Weblog
Monday, 30 November 2009
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i've luged
cuz i live in a land of plenty ice and snow
The Muskegon State Park luge run, operational since winter 1985.
the track ends at the right, next to the small brown building. first pic is taken from the top of the stairway, the track curves under it to the finish line.

hahaha, i didn't scream
(seems like all YT vids have a problem, suggest you start and pause till it buffers, then play for the full effect)
Below, the start of a $350,000 (part of a $700,000 grant from Kellogg’s Access to Recreation program for improvements to Muskegon State Park), 328-foot-long fiberglass wheeled-luge run that will allow the Winter Sports Complex and the Muskegon Luge Club to operate luge competitions and public introductory sessions 12 months of the year. The German-designed and constructed wheeled-luge track will be used when warm weather closes the Winter Sports Complex’s iced track during the winter months. The fiberglass luge track will be the first in North America and only the second in the world. It is based on the design of a much longer wheeled track in Zwickau, Germany. The new track will allow for competitive training and was endorsed by Muskegon’s two-time Olympic medalist, Mark Grimmette, who trained here. http://llibra.xanga.com/568036456/luge/
I am struck by all the "green" in the area, so many pines relieve some of the also beautiful starkness of the autumn and winter seasons. The wildlife in the area is awesome, deer, turkey, coyotes, pilated woodpeckers, hawks, bald eagles, a murder of crows... Not to mention the sound of Lake Michigan from my yard, it gives me a direct call every day, and i figure i should give it a straight response. I go to sit beside the fathomless depths, and the great lake and i can only pretend that all is all right with the world. Later that night i played volleyball with my trees.

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Support
for hope
for true change
for Peacefor these words and ideas of Michael Moore in an open letter found at HuffPo
Dear President Obama,
Do you really want to be the new "war president"? If you go to West Point tomorrow night (Tuesday, 8pm) and announce that you are increasing, rather than withdrawing, the troops in Afghanistan, you are the new war president. Pure and simple. And with that you will do the worst possible thing you could do -- destroy the hopes and dreams so many millions have placed in you. With just one speech tomorrow night you will turn a multitude of young people who were the backbone of your campaign into disillusioned cynics. You will teach them what they've always heard is true -- that all politicians are alike. I simply can't believe you're about to do what they say you are going to do. Please say it isn't so.
It is not your job to do what the generals tell you to do. We are a civilian-run government. WE tell the Joint Chiefs what to do, not the other way around. That's the way General Washington insisted it must be. That's what President Truman told General MacArthur when MacArthur wanted to invade China. "You're fired!," said Truman, and that was that. And you should have fired Gen. McChrystal when he went to the press to preempt you, telling the press what YOU had to do. Let me be blunt: We love our kids in the armed services, but we f*#&in' hate these generals, from Westmoreland in Vietnam to, yes, even Colin Powell for lying to the UN with his made-up drawings of WMD (he has since sought redemption).
So now you feel backed into a corner. 30 years ago this past Thursday (Thanksgiving) the Soviet generals had a cool idea -- "Let's invade Afghanistan!" Well, that turned out to be the final nail in the USSR coffin.
There's a reason they don't call Afghanistan the "Garden State" (though they probably should, seeing how the corrupt President Karzai, whom we back, has his brother in the heroin trade raising poppies). Afghanistan's nickname is the "Graveyard of Empires." If you don't believe it, give the British a call. I'd have you call Genghis Khan but I lost his number. I do have Gorbachev's number though. It's + 41 22 789 1662. I'm sure he could give you an earful about the historic blunder you're about to commit.
With our economic collapse still in full swing and our precious young men and women being sacrificed on the altar of arrogance and greed, the breakdown of this great civilization we call America will head, full throttle, into oblivion if you become the "war president." Empires never think the end is near, until the end is here. Empires think that more evil will force the heathens to toe the line -- and yet it never works. The heathens usually tear them to shreds.
Choose carefully, President Obama. You of all people know that it doesn't have to be this way. You still have a few hours to listen to your heart, and your own clear thinking. You know that nothing good can come from sending more troops halfway around the world to a place neither you nor they understand, to achieve an objective that neither you nor they understand, in a country that does not want us there. You can feel it in your bones.
I know you know that there are LESS than a hundred al-Qaeda left in Afghanistan! A hundred thousand troops trying to crush a hundred guys living in caves? Are you serious? Have you drunk Bush's Kool-Aid? I refuse to believe it.
Your potential decision to expand the war (while saying that you're doing it so you can "end the war") will do more to set your legacy in stone than any of the great things you've said and done in your first year. One more throwing a bone from you to the Republicans and the coalition of the hopeful and the hopeless may be gone -- and this nation will be back in the hands of the haters quicker than you can shout "tea bag!"
Choose carefully, Mr. President. Your corporate backers are going to abandon you as soon as it is clear you are a one-term president and that the nation will be safely back in the hands of the usual idiots who do their bidding. That could be Wednesday morning.
We the people still love you. We the people still have a sliver of hope. But we the people can't take it anymore. We can't take your caving in, over and over, when we elected you by a big, wide margin of millions to get in there and get the job done. What part of "landslide victory" don't you understand?
Don't be deceived into thinking that sending a few more troops into Afghanistan will make a difference, or earn you the respect of the haters. They will not stop until this country is torn asunder and every last dollar is extracted from the poor and soon-to-be poor. You could send a million troops over there and the crazy Right still wouldn't be happy. You would still be the victim of their incessant venom on hate radio and television because no matter what you do, you can't change the one thing about yourself that sends them over the edge.
The haters were not the ones who elected you, and they can't be won over by abandoning the rest of us.
President Obama, it's time to come home. Ask your neighbors in Chicago and the parents of the young men and women doing the fighting and dying if they want more billions and more troops sent to Afghanistan. Do you think they will say, "No, we don't need health care, we don't need jobs, we don't need homes. You go on ahead, Mr. President, and send our wealth and our sons and daughters overseas, 'cause we don't need them, either."
What would Martin Luther King, Jr. do? What would your grandmother do? Not send more poor people to kill other poor people who pose no threat to them, that's what they'd do. Not spend billions and trillions to wage war while American children are sleeping on the streets and standing in bread lines.
All of us that voted and prayed for you and cried the night of your victory have endured an Orwellian hell of eight years of crimes committed in our name: torture, rendition, suspension of the bill of rights, invading nations who had not attacked us, blowing up neighborhoods that Saddam "might" be in (but never was), slaughtering wedding parties in Afghanistan. We watched as hundreds of thousands of Iraqi civilians were slaughtered and tens of thousands of our brave young men and women were killed, maimed, or endured mental anguish -- the full terror of which we scarcely know.
When we elected you we didn't expect miracles. We didn't even expect much change. But we expected some. We thought you would stop the madness. Stop the killing. Stop the insane idea that men with guns can reorganize a nation that doesn't even function as a nation and never, ever has.
Stop, stop, stop! For the sake of the lives of young Americans and Afghan civilians, stop. For the sake of your presidency, hope, and the future of our nation, stop. For God's sake, stop.
Tonight we still have hope.
Tomorrow, we shall see. The ball is in your court. You DON'T have to do this. You can be a profile in courage. You can be your mother's son.
We're counting on you.
Yours,
Michael Moore
MMFlint@aol.com
MichaelMoore.com
Saturday, 28 November 2009
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random, it's all random
Given the bread and circuses for the masses
i prefer monty python's flying
but am not so much into popular culture
most of it makes me shudder in a
i really don't like women shaking their pom-poms while their dinosaur brains rattle
kind of way, not that a beauty queen couldn't be smart, and not that men are so smart either
generally or relatively speaking, of course
sigh, and it's not kind've (and the lamp plugz might have been funny if the pic weren't over a year old)
so i must have been (not of been, although kind've would have [not of, we need a verb, you know, some kind of action] kinda worked here) really bored (laundry day) to even click this link, only to find it kind of touches the way i think my sex shouldn't and should be. not that i have anything against Sarah per se, why, i know of two Sarahs that are very nice, one's in the bible, and one's a goth. imagine, making one plural
http://www.thenation.com/doc/20091214/pollittvertigo, funny men, a trampoline, and a bike, what's to fear

Animation illustrating relativity of simultaneity. The three events (A, B, C) are simultaneous from the reference frame of an observer moving at v = 0. From the reference frame of an observer moving at v = 0.3c, the events appear to occur in the order C, B, A. From the reference frame of an observer moving at v = -0.5c, the events appear to occur in the order A, B, C. The white line represents a plane of simultaneity being moved from the past of the observer to the future of the observer, highlighting events residing on it. The gray area is the light cone of the observer.
Time is not finished with me yet.
Even found some to hike with in what was probably the last day of its kind for 3+ months.
wooohoo I ran down the dune
then turned around and spied the moon
neon waves
and
particles
of dust
are all
my life is -
Analemma
a trace of the annual movement of the Sun on the sky. Taken exactly at 5:45 UT of every tenth day between August 30th 1998 and August 19th 1999 (two missed exposures November 26th and June 20th)

Friday, 27 November 2009
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a freighter floats
on a horizontal line between
heaven smudged clouds
and liquid fomented
in such a placid manner
braving north winds
and specters on white horses
roll in all the way out
they blew and snorted
loose leaves down
a black hole in
the center of
imagination still
the waves keep pounding
this is necessary no one said
that which cannot be denied
without contradiction
may not have to withdraw
together with the inevitable nature
of like thoughts rushing out
of time and mind
controlled by the merry go round of gravity
Now how should one take this word, thought the queen, be, for theories are no matter to me, i just be. Is it not astonishing that Penelope continued to weave and waited what seemed to be a lifetime for Odysseus to return to her from across the seas? Therefore willow weep not for me, for i see clearly now, the strange white apparitions that in my rear view mirror appear are not ghostly tears shed for thee. Rather would i take the branch into my mouth to relieve my pain, and let the rain moisten the plain of geometry, caroming us into a bath of milk and honey to anointeth breasts and thighs of chickens sesame seeded as if for a feast throughout the ages. Let us then, my belovéd, sit quietly alone together and sigh and smile at the weak force of the gravity of this situation, for who can change, by delight of the moon or sun, what may be.


