tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367741352024-02-07T18:15:21.076-08:00The Bane of ParacelsusAlle Ding' sind Gift und nichts ohn' GiftAnselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-31390137360017411672010-04-23T09:04:00.000-07:002010-04-23T10:03:26.879-07:00A FuneralYou know how some movies show a flashback of the protagonist as a kid staring at a dead cat? The scene does a moving close-up of the kid's face, then back to the cat, then back to the kid, then back to the cat...until we only see the eyes of each, and it's supposed to be a poignant device to explain the protagonist's later actions in light of his/her personal emotions surrounding death, but really it's just awkward because kids are creepy when they stare at things? Ummm...nope. No, I don't think I've seen a movie like that either. Ever. But if it did exist, the device would seem to make my recent musings on death a lot less morbid and a little more...poetic?. I have been thinking about death a lot, but there aren't any tire-tatooed cats <span style="font-style: italic;">per se</span>. Maybe, I'm listening to too much of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Smiths</span>. In any case, if this is foreshadowing of my impending doom, here's a list of songs that would make a great funeral:<br /><br />1. "The Funeral" by Band of Horses<br />2. "Poughkeepsie" by Over the Rhine<br />3. Amazing Grace on bagpipes<br />4. "It Is Well With My Soul" by Horatio Spafford<br />5. "And Can It Be" by Charles Wesley (especially the last stanza...awesome)<br /><br />*As a post-script, I should clarify this is navel-gazing and not the seeds of madness. Put that straight jacket down. Put it down! Thank you. <br /><br />Now for your enjoyment..."The Funeral" (as interpreted by Liz Lee). This clip is from a scripted reality show called "My Life As Liz" (kind of a hipster version of The Hills) and is set during a talent show. This is her "Susan Boyles" moment:<br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/E6NxjNyYq1s&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/E6NxjNyYq1s&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-22043171447060150022010-02-03T08:58:00.000-08:002010-02-03T10:06:58.805-08:00The BandsI sometimes feel the need to entertain the illusion that I have some control over life. That's when I make lists. Here's my first list in no particular order:<br /><br />Top Ten Favorite Bands:<br /><br />1. U2<br />2. Smashing Pumpkins<br />3. Weezer<br />4. Better Than Ezra<br />5. Arcade Fire<br />6. Nirvana<br />7. Muse<br />8. Radiohead<br />9. Gomez<br />10. Counting Crows<br /><br />Can you guess my formative music appreciation decade?Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-72304332800306026352009-09-30T07:40:00.000-07:002009-09-30T07:43:08.097-07:00The Boy Who Harnessed The Wind<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/arD374MFk4w&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/arD374MFk4w&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />This is the type of story I wish we could see everyday (coming out of Africa).Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-49018575811975607552009-07-13T09:48:00.000-07:002009-07-13T09:52:49.720-07:00Is this how its supposed to be?It's weird when you hear a song...and the song is talking directly to you. <br /><br />Intervention by Arcade Fire from Neon Bible<br /><br />The king's taken back the throne<br />The useless seed is sown<br />When they say they're cutting off the phone<br />I'll tell 'em you're not home<br /><br />No place to hide<br />You were fighting as a soldier on their side<br />You're still a soldier in your mind<br />Though nothing's on the line<br /><br />You say it's money that we need<br />As if we're only mouths to feed<br />I know no matter what you say<br />There are some debts you'll never pay<br /><br />Working for the church<br />While your family dies<br />You take what they give you<br />And you keep it inside<br />Every spark of friendship and love<br />Will die without a home<br />Hear the soldier groan, "We'll go at it alone"<br /><br />I can taste the fear<br />Gonna lift me up and take me out of here<br />Don't wanna fight, don't wanna die<br />Just wanna hear you cry<br /><br />Who's gonna throw the very first stone?<br />Oh! Who's gonna reset the bone?<br />Walking with your head in a sling<br />Wanna hear the soldier sing<br /><br />Working for the Church<br />While my family dies<br />Your little baby sister's<br />Gonna lose her mind<br />Every spark of friendship and love<br />Will die without a home<br />Hear the soldier groan, "We'll go at it alone"<br /><br />I can taste your fear<br />It's gonna lift you up and take you out of here<br />And the bone shall never heal<br />I care not if you kneel<br /><br />We can't find you now<br />But they're gonna get their money back somehow<br />And when you finally disappear<br />We'll just say that you were never here<br /><br />Been working for the church<br />While your life falls apart<br />Singing hallelujah with the fear in your heart<br />Every spark of friendship and love<br />Will die without a home<br />Hear the soldier groan, "We'll go at it alone"<br />Hear the soldier groan, "We'll go at it alone"Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-70236727290194219012008-07-25T09:02:00.000-07:002008-12-09T19:40:02.978-08:00The Redemption of Arthropods<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUCzWUMQJuMoWNwq6OqkU1-LBv0hEXLet0XPuDNFpXdqklqCHwBEx2vxWPRtd2-ZKLfTU2vWDaRFnWYY5WBAZ5JZg2jtkkt9aB7VtxKis2m00qq7otkfydT3T5yoJYyawf-ZNdhw/s1600-h/scarab1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUCzWUMQJuMoWNwq6OqkU1-LBv0hEXLet0XPuDNFpXdqklqCHwBEx2vxWPRtd2-ZKLfTU2vWDaRFnWYY5WBAZ5JZg2jtkkt9aB7VtxKis2m00qq7otkfydT3T5yoJYyawf-ZNdhw/s320/scarab1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226984883013073314" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWrEx14N7bE7dcooc9HgjychbmX1KPfRhpQajbyJEr4fLd3ihqikiDqvVbHNrLJIsYnrIgOpFsJb0buqx40uoJojLdRSCeslmgxxSqL6NkONolvdER4JYE6-pkRZrVzTLXzPqjjw/s1600-h/scarab2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWrEx14N7bE7dcooc9HgjychbmX1KPfRhpQajbyJEr4fLd3ihqikiDqvVbHNrLJIsYnrIgOpFsJb0buqx40uoJojLdRSCeslmgxxSqL6NkONolvdER4JYE6-pkRZrVzTLXzPqjjw/s320/scarab2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226984812581733666" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpG8rzRM8aXc9WQ-ALh-mFU0a7IgSEWAM0GZHaFfzQ9LE7X4TYWXG1iA7Zy4JyzzK-t-bb9zppKV_SVcaY1-bKJ-bH-fCKW33-gd9KjzJogVCMQnGtbl-pA3UPyCPULGVi41fm_g/s1600-h/scarab3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpG8rzRM8aXc9WQ-ALh-mFU0a7IgSEWAM0GZHaFfzQ9LE7X4TYWXG1iA7Zy4JyzzK-t-bb9zppKV_SVcaY1-bKJ-bH-fCKW33-gd9KjzJogVCMQnGtbl-pA3UPyCPULGVi41fm_g/s320/scarab3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226984741051292386" border="0" /></a>I have been cursing the class Insecta all summer long, and then...I meet this gal. She's a beaut! I think its a type of Shining Leaf Chafer but I'm not 100%. It's family Scarabaeidae whatever it is. I could look at her all day. (Yes...that even disturbs me).Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-32837816838120056722008-06-30T11:53:00.000-07:002008-12-09T19:40:03.639-08:00Legitimizing NerditudeSo I started a new job, and now I look at stuff that people "found" in there food all day. It's funny having the opportunity to peer into the mind of people who operate under a completely different set of mores and concepts of right and wrong. It's amazing what people will try all in the name of the quick buck or "sticking it to The Man" with no rational awareness that what they are doing is illegal.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBcdl65PjONFbUQLAjFsllrrqjDjZjo1roC6esZZlBTwtqHDsHtN79h2lm9gwCyARhUGaBNEZriJYaVk5WHXUGWONQqEFLt1B0F6CbIvtyGvmUvp18ANOxsBbHRoQsld32ZNn1ag/s1600-h/gilderoy1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBcdl65PjONFbUQLAjFsllrrqjDjZjo1roC6esZZlBTwtqHDsHtN79h2lm9gwCyARhUGaBNEZriJYaVk5WHXUGWONQqEFLt1B0F6CbIvtyGvmUvp18ANOxsBbHRoQsld32ZNn1ag/s320/gilderoy1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217760171082591186" border="0" /></a><br />I do occasionally find beauty in the job. In the past two weeks, the lab has had a perpetual visitor at the door. A black bird (with two large orange spots on its wings), whom I have dubbed "Gilderoy", hangs out just outside the door and looks at himself in the glass all day. You scare him away, and he comes right back to peer at himself. He doesn't peck at the glass. He doesn't flap his wings. He just stands there, sings, and admires his impeccable visage. I think he may have dive-bombed one too many windshields.<br /><br />Also for your viewing pleasure: scenes from a microscope.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfloaX_jdLC3o_lID448o5A2F6MEWqr5RI7F-wh7VVgFVoj3lnFET3B4zNMd9Em5fWzr5rTbGAU1wyJVmS6YSrLFTXCch34lDaogzZbJymMbZeGhMYhKmdf3KyddlbYZHVYkjT3w/s1600-h/iodinecrystals1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfloaX_jdLC3o_lID448o5A2F6MEWqr5RI7F-wh7VVgFVoj3lnFET3B4zNMd9Em5fWzr5rTbGAU1wyJVmS6YSrLFTXCch34lDaogzZbJymMbZeGhMYhKmdf3KyddlbYZHVYkjT3w/s320/iodinecrystals1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217761337061535394" border="0" /></a>Iodine crystals under polarized light (63 x)<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-C1WUZfdGScxvqF8gSac6p0AhW2AyMOpqVk052bJORqCnEvKOT7uUU8PUBzzzxA2bose2Y913CzsxQ917w78UhuCGBxpA_VQnP5zgvtgzq7kMXOSHXI93UhLSUdywniPLoApSlw/s1600-h/polyester1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-C1WUZfdGScxvqF8gSac6p0AhW2AyMOpqVk052bJORqCnEvKOT7uUU8PUBzzzxA2bose2Y913CzsxQ917w78UhuCGBxpA_VQnP5zgvtgzq7kMXOSHXI93UhLSUdywniPLoApSlw/s320/polyester1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217761433737103410" border="0" /></a><br />PET under polarized light (100 x)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfDPe2_bxMw5xxzGYI9tJqg58uP6Sfym3xat6lcQaCW5t8aNkciMr8kNSzE8OK8fNkUR5wy8RDWdQ9SVZXijJ-CmkEBrN6mXVaQHLq1CY4Ob_yFShsiBgt5oS30GXqEzP_pqKpfQ/s1600-h/DSCN6317.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfDPe2_bxMw5xxzGYI9tJqg58uP6Sfym3xat6lcQaCW5t8aNkciMr8kNSzE8OK8fNkUR5wy8RDWdQ9SVZXijJ-CmkEBrN6mXVaQHLq1CY4Ob_yFShsiBgt5oS30GXqEzP_pqKpfQ/s320/DSCN6317.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217763806746506898" border="0" /></a>Glitter (100x)<br /><br /><br /> </div>Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-59798811857919703422008-04-24T08:18:00.000-07:002008-04-24T08:31:20.852-07:00The Firing SquadI had my thesis defense this past Monday. That's where you take the all the research you have done in the past 3.5 years, present it before the public, let the public rip you with questions, then let your committee tear you apart in a closed-door session, exit the session in shame and humiliation, and finally get called back into the session after an eternity of deliberation to see if you passed. Well...I passed, but will have to mend my defense-induced ulcers. It's weird...you would think that an advanced degree would somehow bolster your intellectual self-image, but I have never felt as stupid as I did during that two and a half hours. Me name Dan. Me go sleep. By-bye.Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-87960530105739277132008-04-18T13:10:00.000-07:002008-12-09T19:40:04.341-08:00Hey There, Boo Boo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXrXZJlX8mTuXDPna5doJN5UmYcKeIe_HbpEMYpUg9_GwulCDCk7mKcRGA1y-eQM7WKtWRg5v5fQuO-_r-xP-M2IYcIlojIQs_EGTeMei0ap_WHO_6sMmWzZIy7VpVMaF3yFNoJQ/s1600-h/Bear_151.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXrXZJlX8mTuXDPna5doJN5UmYcKeIe_HbpEMYpUg9_GwulCDCk7mKcRGA1y-eQM7WKtWRg5v5fQuO-_r-xP-M2IYcIlojIQs_EGTeMei0ap_WHO_6sMmWzZIy7VpVMaF3yFNoJQ/s320/Bear_151.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190685597568298914" /></a><br />Sometimes, instead of Build-a-Bear workshops in the mall, I wish they had Beat-A-Bear workshops. This would entail beating the stuffing out of a bear in lui of putting the stuffing in. If society had some sort of visceral, public outlet to sublimate angst and aggression, I think we would be better off. You may say that this niche is accommodated by organized sports and video arcades, however, football does not allow bear abuse and video games perpetuate social non-action. Moreover, bears have nothing to contribute to society or culture but chronic grumpiness and picnic theft. Down with the bear!Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-51050327113568388482008-04-18T12:51:00.000-07:002008-04-18T13:07:16.420-07:00Bienvenidos a la mondial real.I have a job (and it isn't Home Depot)! Wednesday, I was contacted by a small feed microscopy firm here in Manhattan who happened to see my posting on the university career services website. Thursday I had a 2.5 hour interview, and Friday I was made an offer (which was quickly accepted). I am a forensic food microscopist for Alteca Ltd. <a href="http://www.alteca.com/">(http://www.alteca.com/</a>), which means...well, I can't really tell you what it means because I just signed a non-disclosure agreement. Anyway, its funny how God chooses to answer prayer like the bomb diffuser in movies, always at the last second. I am constantly humbled by his provision and faithfulness, and it perpetually amazes me how little faith I often demonstrate despite this constancy. Thank you to everyone who has been praying for us in this matter. We really do have it good.Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-12187481268647847172008-01-25T14:14:00.000-08:002008-01-25T14:47:25.604-08:00My Top 10 Movies of 2007 (That I've been able to see so far)10. The Simpson Movie: Almost 20 years in the making, this actually turned out to be a decent film and not just a two hour rehash of old material. I don't usually laugh out loud when I see comedies by myself in the theatre, but this was an exception to the rule. <br />9. The Host: Who knew that a Korean monster movie would make my list? I sure didn't. Best creature flick since Tremors.<br />8. The Bourn Ultimatum: If you told me seven years ago that Matt Damon would crank out a butt-kick franchise better than the recent James Bond series I would laugh in your face. Here is exhibit number three of that gaffe.<br />7. Waitress: Don't watch unless you want to crave pie for the following month.<br />6. 3:10 To Yuma: Thank you James Mangold, for bringing back the Western.<br />5. Hot Fuzz: The British + warm guns = happiness<br />4. Juno: Quirky script and amazing character development. Yes...I laughed audibly at this movie as well.<br />3. Ratatouille: Suddenly I don't feel so paranoid and disgusted by the possibility of rats in a restaurant kitchen.<br />2. No Country For Old Men: Tommy Lee Jones's monologue at story's denouement continues to haunt me to this very moment. A fine work from my favorite Director/Producer duo: the Coen Brothers.<br />1. There Will Be Blood: I can probably count on both my hands the performances/actors that I have seen in film that have completely floored me and left me with a new appreciation for the craft of acting. Daniel Day-Lewis is one of them. The films of P.T. Anderson all have a residual sorrow that leave the viewer (or at least myself) in a sort of spiritual malaise. You associate so easily and magnificently with the characters, that their tragedy, to some extent, becomes your own tragedy.<br /><br />Note: These are movies that I personally enjoyed but do not necessarily recommend to EVERYBODY. Pick and choose at your own discretion. Thank you.Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-80789768128134217042008-01-24T17:25:00.001-08:002008-01-24T17:30:20.497-08:00Where Am I Going? Where Are You Taking Me?Since my interview with the Nebraska State Patrol has been so widely publicized, I feel obligated to share about my experience involving sitting in front of a panel of hardened cops and groping for words expressing why I'm the best candidate for the position. I happen to have a clip of the interview. Enjoy. <br /><br /><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/lj3iNxZ8Dww&rel=1"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lj3iNxZ8Dww&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object>Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-76224075900364372142008-01-12T09:19:00.000-08:002008-12-09T19:40:05.001-08:00Another crisis averted<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7wPwp_z7egGTv5XVg0yqALKruiJeYRpdfwYHo0GAMPRAaFTP_3F4R-VVyF8L4M4RaIKFH8lCzPzKjB3zwWHHH8z2QSm2272DqshGDSqXuJApcN4wDRX1EF79URTlc9BSJ9iuptQ/s1600-h/signbananapeel.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7wPwp_z7egGTv5XVg0yqALKruiJeYRpdfwYHo0GAMPRAaFTP_3F4R-VVyF8L4M4RaIKFH8lCzPzKjB3zwWHHH8z2QSm2272DqshGDSqXuJApcN4wDRX1EF79URTlc9BSJ9iuptQ/s320/signbananapeel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154641576469306242" /></a><br />Yesterday I was driving in my car and saw a banana peel in the middle of the road. It made me laugh but I avoided it all the same.Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-53690458018312951942007-12-21T09:41:00.000-08:002007-12-21T09:56:42.225-08:00And I thought it would be much less.<a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/fight5" style="display: block; background: url(http://assets.justsayhi.com/badges/385/133/fight5.ux4ttis1al.jpg) no-repeat; width: 296px; height: 84px; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 42px; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; text-align: center; padding-top: 145px;">22</a><p><small><a href="http://www.justsayhi.com">100% Free Dating</a> at JustSayHi.com</small></p>Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-12527041141097389632007-12-13T11:51:00.000-08:002008-12-09T19:40:05.134-08:00A lot of B.S. (Two, in fact)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Xc2SrAPt-uS-x9vjKB0an33sodzgrL4JR-JE5xNVgJXZJ1EkZz3_4dhWBvd3MGEniB9tun7yTmgDPMsvJA1zuEB2ijxLLmJiAlO4T-823NOctZWU_0vDveAwUX1DkoLYGehtrQ/s1600-h/Graduation'07.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Xc2SrAPt-uS-x9vjKB0an33sodzgrL4JR-JE5xNVgJXZJ1EkZz3_4dhWBvd3MGEniB9tun7yTmgDPMsvJA1zuEB2ijxLLmJiAlO4T-823NOctZWU_0vDveAwUX1DkoLYGehtrQ/s320/Graduation'07.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143548085194561618" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Commencement over. Finals done. Peanut butter jelly time!</div>Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-79979372554495172582007-09-28T13:53:00.000-07:002007-09-28T13:54:32.471-07:00Fun with a mac!<embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=5117043913476492557&hl=en" flashvars=""> </embed><br /><br />My first music video.Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-5997659793394885072007-09-11T09:39:00.000-07:002008-12-09T19:40:05.473-08:00Mini me(s)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijUPZSa9j3gX0pPpju7dGYxrDYlyMOxINmeF4uVsZ3zXD4ju1F5t8YQPG14h0hlUrZSFSScsMLeBzF1wm0mxNKY-K6qG1atbkskTpzbDXs_7T5qm6BZL96lY28nXmjHAtp4nh5RQ/s1600-h/ppgg2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijUPZSa9j3gX0pPpju7dGYxrDYlyMOxINmeF4uVsZ3zXD4ju1F5t8YQPG14h0hlUrZSFSScsMLeBzF1wm0mxNKY-K6qG1atbkskTpzbDXs_7T5qm6BZL96lY28nXmjHAtp4nh5RQ/s400/ppgg2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108987814283327298" /></a><br /> My new Purple Power Princess!<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuuIH1TmItAZuITt1z5HoQyDL7HlO64Q-kXcUfMC7oD00cDZMVGY8LXc29lOXST8Kc8qQT1FST6sTSskiU6Ucff_bsYL2hQ7TbSW7OQhptHuR40P3oIqKam7vPb__z2tCkJWG7lw/s1600-h/purplekids2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuuIH1TmItAZuITt1z5HoQyDL7HlO64Q-kXcUfMC7oD00cDZMVGY8LXc29lOXST8Kc8qQT1FST6sTSskiU6Ucff_bsYL2hQ7TbSW7OQhptHuR40P3oIqKam7vPb__z2tCkJWG7lw/s400/purplekids2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108988265254893394" /></a><br /> Purple Power brotherly love.Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-39098764285109739722007-07-04T21:42:00.001-07:002008-12-09T19:40:05.851-08:00Good Fences Make...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQLhhlzHd8tzJN0t6EHjfaIEN-rQfsyysxsboJnk4K_3yjEqiwfwEYYGUI24me1kxxcMyZEJtnXMxm9YcBtkbxQtxJbyw_2pQbQWGHexC5zPfv18JKiaRlS39Scagu0CQRyjqTqA/s1600-h/June2007+018.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQLhhlzHd8tzJN0t6EHjfaIEN-rQfsyysxsboJnk4K_3yjEqiwfwEYYGUI24me1kxxcMyZEJtnXMxm9YcBtkbxQtxJbyw_2pQbQWGHexC5zPfv18JKiaRlS39Scagu0CQRyjqTqA/s400/June2007+018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083571153521584162" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">This is what happens when you build a fence in loose soil. The city tore up the fence line in our backyard to fix a sewer main and promised to come back and ameliorate the mess they caused. Apparently the city did not move fast enough for our neighbors, and the fence was back up in a matter of days.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYqlgs5rcRA4Diq7X7TTRyLSepHNBq3dZpmTk2c5DqeqMdWoZSD8r3D8HGUW4i6Bw-wfRPHGf4UieyvS_CQHvrjzRODUK8fmL1B1BoyjoaM5uKl8QIRO7HvMw0Jh3tuJqOtyBMqA/s1600-h/June2007+020.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYqlgs5rcRA4Diq7X7TTRyLSepHNBq3dZpmTk2c5DqeqMdWoZSD8r3D8HGUW4i6Bw-wfRPHGf4UieyvS_CQHvrjzRODUK8fmL1B1BoyjoaM5uKl8QIRO7HvMw0Jh3tuJqOtyBMqA/s400/June2007+020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083569512844077058" border="0" /></a> You can see that after the rains a couple of the posts sunk almost a foot (sock monkey added for your scaling convenience). It is my theory that our neighbors are ardent nudists, and have expediently constructed this block to avoid inconvenient lawsuits. I can't say that I've aggressively pursued a confirmation of this theory, but since our neighbors are in the AARP demographic, I consider this mystery a welcome boon to my continued breakfast appetite.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-3962497684185364852007-06-05T21:00:00.000-07:002008-12-09T19:40:06.147-08:00Mmmmm....bacon!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/05/25/monster.pig.ap/index.html"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtB0y1bJZbuQ9fsbT_F6dk4haLp1l3mEIMdcxh9zwoBKkrInAoC6ucHqeKgFSDdMNPIk0KZWH9wD4t9GTNepCi9y5b3EkB_eND6nJ1MSkpIZIfFb7cLuaipo6Az7iolf116V5QWg/s400/story.pig.ap.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072796706247612434" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">They grow 'em big in Alabamy!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div>Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-15333050334261655672007-05-25T13:06:00.000-07:002008-12-09T19:40:06.460-08:00Why I Loathe Damon LindelofAs an executive producer of a much-loved television serial, you have an obligation to your fans to occasionally toss them a freakin’ bone.<span style=""> </span>Having just watched the season 3 finale of Lost, I feel like Mr. Lindelof owes me 72 hours of my life back and a commensurate monetary reimbursement for the emotional investment I have put into his work .<span style=""> </span>Why, oh, why does he insist on producing five more questions for every question answered in the series?<span style=""> </span>Call me when the final season comes out on DVD. I can’t take this anymore!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEityCSD087JEBxFFrR3Stj5susRGJbEZVhyphenhyphenSLtyo6xBl7YPPLsKSZ_frxzjD37_FzDAvWtujSnGGQWBE1U2DKHFnIWHIOh1tniLAIea7ZVCl7AWM1B1F32Xh130oN33vxNm5K0Jng/s1600-h/lrg01.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEityCSD087JEBxFFrR3Stj5susRGJbEZVhyphenhyphenSLtyo6xBl7YPPLsKSZ_frxzjD37_FzDAvWtujSnGGQWBE1U2DKHFnIWHIOh1tniLAIea7ZVCl7AWM1B1F32Xh130oN33vxNm5K0Jng/s320/lrg01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068594848668336066" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAD3PduKfnGKaXcACo8ZB9lKNwXY6Meks8o0xZAU-Z8yHorq_GFR2eobRHBvMsx_3rEE0dXau2iVdyiBEFoQS6IS6lq9GI_UhHEkuGwa2zMsOEZT_Rg0fEK_V8FO_VMcoDWScpwQ/s1600-h/lrg02.jpg"></a><span style=""> </span> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><span style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">In addition to the airwave drug that Mr. Lindelof peddl</span></span><span style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">es, he torments the reclusive and oft-misunderstood community of graphic nov</span></span><span style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">el collectors.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">Listen to me, </span></span><span style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">Damon, there should be a clause in the Geneva Convention that stipulates that you can not have the Incredible Hulk</span></span><span style=""><span style="font-size:100%;"> rip Wolverine into two pieces and forever leave your audience wiping up their spewed chocolaty YooHoo drink and dreaming about a wheelchair-bound, adamantium-laced gulomorph.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">I’m sticking to Archie you jerk!</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAD3PduKfnGKaXcACo8ZB9lKNwXY6Meks8o0xZAU-Z8yHorq_GFR2eobRHBvMsx_3rEE0dXau2iVdyiBEFoQS6IS6lq9GI_UhHEkuGwa2zMsOEZT_Rg0fEK_V8FO_VMcoDWScpwQ/s1600-h/lrg02.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAD3PduKfnGKaXcACo8ZB9lKNwXY6Meks8o0xZAU-Z8yHorq_GFR2eobRHBvMsx_3rEE0dXau2iVdyiBEFoQS6IS6lq9GI_UhHEkuGwa2zMsOEZT_Rg0fEK_V8FO_VMcoDWScpwQ/s400/lrg02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068595063416700898" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ylP8TYZVNvRU2zSt_cNyptiWIsXQ0NnuqJoRiBuWYKUC9yzhIovAOtraJMqg_wGT5vPKi4xD1p0VzOnPHrem4-_1bVJn0c5To4LCn5kNkc_nxV0o52hQgGP08BCTvarlBO6UNg/s1600-h/thm02.jpg"><br /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> <span style=""><br /></span></span></p>Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36774135.post-52451860357459823732007-05-22T13:46:00.000-07:002007-05-22T14:37:27.305-07:00A Farewell to IngridIt's a weird concept to me that I no longer have to keep my thoughts and feelings locked away in my pretty, black velvet, pony-jumping-rainbow diary. The cathartic ramblings of an introverted misanthrope can now be magically transformed into words of misguidance and cheap entertainment for a voyeuristic and critical society. The truth is, I take solace in the fact that, unless I become Katie Couric's meal ticket on the 6 o'clock news, this blog will never be viewed but by a handful of people. I can say things like: "poop" and "it was only on <span style="font-weight: bold;">top</span> of the trash pile so I ate it" and not be judged by the contingency of idiots who actually watch and enjoy Katie Couric. I hate blogs...or at least I used to. It now joins my list of "Things I Used to Hate, but Now Marginally Entertain" along with cell phones, mushrooms, and carnival folk. To me, "blog" sounds like the monosyllabic logorrhea you would hear from a Saturday-morning-cartoon alien race that's trying to converse with the more intelligent (or are they?) throng of cute little forest creatures (hilarity ensues). At any rate, most anything I initially hate, I eventually realize I can tolerate in small doses. Hence my Paracelsian mantra: <span lang="de" lang="de"><i>Alle Ding' sind Gift und nichts ohn' Gift; allein die Dosis macht, dass ein Ding kein Gift ist ("</i></span>All things are poison and nothing is without poison, only the dose permits something not to be poisonous"). "Goodbye," my teenage-angst-holding diary with a heart shaped lock; "Hello," internet.Anselmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17866717471555239150noreply@blogger.com3