Saturday, April 29, 2006

"The Da Vinci Code" - online fun

(click "Uncover the Code" link)

excerpt from interview with author Dan Brown:
"WHERE DID YOU GET THE IDEA FOR THE DA VINCI CODE?"
This particular story kept knocking on my door until I answered. I first learned of the mysteries hidden in Da Vinci's paintings while I was studying art history at the University of Seville in Spain. Years later, while researching Angels & Demons and the Vatican Secret Archives, I encountered the Da Vinci enigma yet again. I arranged a trip to the Louvre Museum where I was fortunate enough to view the originals of some of Da Vinci's most famous works as well as discuss them with an art historian who helped me better understand the mystery behind their surprising anomalies. From then on, I was captivated. I spent a year doing research before writing The Da Vinci Code.

"SOME OF THE HISTORY IN THIS NOVEL CONTRADICTS WHAT I LEARNED IN SCHOOL. WHAT SHOULD I BELIEVE?"Since the beginning of recorded time, history has been written by the "winners" (those societies and belief systems that conquered and survived). Despite an obvious bias in this accounting method, we still measure the "historical accuracy" of a given concept by examining how well it concurs with our existing historical record. Many historians now believe (as do I) that in gauging the historical accuracy of a given concept, we should first ask ourselves a far deeper question: How historically accurate is history itself?

I look forward to the discussion (and ensuing controversy, I assume) this might generate in the populace...it'll be interesting!- sylphiend

Thursday, April 27, 2006

Brace yourself....(this is DANGEROUSLY cute!)


"Before" and "After" the Pantene Pet Beauty Treatment

"you look like a good hugger"

"is it...safe yet?"

"hey, this party is really 'the cat's pyjamas'!

"I wuuuf you." "No, I wuf YOU."

it's a hard knock life...

"You are SO the smallest!"
"please don't hate me because I am bee-yoo-tee-ful"...

(okay, this one makes me actually melt in front of the computer..........)

Feeling powerless in the face of global events?

Consider this statement by Dr. F. William Sunderman, active to age 104:

"How infinitesimal is the importance of anything I do, but how infinitely important it is that I should do it."

Why I like the Irish

"Fighting for peace is like screwing for virginity."
---The Irish Times, Washington, DC

Joseph Rotblat, Nobel Peace Prize Winner - Remember Your Humanity

an excerpt: "I saw science as being in harmony with humanity. I did not imagine that the second half of my life would be spent on efforts to avert a mortal danger to humanity created by science. The practical release of nuclear energy was the outcome of many years of experimental and theoretical research. It had great potential for the common good. But the first the general public learned about the discovery was the news of the destruction of Hiroshima by the atom bomb. A splendid achievement of science and technology had turned malign ... Let me remind you that nuclear disarmament is not just an ardent desire of the people, as expressed in many resolutions of the United Nations. It is a legal commitment ... for the sake of humanity - we must get rid of all nuclear weapons." ---

What's amazing about this speech, as urgent and timely as it reads...is that it was written in 1955.

and now a bit of sillyness "Painful Childhood Picture"


I was never a pretty child...
born hairy, was playful and sweet (I'm told). Although painfully shy, I was invincible on the monkeybars at recess!

This is my First Grade photo. I was quite camera-shy at first and trying to make my nose disappear in this shot.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

(click here) from the "Dept. of the MISGUIDED"- Baby Chicks in the Mail

Does (the above link) make you sick enough about how people can be so dazed?? The only one that thinks this barbaric act is a "good idea" is the idiot money-grubber who stands to gain a nickel off the naivete of some well-intentioned but NAIVE people.

**ugh**

Please, if you know someone who thinks baby ducks and baby bunnies are cute for Easter, send them this this link (or something gentler). Don't buy animals like they are seasonal accessories. Living species should all be cared-for and the buyer should be prepared to stay with them and nurture them for a while LONG AFTER Easter Holiday and the chocolate egg easter hunt has come and gone...

Instead, why not take the kids to the SPCA and pet some needy doggies and kitties, even the odd rodent. Love the pets that are out there and are already so in need of attention.

Thanks, friends.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Sunday, April 23, 2006

"Animal Sightings"

aint he pretty though?

Simon



My favourite wabbit (keeping granny company)

Poll

If a bunch of existentialists meet at a convention...are they really there?


A) No
0 / 0.00 %

B) Yes
0/ 0.00 %

C) F*** off and die, idle pigs
0 / 0.00 %

D) owww..my brain hurts now!!!
1 / 16.67 %

E) Yes and No
3 / 50.00 %

F) I don't answer existentialist-minded polls.
0 / 0.00 %

G) ...(no answer)
2 / 33.33 %

H) Other?
0 / 0.00 %

6 Total Votes Recorded.

uh, a "Memorable" last day of work...

I had written this in an email to my brother. He found it so ludicrous that I thought I would 'share' the shame.

How was my last day at the job, you ask?? heh. Well, this is a typical example of the *fine* treatment I received there. (ahem) On my last day the boss, very nicely took me out for lunch. Two other people from the orifice came too. All was going very nicely and was pleasant enough. WELL.

After lunch and hearing one office person in particular drone on and on about mushrooms and plants (OY!!) and me basically sitting there listening to this rather masturbatory solliloquy (sp?) for and hour and a half (you know the type: cant' get a friggin' word in edgewise..they hog the mike, etc.), my eyes were starting to roll back into my head.

Well, I thought things were suddenly picking up when a small package was then presented to me. I was happy and genuinely said "Thanks" to all. Inside it: (here is gets good!) inside that pretty package (gift bag recycled, but who cares)...are two "(co. name)" mugs. These mugs are free every time a (co. name)convention happens and the sales guys attend. I already have a "(co. name)" cloth bag and another "(co. name)" plastic letter opener (haha). The beauty part is that these babies were from a shelf IN THE OFFICE where I WORK and OFTENTIME actually DUST !!! In fact, when presented to me, there is still DUST IN THEM! lol!

How the F(lock of seagulls) do ya like that?! How f*%@ cheap and cheesy! The boss says "So, you'll never forget us". uh, don't worry I shant. (shudder~~ if I ever have to stare down into the face of that filthy mug for a morning coffee and have thoughts relating to (co. name) shoot me!! )"Go 'way!"

(Author's note: hours later before I was to leave, I discreetly replaced one mug back on the shelf. On that blessed shelf there was...(*deep breath here*) an actual DUST RING from it beign missing FROM THERE. How did they figure I would not notice that these "gifts" are free giveaways from the shelf in front of my glorious desk?? I, lady-like still kept one filthy mug for politeness. Don't let it be said I am not gracious. Gracious, yes. Stupid, nay.

Of course, when they had been presented to me I smiled and said thanks and had a nice time at lunch anyway. But, really after hearing the spouting off (er, 'talking') about gays being a 'nuisance to society', and how canadians are weak for not supporting Bush in the "war on terrorism" and assorted other bullshit...my eyes had glazed over enough that I happily felt that vacating that position is SO the right thing to do. Thank you Universe, for pointing me towards my stuff and my people again! **YAY***

Take care bro. Call me when you can. Love to the kitties and Steph (not nec. in THAT order). Kick in the pants to yeh!

"Breakin' a Sweat"

wearing a thirty-something suit
she seeks the Warrior athlete within
stepping up, pulses pounding
movement, expanse, breath anew
a task again! a new bright task...
to breathe, to work hard
the warrior's body,
rusty
with neglect, passivity of years
remembering still
she remembers the old work...
how the machine was oiled
the warrior walks faster,
arms lunging forward--back straighter, solid trodding
systems flood with light and energy,
redness coloring the skin, nerves tensing alive!
alive again...what a rush, what a power, what a grand pain to be...
now the task, more painful still,
the reluctant warrior lays on the back, hands clasped behind
she tilts a might forward...
repeatedly so....repeatedly so, repeatedly so...she does not know her limits this time...only stopping shy...of
smelling burnt toast

meeting "The Waltons"

Tonight I met "The Waltons". I don't mean the stars of the old show from the 70's- I mean the real-life thing. I was invited to this picnic out in a place in the forest, a long drive away. When I finally got there, I was greeted by "Joe". He was an old timer who wore his working overalls, had a white beard and tight, taut muscles belonging to an old navy guy (which he had been).

He came down the front porch steps and greeted me with a firm hug rather than a handshake. Behind him a tableful of people sat under a large veranda. They scavanged on turkey, gravy, beans, red and white wines. They had never met me and asked not one question, except to say:"Do you want some turkey?" and " What kind of wine would you like?" All these generous offers. Some reached out across my plate to grab a bowl of some kind, with an "''scuse me". No pretense about my presence. I think I was kind of in heaven. After bloating up on the food, yes- everyone complained about their bellies...

Then I was given a tour of the house "ornaments". The rustic little house was chock full of Dalmatians trinkets-in every room, and hundreds of them! (crazily cute!)

My favourite part was when I went for a ride on this great tire swing that was braced by this big old tree next to the house. I was 'pushed' so high that I flew over a garage roof! Marshmallows, wet dogs, outdoor fire...the whole thing seemed right out of a movie. I burned a marshmallow, sat by the brook, talked with Joe, petted wet dogs, smelled fresh cedar leaves, swung on a star.

Man, did I feel lucky.

Braided Trunk



this little beauty lay coyly in some beautiful forest in Vancouver Island. I thought she needed some attention, so I took her picture.
This is me "Tempting the Fates" in Osoyoos...well, not really. It wasn't scary at all being lifted up there. It was exhilirating but more than that, it turned out to be kind of embarrassing....

The first time around, I couldn't LAND! The guy had told me 'tug' on the ropes (attached to the balloon) with one hand in order to steer and ultimately land. WELL.

First time around I 'tugged' like he had instructed, but it a useless attempt as I couldn't tug down hard enough to bring the balloon lower. Ha ha! The boat had to go around again and give me another attempt to land (this time I would tug on the rope with both arms!)

Cool thing is, I got a second go around for free and an extra ten minutes thanks to my feeble spaghetti arms. *Yay* (I strongly recommend using this tactic.


(the *red* at the bottom of pic is from Rod's embarrasment while waiting for me to land.)

Friday, April 21, 2006

The Wrong Lineup (old blog 06-28-04)

Elevator musak, bustling shopping carts set the scene at the large grocery chain.
With basket in hand, I look quickly and scout what looks to be the lineup with the "Most Potential for Moving the Fastest" since there are less people in line and a savvier-looking cashier. I gleefully step up. Then I realize: up before me is a little old man who has about 5 items: boxy things, like cookies, canned things and some tea. I smile inwardly for a mo. As his turn comes I use the time productively by preparing myself mentally: tallying up how much my small list of stuff with come to, how to pay, from what account etc. Well.

The old man cannnot hear very well when the total is called to him. He has blue very watery eyes. His hands tremble as he pulls out his old wallet, he coughs a little as he struggles to open it. His eyes are pale blue, they squint a little in the light as he hands a bill to the cashier. She says something to him. He says, "Oh, sorry...I can't see if I have that. Can you please look for me." He slowly passes the cashier his wallet. Some folks in the lineup behind me are doing the three step shuffle at this point. I sigh a little then resign myself to remain here. "I've got time", I figure. I have a fleeting impulse to help him, but the cashier has already pulled out some change for him.

It is apparently not quite enough. He has to draw an item back. He sighs a bit. He dabs at his watery eyes with a small kerchief from his pocket. He assesses his groceries for a moment before pulling out the boxed thing (he does not part with the tea, I note). His hands tremble again as he receives the change back from the cashier. He coughs a little again. I try not to stare. My eyes drift to the happily-bustling customers at the other registers. In other lineups, people who were later than me are already paying and passing through. I am still standing there. I tell myself: I have a propensity for picking the 'wrong lineup'- having the George Costanza (from "Seinfeld") sense the of picking the 'opposite' of the right thing. It is like a "Gift" (and no, I haven't the receipt to exchange it...).

The old man gathers his bag. He is still somewhat tall and looks like he might have been a looker in his day. Now he is meek, he moves so slowly. As he leaves he takes from his jacket pocket a small kerchief and wipes his watery eyes a little before moving forth.

In a moment, in his presence, I see my impatient, go-go-go life, the fast-moving mentality of my generation, my punch-card timing sense of the moving world around me. It's all jack-rabbit paces and aggressive inner-races.

Maybe this man had showed me something more. He reminded me of how to be patient and how to tolerate and how to pull out of the race...and how to love another. Even a perfect stranger.

I decided I had picked the right lineup after all. As he left I watched him and secretly sent a small wish that he might find some company for drinking his cup of tea.

from Kahlil Gibran (author of "The Prophet") [old blog 05-23-04]


"Earth"- an excerpt

We blaspheme and you consecrate.
We defile and you sanctify.
We sleep without dreams:
but you dream in your eternal wakefulness.
We pierce your bosom with swords and spears,
And you dress our wounds with oil and balsam.
We plant your fields with skulls and bones,
and from them you rear cypress and willow trees.
We empty our waste in your bosom,
and you fill our threshing-floors with wheat sheaves,
and our winepresses with grapes.
We extract your elements to make cannons and bombs,
but out of your elements you create lilies and roses.
How patient you are, Earth, and how merciful!
...You are "I" Earth,
had it not been for my being,
you would not have been.

(I thought these were beautiful words to share- sylphiend)

"The Moderns" (old blog 05-15-04)

I suddenly thought of this great line from a movie (poss. my favourite line?). In "The Moderns" based in the 1930's, this weary, older party girl with flaming red hair gets up at the crack of noon and opens the drapes and sees a gorgeous sunny day outside. She puffs on her extra long ciggie, and disgustedly announces (to no one in particular),

"Oh Christ, another f-f-fucking beauu-ti-ful day..."

The irony of that line made me laugh then, and that line still stands out for me.

Thursday, April 20, 2006

inspired by song "Be Clever, Not Beautiful" (old blog 05-15-04)

What is it about being clever or having to 'prove' that you are clever indeed? Why are we so hungry to relay this to others again and again (author included)? I look at so many of these comments and rather than ponder or contemplate a new thought from a post..sip on it for a while, swish it around in the 'glass' if you will...people feel the need to attest their intelligence with a certain indignance and be heard. Be clever right away. See me? Read my notes! quick, quick I know more...

I'm not dissassociating myself from this behaviour. Nay, far from it. Every so often I catch myself quickly running to note something and be a smarty-pants to prove my cleverness. It comes down to ego. How bruised is yours that you would rather be right all the time, than be open and humbled and thank someone for showing something new? How right do we have to be..?

hmm.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

first day bloggie blues...

I can exhale now. I am a student of life, a student of college and a student of many untold other things. Sometimes I feel like it's hard to completely detach from all things at once, in order to not be taking notes somehow. (Funny, how I find *recreation* in um, POSTING a blog!!...= still noting things!) Anyway, my term has come to an end, I have two more exams...then for a little while I will have my small glories. I have two weeks unfettered freedom in which to laze around in...go for walks in...make much-delayed social visits in...read more of the books that I have eyeing all year long...and other stuff. Can't wait. Almost there, almost there. Must. Stay. Focussed. Two more days. To go. Must stay. On. Tr. Tr. Tra..ack.

k, that's it for now. I have declared tonight a rest day and this evening's past agenda of homework and study has been postponed to tomorrow.

Today has been cancelled, you can all go home. No classes.

Cheers