My grandparent was "International Humanist of the Year," blacklisted by McCarthy, had dinner with the Kennedys after picketing the White House, and was one of the most important scientists of the 20th century.
My parents were both Phd scientists, one of whom was instrumental in California science curriculum before his death.
I learned a long time ago that information is far more important than who gives you the information. Facts are facts; opinions are opinions. Don't come around telling me I am "conservative" or "liberal" and therefore have an opinion that stops at the end of my own sentence.
You want to fly in the face of logic and facts, go ahead, but don't be the reason other people think progressives are unreasonable dumbshits who justify their actions by their opinions.
If you know you believe something, be able to back it up with fact instead of rhetoric. Don't just shout down the facts because they disagree with your rhetoric.
My parents were both Phd scientists, one of whom was instrumental in California science curriculum before his death.
I learned a long time ago that information is far more important than who gives you the information. Facts are facts; opinions are opinions. Don't come around telling me I am "conservative" or "liberal" and therefore have an opinion that stops at the end of my own sentence.
You want to fly in the face of logic and facts, go ahead, but don't be the reason other people think progressives are unreasonable dumbshits who justify their actions by their opinions.
If you know you believe something, be able to back it up with fact instead of rhetoric. Don't just shout down the facts because they disagree with your rhetoric.
Last Monday was a surreal day after a surreal week. It all started a few weeks before with a jury summons.
There were 60 people being called in to select 14. I made the cut. We sat for three days listening to testimony, seeing evidence, and taking notes. I went through two notepads, without a single doodle. Never getting drowsy, always paying attention, I saw firsthand the horrible pictures of the crime scene and victim of this event:
Crime Story
After the trial was over, I learned more about the young man on trial. It seems he's been a thug his entire life, with an extensive rap sheet. There are some people, when one looks in their eyes, that are missing a soul. This man is one of those.
37 minutes after shooting this man through the eye, instantly killing him, he was buying cigarettes with his credit card. He and his cohort are evil beyond my scope of comprehension.
That Monday morning, as we sat in the jury room deliberating, we took a straw vote to find where we stood. There were 12 counts, and a 10-2 split on three major charges. I was one of the two. The others thought there wasn't enough to convict, but I stuck to my guns. So did the other fellow. After carefully explaining my reasoning, and critical analysis of the law, we were able to return a unanimous decision on every single charge. On one charge, innocent, on all others, guilty.
It was a wonderful experience to read the verdicts in open court (I was foreman). The very first charge, malice murder, had such a high threshold that a conviction is rare. When I said "innocent," the tension in the courtroom raised. Then the "guilty... guilty... guilty..." was read. For several minutes I spoke, and I was glad.
Justice works, sometimes. But justice can never restore. Once I sat down, the room was somber. A feeling o
Sentence
I'll never forget the photos. I'll never forget the murder. I'll never forget the hardened faces of the killers. But, the man who was left for dead made an impact on people that won't soon go away. The life of a good man can live beyond the grave, and is evident through his wife, children, and grandchildren. They are good people.
To all the people who bitched and moaned about being called into jury duty... fuck you. Just... fuck you.
There were 60 people being called in to select 14. I made the cut. We sat for three days listening to testimony, seeing evidence, and taking notes. I went through two notepads, without a single doodle. Never getting drowsy, always paying attention, I saw firsthand the horrible pictures of the crime scene and victim of this event:
Crime Story
After the trial was over, I learned more about the young man on trial. It seems he's been a thug his entire life, with an extensive rap sheet. There are some people, when one looks in their eyes, that are missing a soul. This man is one of those.
37 minutes after shooting this man through the eye, instantly killing him, he was buying cigarettes with his credit card. He and his cohort are evil beyond my scope of comprehension.
That Monday morning, as we sat in the jury room deliberating, we took a straw vote to find where we stood. There were 12 counts, and a 10-2 split on three major charges. I was one of the two. The others thought there wasn't enough to convict, but I stuck to my guns. So did the other fellow. After carefully explaining my reasoning, and critical analysis of the law, we were able to return a unanimous decision on every single charge. On one charge, innocent, on all others, guilty.
It was a wonderful experience to read the verdicts in open court (I was foreman). The very first charge, malice murder, had such a high threshold that a conviction is rare. When I said "innocent," the tension in the courtroom raised. Then the "guilty... guilty... guilty..." was read. For several minutes I spoke, and I was glad.
Justice works, sometimes. But justice can never restore. Once I sat down, the room was somber. A feeling o
Sentence
I'll never forget the photos. I'll never forget the murder. I'll never forget the hardened faces of the killers. But, the man who was left for dead made an impact on people that won't soon go away. The life of a good man can live beyond the grave, and is evident through his wife, children, and grandchildren. They are good people.
To all the people who bitched and moaned about being called into jury duty... fuck you. Just... fuck you.
Had a very good time at a shoot today with a couple of very pretty SuicideGirls.
I realized, based upon what I was thinking during the time, that A) I'm old, B) I am old, C) I'm not as young as I once was, and D) I'm truly an artist. I kept looking at them thinking things like, "Wow, her eyes are just great!", "Look at the curve right there where the rib cage ends," and "If she's doing that, is because the skeleton bends and turns like so..."
Ten years ago I don't think much of that would have occurred to me.
I realized, based upon what I was thinking during the time, that A) I'm old, B) I am old, C) I'm not as young as I once was, and D) I'm truly an artist. I kept looking at them thinking things like, "Wow, her eyes are just great!", "Look at the curve right there where the rib cage ends," and "If she's doing that, is because the skeleton bends and turns like so..."
Ten years ago I don't think much of that would have occurred to me.
Has anyone actually READ "Brave New World?"
The more I see the face of the new American politics, left and right, the more obvious is Huxley's genius. For a man born only 30 years after the civil war, and many decades before computing, he saw such a vision of what we'd become, and why.
Back then it was a horrible science fiction scenario. Now, well, it seems as time marches on, so does our craving for dependency on state and the freedom of soma.
Pass the kool-aide. Vote Obama so we can get it done. Or McCain, if you want to postpone it just a few more years.
The more I see the face of the new American politics, left and right, the more obvious is Huxley's genius. For a man born only 30 years after the civil war, and many decades before computing, he saw such a vision of what we'd become, and why.
Back then it was a horrible science fiction scenario. Now, well, it seems as time marches on, so does our craving for dependency on state and the freedom of soma.
Pass the kool-aide. Vote Obama so we can get it done. Or McCain, if you want to postpone it just a few more years.
A blind man sits sipping his beer at a bar and says, "Hey, bartender! You wanna hear a blonde joke?"
The bartender replies rather icily, " Buddy, there's three people here. Me, I'm blonde, the biker babe three stools down from you with the skulls and crossbones is blonde, as well as her butch girlfriend. You REALLY think you wanna tell that joke?"
The man paused with a pained look on his face, thinking before he replied, "Hell no. Not if I have to explain it three times."
The bartender replies rather icily, " Buddy, there's three people here. Me, I'm blonde, the biker babe three stools down from you with the skulls and crossbones is blonde, as well as her butch girlfriend. You REALLY think you wanna tell that joke?"
The man paused with a pained look on his face, thinking before he replied, "Hell no. Not if I have to explain it three times."
For the past while I've spent a lot of time working with kids at Children's Healthcare Atlanta. I've seen really tough stuff, but I've also seen absolutely wonderful things - amazing surgical results letting a deaf girl hear, spinal surgery to straighten horrific curves, facial reconstructions to remove hideous deformities, and much more. People like to be free with their praise of my work, but frankly, it falls on deaf ears. Talk is cheap.
The greatest gift we can give to anyone else is just ourselves. Things, or the lack of things, will always be there, but very few stretch themselves to contribute to the life of strangers in a face-to-face manner.
Two weeks ago I held the hand of a boy whose face was cut wide open in several places... a day earlier. His family didn't see it important to bring him in right away. After that I drew pictures with a little guy who had self-medicated and had to wait with mom until it was clear to go home. I've been there for scared kids going into major surgery, bored kids with no one there with them, angry kids who were abandoned, babies who craved touch, siblings of kids who were both bored and afraid of what was going on.
Being there for others is the very key to opening up your own life. Opportunity arises, and self-pity withers. It's the coolest thing in the world.
The greatest gift we can give to anyone else is just ourselves. Things, or the lack of things, will always be there, but very few stretch themselves to contribute to the life of strangers in a face-to-face manner.
Two weeks ago I held the hand of a boy whose face was cut wide open in several places... a day earlier. His family didn't see it important to bring him in right away. After that I drew pictures with a little guy who had self-medicated and had to wait with mom until it was clear to go home. I've been there for scared kids going into major surgery, bored kids with no one there with them, angry kids who were abandoned, babies who craved touch, siblings of kids who were both bored and afraid of what was going on.
Being there for others is the very key to opening up your own life. Opportunity arises, and self-pity withers. It's the coolest thing in the world.
It's been a STINKIN' long time since the last time I updated. Nobody called, nobody wrote. One can't expect it, of course.
Being old (45), self employed, and the dad of girls old enough to BE suicidegirls puts a different perspective from what is usually found here. I've discovered there just isn't any substitute for actually putting in the days that make up a life- the ups, the downs, the duldrums, and those times when life just seems to move so fast one wonders what's happening.
We have a special needs kid. Brain damaged from birth, bi-polar, and has an autistic condition. He started cutting himself yesterday. Higher incidence of suicide from any of the three, but the combination of all three is rather rare. This child is serious work, and serious heartbreak. Smart kid, very lost in the social world, desperate to fit in yet completely unequipped to do so. He feels he has to compete with his siblings, all super achievers who are either popular or super-popular, and a younger brother who is one of those kids who can excel at just about anything. I honestly can see no light at the end of his tunnel.
Days go from sunshine to rain rather quickly here with this family member. And non of the rest of us has the bi-polar to help that along.
Being old (45), self employed, and the dad of girls old enough to BE suicidegirls puts a different perspective from what is usually found here. I've discovered there just isn't any substitute for actually putting in the days that make up a life- the ups, the downs, the duldrums, and those times when life just seems to move so fast one wonders what's happening.
We have a special needs kid. Brain damaged from birth, bi-polar, and has an autistic condition. He started cutting himself yesterday. Higher incidence of suicide from any of the three, but the combination of all three is rather rare. This child is serious work, and serious heartbreak. Smart kid, very lost in the social world, desperate to fit in yet completely unequipped to do so. He feels he has to compete with his siblings, all super achievers who are either popular or super-popular, and a younger brother who is one of those kids who can excel at just about anything. I honestly can see no light at the end of his tunnel.
Days go from sunshine to rain rather quickly here with this family member. And non of the rest of us has the bi-polar to help that along.
