubert filled the goal and prevented any shots by the other team (in fact, by sheer willpower alone Mr. Neubert only allowed the puck to cross on his half of the ice a single time), the noise and cheers supporting him was ceaseless. During the last minute, a full minute, the Red Army section kept up a chant of "Will-iam-Neu-bert" *clap**clap**clapclapclap* It was a solid, beastly minute of chanting awesomeness. I've never seen another player cheered on so much in my entire life. When I look back on my life in my old age, and I'm recounting all my experiences to my grandchildren (assuming I have grandchildren), I'll be able to say "That's right...I was there when Will Neubert played his first collegiate hockey game, and what a game it was."

Of course, I forgot to mention that we lost 6-1, and that's why they put him in in the first place. We had nothing to lose, really. Nevertheless, I saw the legend play, and hopefully some of his untapped potential will finally be realized and he can at last become the regular goalie for the Engineers.

Well, all this talk has made me need some more hot chocolate. It's so beastly good, like I said before, that I'll probably end up drinking it until I'm intoxicated, and maybe even until I pass out on the floor. That means I'll probably end up drinking hot chocolate for all eternity, because I don't think one can get drunk from drinking it. Whatever.

The End

Cheerios

I kind of hate when people do this (in blog form, that is), but lately I've been rather depressed. That's a really overused and somewhat meaningless word, but I'm about to put it into more strictly defined terms that maybe people can understand. So here goes. I'm not sad. The automatic association is sadness with depression, but this isn't the case. In fact, I'd say I'm more prone right now to getting annoyed or ultimately mad over smaller things more frequently rather than, say, laying face down and crying into a pillow, then cutting my wrists in distinct little patterns that won't kill me, but leave weird scars anyway. It's just harder for me to hit and then maintain my natural high that comes so easily from a variety of sources. In general I'm more prone to good moods than bad, but right now I just feel crappy in general about life. That isn't to say that I'm feeling sorry for myself or anything (because that would be lame), but I'm just consistently bummed about everything.

The potential sources for a general bad disposition are many. I know for one thing that I'm really sick of winter. I can't stand walking to class in the frigid cold, accompanied only by a wind that is determined to shank me every step of the way. Despite all my best efforts at wearing clothing to keep out the cold, I still find at the very least that my face always gets the most brutal assault from the elements, and what with my need to see and breath, I can't just bury my face in several layers of warm clothing. It's quite a predicament. I don't suppose having to get up when it's still dark outside is any good for me either. Heck, sometimes I've already left for school and the sun isn't even up yet. I think the Earth's axis needs to get its act together and straighten the freak out so we can stop having seasonal weather. I would much prefer constant warm weather. See, during the winter it's so bloody cold outside that I basically have to stay inside just to be comfortable. Even the briefest exposure to the outdoors sends me running for the safety of the front door and subsequently the warm interior of my house.

I was, in fact, considering hell on the way to class at just before 8 this morning. I thought to myself, why fire? Why not just extreme cold for all eternity? That would be pretty miserable. Granted, I've never actually been on fire. I do however know that flames can be very intense, so I was struck by an even better idea: what if hell were actually a combination of both extreme cold and extreme heat? As the seemingly contradictory idea of flames that burned but didn't give off heat or light struck me, I reached the front door of the Russel Sage laboratory, where it was comfortably warm. I ceased with such unpleasantries and "hustled and bustled" on up two flights of stairs to room 5101, where I have IEA, and where last semester, every Wednesday from 12:00 to 2:00 I had computer science lab.

Although I sort of enjoyed computer science at the time (minus the grading and the work), I've recently come to realize that I actually didn't like it much at all, especially compared to my classes this semester. The class which really interests me is discrete structures, which is unique in that it's a class about thinking inside the box by thinking outside the box. I happened upon that paradox today in that very class, when I realized that it took an awful lot of abstract math type thinking in order to come to some basic conclusions, like proving that the sum from k=1 to n of 2k-1 was in fact equal to n squared. In fact, that's what proofs are in general; presenting a simple, mostly common sense type truth through very innovative and clever methods. I haven't yet mastered the art of thinking outside the box, and now I find myself attempting to solve problems that are once again in the box, and it's pretty confusing. Nevertheless, it is the ultimate in coolness to write proofs. People think you are a lot smarter if you can write a proof for them. It reminds me of the immense satisfaction I got from proving the quadratic formula for the bonus question on my final exam for math A/B in 9th grade, even though I didn't know how to do a majority of the regular test questions. No matter, because I got the bonus right, and it was a proof, which was a difficult concept for a 14 year old to grasp (at least a 14 year old like me).

I don't really know where I was going with that, but I also enjoy IEA (or at least the concepts at its heart; the class itself is slightly boring), because its basically an introductory mechanics class. Mechanics are pretty dang cool. For instance (however irrelevant this may be), I can calculate the forces from two cables on a ring conveniently labeled A that's holding a little block that weighs 400 lbs (okay, not so little, but you get the idea). I can solve, in terms of the angle theta, for the necessary amount of force the thrusters on a flying saucer need to put out in order to counteract the recoil force of the Death Ray Cannon, which is capable of swiveling 360 degrees. Granted, I still don't really, truly, in my heart know what an engineer does, but it is my theory that no one really knows what an engineer does. They just kind of solve problems, sort of like a glorified mathematician.

The funny thing is, I don't have the ineherent math/science mind that some people have. On the other hand, history doesn't interest me, and I find most topics related to English and literature to be extremely pretentious and hollow. I don't want to be professionally artsy, even though I think I could probably pull it off. I'm capable of learning the required material; that is, with a little coaxing I fully understand everything we cover. It just isn't something I grasp right away. I think my real talents lie elsewhere, but I still don't even know where that is. I wish I could make a career out of writing blogs, because I sure would. I would write my thoughts every single day for my whole life if someone was willing to pay me and publish it for people to read. So I'm just gonna trudge on through this process and get whatever the heck kind of degree I end up getting, so long as it interests me (which this engineering stuff does, just not necessarily as much as it could) and then figure out what to do from there.

I hate to be whiny, but I'm actually getting rather tired. I haven't gotten my required eight hours of sleep each of the past three nights. I don't care to end blogs on such lousy notes, but I feel this is simply necessary, lest i turn into a zombie and start drooling and making low-pitched groaning and moaning noises that no one really wants to hear. So...

The End

WHAT THE HECK?!

Page four of the IPCC Procedures Document states the following:

Changes (other than
grammatical or minor editorial changes) made after acceptance by the Working Group or the Panel shall be those
necessary to ensure consistency with the Summary for Policymakers or the Overview Chapter.

The IPCC releases a summary of the reports, but then withholds the actual reports themselves for another three months for editing? The reports can be edited to conform to the summary?

WHAT KIND OF SCIENCE IS THIS, ANYWAY?!

A Brief Exposition on Stuff

Well I was looking at some of my past blogs and I noticed one regarding Friday the 13th. This made me sort of curious, and having nothing better to do (save maybe studying for my differential equations test tomorrow morning), I decided to find out when our next Friday the 13th would be. It took me eleven seconds (estimated) to find out that our next Friday the 13th will be Friday, the 13th of April, Current Era (oh hang on, I want to discuss that) 2007. That's just two months from now. I better start preparing, I think, if I want to avoid a complete disaster.

So anyway, regarding the designations CE (Current Era) and BCE (Before Current Era). One day in ninth grade I was in Global Studies and I found out from the teacher that the new year designations were BCE and CE, rather than BC and AD. Back then, I was like "huh?" I guess I still kind of feel the same way. The funny thing is, I don't think that really took off very well, because as far as I know people still use BC and AD, which is just fine with me because I'm used to them, and they therefore sound better. Some people just feel they have to change something or else their jobs will get stale. What strikes me as funny, though, is that the designation change really makes no sense. What exactly defines the "current era?" The past 2000 years are supposedly that era, but at what point did we go from being before the current era to all of the sudden being in it? I mean heck, the designations BC and AD at least give some indication as to their relevance, "Before Christ" and "Anno Domini" respectively, both of which regard the Earthly presence of Jesus. That's the standard for the numbering system we employ to keep track of years. On the other hand, BCE and CE don't really make a whole lot of sense. I mean, they do, because they designate the exact same numbering system. CE 2007 and AD 2007 are exactly the same year, so what's the difference? Some brief Wikipedia reading states exactly what I suspected:

The term common era is preferred by some as an alternative to the more overtly religious AD and BC, since Common Era does not explicitly make use of religious titles for Jesus, such as Christ and Lord, which are used in the AD/BC notation. Some criticize Common Era notation as a euphemism that does not alter the pivotal year one still centering on the life of Jesus. Many others criticize the notation as an unnecessary attempt at political correctness.

One thing I can't stand is political correctness. Anyone who is offended at our year designations can suck an ole buck, because there's nothing offensive about that. Heck, if you're going to change the year designations, you might as well just abolish them completely and call this the year 700,000,000,002,007. Except that would be completely stupid, which is why no one does that. If it's really that big a deal, come up with a different numbering system that doesn't exactly coincide with the Gregorian calendar and makes an actual distinction between two different sets of years, rather than just "Common Era" and "Before Common Era." Come on people, let's get creative here.

We need some more cool people like Thomas Jefferson. That man had his head on straight. Of course, the new thing is to drag him through the mud because he had slaves (and we all know that anyone who ever had a slave was a hate monger and otherwise bad, bad person) and all that. Heck, if we could get all of those prominent figures from 18th century America we could have a pretty cool party. Back in the day language was art. They way those people wrote is quite awe-inspiring. I wish I had a fraction of the command of English that they had. Then again, the Declaration of Independence directly states that all men are equal under their Creator, which we all know now to be an archaic, foolish idea; in this enlightened scientific age everyone realizes that all men are in fact equal under...common ancestry. Heck, let's take a closer look at the Declaration of Independence right now! It says, if I'm reading properly, that all men "are andowed, by their Creator, with certain unalienable Rights..." and "That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed." So let's straighten this little issue out. All men are given certain rights by God. In order to preserve said rights, men institute governments, which operate under their consent. So the function of government is to protect rights given to men from God. Note the logical progression from God to government. Alright, now again in our enlightenment we have managed to eliminate God, being an obsolete idea that humans only clung to for security in their dark days of ignorance. Therefore we are no longer granted unalienable rights by God, which in turn no longer need protecting, which in turn means no government. It is my understanding of the situation that America operates under archaic and idealistic principles, the outdated philosophy behind the American Revolution was completely flawed, and we have no right to exist as a nation. We are not entitled to "the separate and equal station." By what authority, then, does any government have, or any man over that government, or any man over another?

Survival of the fittest, no?

Forgive me if I go out and round me up a bunch of slaves, because it is my understanding that I have every right to do so. If I can maintain my position as the "fittest" human, no one can rightfully oppose me because, by nature, I am the dominant force and I can therefore do what ever the heck I want. By nature alone, I can justify anything I do. Thomas Jefferson was a hypocrite anyway, because he owned slaves. Slaves have no liberty; how can Jefferson say all men have the unalienable right of liberty? I thus denounce the United States Declaration of Independence, the United States Constitution, our founding fathers, justice, government, and humanity as a whole.

Obviously I'm being facetious. It's apparent that I'm a disillusioned individual. Regarding Thomas Jefferson and his slaves, I encourage whoever is blameless among you to "cast the first stone." I sure wish I could meet the people who are responsible for our being here in the first place. These were the enlightened people, the intelligent, the sophisticated, the courageous. These guys had balls. Everything they risked their lives for has steadily devolved into the political quagmire we have today. This country sucks more every day.

One Nation, [ ], Indivisible, with Liberty and Justice for all.

The End

Oh, the joys of press box life...

I actually already posted today (so this would be my second post in about half an hour, let alone a single day), and the gravity of the previous post was such that I'm going to delay this one for the time being. I simply don't want to forget any of the things I'm thinking about right now, because they are actually pretty reasonable for blog content.

The past couple weeks I've worked at four total basketball games as a member of the Sports Information department at RPI (I'm a workstudy there, for those who don't know this already). My prior game experiences included soccer, field hockey, ice hockey, and football, but basketball was new for me. Obviously I've watched basketball games before; it is a sad individual who has never seen a basketball game, let me tell you. Ever since working this particular job, though, I take sports a lot more analytically, as more of a defined art than just an object of entertainment. As a result, my appreciation for football has been greatly broadened, and for soccer greatly shallowed. For the record, I never liked soccer, but taken analytically it becomes all too painfully apparent that the skills required for soccer cannot be mastered by any human. No matter how quick, agile, nimble, coordinated, or skilled any human being is, the fact remains that feet are not designed to be used to control objects such as soccer balls. This makes soccer the most painfully clumsy sport ever, impossible to control and rather uninteresting to watch. It's plenty easy to kick a ball and dislodge it from someone else's control, but unfortunately most of the other skills demanded by soccer are not so easy. As a result, soccer games consist primarily of, not surprisingly, kicking a ball and dislodging it from someone else's control. As far as football goes, my prior understanding of the game was just that eleven people from each team lined up, crashed into each other, and tried to move the ball through the wreckage some 100 yards to a touchdown. It appeared to me the most futile effort a human being can undertake. While watching football games this past fall, I discovered there are distinctive patters of behavior, strategies (including clever time-out management, which I personally think is really bush league), and methods that can get the job done with varying degrees of efficiency, depending on a multitude of factors. Naturally this makes every single play somewhat predictable but ultimately unique. It's a very cool sport to understand, I'll tell you that much.

What I was specifically thinking of (and as usual, I've gotten sidetracked) was basketball. I always accepted basketball as one of the better sports, the ones that were actually entertaining, but now basketball has been cemented in my mind as one of the top three sports (baseball, hockey, and basketball). The amazing thing is, in basketball the players manage to score astronomically higher totals than in soccer with less people in play at a given time and a significantly smaller scoring area (a basket slightly larger than the ball, as opposed to a huge goal). Why? Well, because basketball can be mastered. Hands are so much more effective devices for play than feet, which are intended to be utilized for walking or running or pushing the pedals on a car. Basketball is fast and exciting, and it makes sense. It's a good, solid sport.

What's weird, though, is how much men's basketball differs from women's. I've heard the line "it's almost like a completely different sport" very many times, but only from women. I don't really expect them to take my exact position, simply because they have a female bias. The fact is, though, it's not that it's like a different sport. It's that it's the same sport, but women aren't as good at it. I'm sorry, women, but on the whole you aren't as physically capable as men. That's just the gosh darned truth of it. Women's basketball is slower and more tentative than men's. The first RPI basketball game that I worked last weekend was a women's game, followed immediately by a men's game. I was entertained enough by the women, but I was appalled to note the difference when the men began playing. It was ridiculously fast. The ball moved around without hesitation, snapped rapidly from one player to the next. Contact between players was a necessity. The men weren't afraid to block the basket, nor were they afraid to shove past such blockages in order to make a shot. They didn't think, they moved. The reflexes were intense. This sort of thing just wasn't the case with the women. The game moved slower, the fouls were more deliberate, and it ultimately just wasn't as good. It's sort of like the difference in Little League baseball (where I have literally tons and tons of experience) between Pee Wee's and Majors. It's the same sport; the fundamentals are all the same, but the younger players just can't meet up to the same standard as the older ones.

The difference between men's and women's hockey isn't as apparent, although I've never watched them back-to-back, so I can't really say that with any kind of definite authority. The only difference I've noted is the atmosphere. People care so much more about men's hockey at RPI, and the screaming, jeering, and tormenting of the opposing team creates such a different feeling. There aren't many fans at the women's games, and I've only ever been there working in the press box, so the experience is a little different, but the overall quality of play doesn't seem to be, at least not drastically. The difference between basketball and hockey is absurd though. Today I observed how incredibly sluggish the hockey seemed to be, after having watched four basketball games. At first I thought to myself "wow, why are they so slow?" but then I realized that it was all my perception. Through the course of the game I readjusted to hockey, and it's still an awesome sport, fast-paced in its own way. I suppose it could be said that hockey is like the illegitimate love child of basketball and soccer, because it borrows a slightly awkward playing style (sticks rather than hands), the goal shape, and the goalie from soccer, but the pacing, skill level (i.e. it can be mastered for the most part), and median size of the goal come from the influence of basketball. The ice is a result of recessive traits, similar to parents of a blond, blue-eyed child who themselves have brown hair and eyes.

I sure can't wait until baseball season. Baseball is the only real sport. The orderedness of it all is just perfect. It's the only sport in which offense and defense are completely and shockingly distinct. It's the only turn-based sport, which gives it a set of properties that are fully unique. It is, in fact, the only sport in which a scorebook can be kept that actually gives a reasonable level of detail as to the course of events through the entire game, rather than who scored what goal when, and who incurred what penalty. The baseball scorebook operates on the progression of the game, inning by inning, hit by hit, pitch by pitch, while other sports produce merely a basically mishmoshed compilation of recorded scores and the like. Suffice it to say I love baseball and the scorekeeping thereof. The prospect of working in the press box for college baseball (even Division III) is pretty exciting.

I realized just now that I never write those kind of stupid one- or two-line blogs that everyone else writes that consist of "so i went 2 the mall today and bought stuff." My blogs contain substance. That excites the crap out of me. I hope everyone else enjoys my enthusiasm at this. That's all for now.

The End

Will Someone Please Make the UN Go Away?

I'm sick of the United Nations. They don't actually do anything. Seriously, when was the last time the UN accomplished something of merit? World government sucks. It just does. Every country has its own interests. We're never all going to get along. We're never going to have total peace. To think that's possible is to be so naive and so idealistic that I would seriously tell you to never mate, because you are a danger to the human gene pool. There will never, ever be complete global cooperation. You know why? There's always someone who will be unsatisfied. There's always some jerk who wants to have more power. And what happens to that jerk? Well, one of two things: he isn't given what he wants, and makes a bunch of trouble, or he is given what he wants and later on just makes even worse trouble. On a global scale, it's not really good to be giving people lots of power. There are just too many individual interests to make government on such a vast level effective without employing socialism, which isn't really that good.

Anyway, the real reason I'm pissed off at the UN right now doesn't specifically deal with its existence, although thats definitely an underlying issue. Rather, I'm specifically pissed at the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change for releasing yet another stupid Assessment Report in which they detail just exactly how much carbon dioxide we are releasing into the atmosphere, and just exactly how that carbon dioxide affects the climate. Let me give you my professional opinion on the IPCC:

It's a piece of crap.

As I said earlier, there are just too many individual interests to make a world government effective, let alone beneficial. Naturally this applies also to the research done by the subdivisions thereof, such as the IPCC. They have an agenda, which is: WORLD GOVERNMENT! What better way to further the UN's ends than by scaring everyone into signing up for some idealistic cause to (surprise!) save the planet from imminent doom? It's a power play, folks. Again, anyone who doesn't believe/recognize that every politician has an agenda (namely, advancing their own agendas) is far too naive for their own good. Some time, ask yourself how much all these bleeding hearts actually care about their hot issues. Just think about the possibility that maybe, just maybe, they say things to, oh I don't know, GET ELECTED?! Really folks, politicians don't pick issues they care about; they pick issues that the people will care about. That's politics. The more people who care about your chosen issues, the better. That's how you win an election. I'm a political cynic. The word "altruism" is completely foreign in the world of politics. Face it: people are out to win. They don't care about fixing things, they want to win. Period.

Is this to say I doubt the research of the IPCC? YES! Tell me, who verifies the research of the IPCC? Themselves, presumably, in which case they are biased. Try to proofread your own paper, or find your own careless mathematical mistake. It's not easy. That's because of bias. Why shouldn't the same sort of bias apply to much more complex data such as that pushed by the IPCC? Let me remind you that the last IPCC report was based on a certain "hockey stick" graph, which itself was based on a formula which, no matter what kind of data was input, even random, trendless, computer generated data, would produce the same hockey stick trend. The IPCC doesn't exactly have the greatest track record. Furthermore, let me introduce to you a tricky little notion: the entire world is a ridiculously complex system. It's more complex than anything you can possibly imagine. It doesn't operate in a linear, proportion-based fashion as everyone wants to believe. It is not difficult to predict. It is impossible to predict. There is absolutely zero certainty as to what any given action will have on the entirety of the massive system that is this planet. Without getting overly technical, it simply can't be done. So what is this all to say? 1. I don't trust the unverified/self-verified (a.k.a. biased) research of the IPCC, 2. The prediction of the behavior of the entire environment is completely and ridiculously impossible, 3. Global warming is more of a political game than anything.

Don't get me wrong, there are scientists who sincerely believe in this stuff. I think they're unfortunately misled. The IPCC is not the be-all end-all, especially while there are scientists who dispute global warming. Majority consensus is irrelevant. If just one scientist has data with which he can dispute global warming, then it remains to be questioned. Science is not a democracy. Science is imperical facts. Science is verifiable results. Science is research that can be replicated, results that can be reproduced. Science is fact, the conclusion of guess work and subsequent experimentation. Science is not open to interpretation, any more than is the simple equation 2+2=4. Right now there are only guesses, computer simulations and models, assumptions, reconstructions, and guesses. That's it. Global warming is not a fact, not a theory, but a hypothesis. To base our actions for the next 100 years (even disregarding inevitable technological advances) is simply foolish, unless we are sure. And we aren't sure.

On the note of technological advances, in a speech Michael Crichton listed a number of words that Teddy Roosevelt did not know the meaning of. Here they are:

airport antibiotic antibody antenna computer continental drift tectonic plates zipper radio television robot video virus gene proton neutron atomic structure quark atomic bomb nuclear energy ecosystem jumpsuits fingerprints step aerobics 12-step

jet stream shell shock shock wave radio wave microwave tidal wave tsunami IUD DVD MP3 MRI HIV SUV VHS VAT whiplash wind tunnel carpal tunnel fiber optics direct dialing dish antennas gorilla corneal transplant liver transplant heart transplant

liposuction transduction maser taser laser acrylic penicillin Internet interferon nylon rayon leisure suit leotard lap dancing laparoscopy arthroscopy gene therapy bipolar moonwalk spot welding heat-seeking Prozac sunscreen urban legends rollover minutes

What is the relevance? Well, just that it's slightly sort of, well, STUPID to try and predict the next 100 years and the climate trends thereof based on the world today. I'm going to make an appeal to history here. It's all about history. How absurdly much has the human race advanced in the last hundred years? Heck, even look at the last twenty years. Remember Super Mario Brothers, where enemies were capable of walking in a straight line or maybe bouncing up and down, effectively acting as nothing more than stupid obstacles? Now, twenty years later, we have artificial intelligence advanced enough to follow tactical patters, select weaponry based on the situation, follow certain orders, and otherwise just act like a more crude version of a human being. The only difference now between computers and humans is the ability to think creatively. Computers can only follow instructions and patterns. Even then, they act very convincingly. It just makes no sense to even try to predict the future, unless you're writing science fiction.

There's a statistic out there that I'm sure many people have heard that the entire population of the planet Earth, given living quarters the size of the average American, could fit into the state of Texas. Texas is a big state, but let's look at the big picture. Texas is a phenomenally small fraction of the entire Earth. That a population that can be placed in such a small land area can be having a serious effect on the whole Earth, especially given the complexity of the system and the sheer volume of other inhabitants, is nothing shy of arrogant. The natural environment is designed to respond to equilibrium shifts, and that's what it will do, no matter what we do to it. There is no irreversible process we can set in motion. Granted, it isn't necessarily fair to make a judgment as to how much effect a given factor can have based solely on size. The point is, though, that humans account for a very, very small amount of the Earth.

It is very important to look at the other sources of variable temperatures, namely the sun and the urban heat effect. The sun is automatically assumed to have a constant effect; we see it every day, it looks the same, and we just accept that. The fact is, the sun is no less complex than the Earth. The sun is capable of its own dramatic changes, which naturally affect the Earth. The sun, of course, doesn't account for all of the temperature change, but it certainly is more important than is assumed. The urban heat effect is also important. Many cities are 7 to 8 degrees warmer than surrounding countryside. Since we're talking about a global average temperature change of .6 degrees, I'd say thats reasonably significant. How about this temperature chart from a car driving around Berlin on a single day?

It is plainly absurd to discount the urban heat effect as a cause for temperature increases.

Let me just quickly address one issue, which is the perspective in which we are given the temperature anomalies over the past 120 years. Take a look at these two graphs:


Would it surprise you to learn that those graphs show EXACTLY the same numbers? This is a fine example of just exactly how data can be easily manipulated to create a desired impression. That, my friends, is the "science" behind global warming. In reality, this sort of manipulation is much more art than science.

See, it's irrelevant when a prediction comes right. When the expected result is garnered, no one is surprised. No big deal, it's the expected result. What matters is when the predictions and experiments turn out to the contrary. A great many things have been learned by testing hypotheses to be false. There's a lot of merit to be had for being wrong in the field of science. What lacks merit are the repeated prophecies of gloom and doom that are issued forth ever too frequently, the sort that never come true. The predictions that come false are readily available over the past few decades, whether it be the population boom of the 1960's which predicted some 60 million Americans starving to death, or the "New Ice Age" and nuclear winter of the 1970's, or the predicted 3.5 million long term deaths from the Chernobyl meltdown in the 1980's (which, by the way saw only 56 deaths, a far cry from the speculated 15 to 30 thousand) which, to date have only numbered 4,000, or even the more recent Y2K scare we encountered at the end of the 20th century. Let me say again, I'm making an appeal to history. I'm making an appeal to common sense. The disaster cries are prevalent. The actual disasters themselves, not so much.

Ultimately, I go back to my fundamental beliefs in order to form my opinions. That is to say, at the basis of all my beliefs regarding global warming is religion. I've already gone through my thoughts on the Earth's creation, I needn't go there again. If, as I asserted previously, the Earth was created by God, it was created in such a way that God would have control over it. To think anything else makes no sense. The Earth was designed in such a manner that we couldn't change it if we tried. The natural order is set up so as to respond to equilibrium shifts. We couldn't destroy the atmosphere if we tried. We could pour so many pollutants into the air that we killed ourselves, and after we were dead it would all smooth out again. Things would return to normal, albeit minus humanity. This is how the Earth was designed. It's not random at all, but rather very ordered, very specific, and very well crafted.

Let me make something brutally clear: I'm not looking for a debate. Read: I. Am. Not. Looking. For. A. Debate. I was slightly upset to realize last night that this is what some people think. I don't say controversial things because I want people to argue with me. That's foolishness. I say what I believe because I hope to bring other people to a new understanding. I'm not looking for a fight. If someone wants to argue with me, fine, but that doesn't mean that's my intention. I state my opinions because I want them known. I state my opinions because I believe so fully in them that I think it is my responsibility to do so. Picking fights just to fight is silly. I don't pick fights. I express my beliefs, and let other people pick the fight. I have no issue with finish it, but don't make the mistake of thinking I'm just a confrontational jerk. So argue with me if you will, but otherwise at least give some thought to what I'm saying. It's not just to hear myself talk.

I urge you to think, to read, to research for yourself. The worst possible thing is to take a blanket statement from a single source as concrete evidence. In this discussion alone I've been influenced by a number of outside sources and numbers. I may not have the credibility of a college professor, or a textbook, or the IPCC report. But I have read. I've formulated opinions of my own. I recognize that something here is out of place. We need to live in the world we have now, not the one that might be in a hundred years. This is the present. We need to act based on our status now, not what's predicted for 2100. We need to treat this complex system as it is; we can't try to control it, we can only examine the current status and make our decisions based on that. We need to let technology advance in its own time, not try to force it.

We need to end the state of fear.

The End

TGIT II: Dreams Come True

Estimated Travel Time (to school): 19 minutes
Calculated Travel Time (from school): 21:48.15
Total Estimated Travel Time: 40:48.15
Estimated Average Travel Time: 20:24.08

I stole the subtitle for today's post from the Disney animated neo-classic (a.k.a. straight to video crap) movie Cinderella II: Dreams Come True. Apparently the third installment of the Cinderella series comes out in five days, entitled Cinderella III: A Twist in Time. That's right, Cinderella's wicked step mother is back with a vengeance, this time altering to course of history so that one of Cinderella's step-sisters (Anastasia, apparently) winds up marrying the Prince instead.

How stupid is that?

Honestly, I want to know what Disney is thinking. I mean come on, why don't they just take on George Lucas? That way they can produce more sequels that are actually prequels, and when the storylines are conflicting and incongruous, he can go back and change the original movies to fit better with Walt Disney's "original vision." It seems only the folks leading the Pixar animated projects have their heads on straight. The Disney/Pixar movies are the only recent ones that are any good. Sheesh, they need to get their acts together. Stop riding the rides in Disney Land and GET TO WORK ON SOME GOOD MOVIES. All you're doing is making the lines longer for the honest to God tourists there.

Last night I slept for a disjointed 6 hours. I took two separate naps, between 9 pm and 1 am and then again between 4 am and 6 am. This is something I do not recommend. Even having had 6 hours of sleep (which is just about plenty for a week night), I still felt like I didn't sleep very much just because the last leg was only 2 hours long, and being up at 4 am just feels full of despair, even when you really aren't tired. Anyway, just don't do it. Side effects may vary.

You know what occurred to me in the wee pre-dawn hours last night? Firstly, it occurred to me that it was February. That's right, it is now the shortest month of the year. Thank goodness for that, because after February comes March, which is a beastly month, but only 30 days long. That means there are 58 total days until April, and April is where it's at. You see, April is the last month of school (exams are the first week of May, so that doesn't count as "school") and the beginning of the Little League season at Colonie Little League. At long last I will be able to resume my mantle as the Voice, and make some more money (of which I am in dire need, sort of). April also contains Easter, and we all know the significance of that. In addition to baskets full of candy and junk, we have Jesus (undeniably the coolest guy in human history) who rose from the dead after being crucified three days prior. Beyond that being of epic spiritual significance, it's just plain cool. You know that kind of spine shivering feeling you get when you watch Neo get up off the floor and cleanly polish off Agent Smith? Or when Gandalf takes off his gray cloak to reveal an awesomely bright white one underneath? Or when Jack Bauer re-awakens after dying for the third time? Or when Captain Barbossa appears in Tia Dalma's hut to assist in finding Jack Sparrow? I bet that's the kind of feeling people got when all of the sudden Jesus was hanging out with them again. Well, maybe not the Pharisees, but I don't take much stock in the shiverings of their spines anyway. I digress. The point is, I can't wait for this summer because a) summer is on the whole a lot warmer than winter and b) summer is just fun. Secondly, it occurred to me last night that this year I will not be able to justifiably grumble about Singles Awareness day because (go figure) I'm not single. I can still grumble, however, that it is overly commercialized, a humongous beast of a Hallmark holiday, second only to Christmas in number of card sales.

Why the heck to people buy so many cards? Everyone knows that cards are just an obligatory, insincere recognition of a holiday. No one really sends out Christmas cards to spread holiday cheer; they do it because they have to. It's tradition. It's what you are "supposed to do." Heaven help us if we don't send Christmas cards. We'll all be bloody Scrooges, and no one wants to be a Scrooge. Or a Squidward. No employee wants to be a Squidward. Good heavens, no. I want to wash my face and hands thoroughly just thinking about it.

By the way, in case you haven't been keeping up on my blog titles (which I don't really expect you to, which is why I'm writing this), the reason this post is TGIT II is because this is the second time that I thank God it is Thursday. See, most people thank God for Friday, the first day of the traditional weekend. I, however, find Friday to be much less than a real day, and so Thursday is the practical beginning of the weekend. If it's all downhill from Wednesday, then it's all downmountain from Thursday. We're talking 20,000 feet downmountain in a single day. That's pretty beastly. Plus, I have no Friday classes, so for me Thursday is the real first day of the weekend. I titled an earlier post "TGIT" (I don't even know why now), but I thought this would make a fitting sequel because of my similar state of mind.

But now I want to take a nap. I'm tired, I have nothing to worry about for a while, and I'm pretty apathetic at the moment. I'm going to sleep for a long time. And that's all there is to it, folks.

The End