Deep Fried Live!

This is the only on-line cooking show hosted by a cephelapod that I am aware of.

It's not veggie freindly, but some of the nicest people I know eat the dead flesh of animals.
Freaks.

New feature at Google

I love maps in general. I like looking at them and reading the names of places. Maybe following up with a little history about a joint.

So I saw thins and decided to share.

"Look ma! I can see my house from here!"


Map feature in Google


With satellite imagry!!

365 and a Wakeup

I don't recall where I ran across this blog article by a soldier deployed in Iraq. (I really should take better notes.) His post on why HE was in Iraq touched me. He's there because it's the right thing to do. And he tells it much better than I could.

"What SPC Frances said as he sheepishly stood before my desk staring at the floor was “Sir, you’re like, ummmm, you know, really smart. And you’re doing this when you could ummmm, you know, so many other things. Don’t you wish you were, ummm doing something better?”.

The question is one I’ve heard from several well meaning individuals, but never, ever from a soldier. If it were possible I would have torn the implicit assumption that question housed and crushed it beneath my muddy heels. Because wrapped in that question like two fat maggots in an otherwise perfect roast sits two false postulates that have poisoned many clear thinking individuals. The first deadly lie is that soldiers are stupid. The second is that the Army is a dumping ground for people with no other options.

I paused for a long moment after SPC Frances asked his question, unsure of how to answer the question and simultaneously leach its poisonous implications. . . [More]

He's why I support the troops; why I vote for the people I vote for; why I talk to people about why they should do the same.

There is evil in the world. People like him are the reason people like you and I don't have to deal with it. People like him are heroes.

Intimacy within a group of friends

I was talking last week with some friends about intimacy; how we as a group get together weekly and have been for years and there is still a hesitation to open up and be intimate with the group.

I think that the biggest deterrent that came up was a fear of being judged.

As usual, I have mixed feelings about this.

I think that as responsible people we have an obligation to judge. I think that a fear of being judged poorly is a control in our society. I further think that judging within a group will improve (more on this in a second) one's powers of judgment.

The hard part about judging is finding balance. I tell my kids that they should assume people are good. But I also tell them that if there a person who looks wrong walking toward you, move away from them. There's a thin line between reasonable pre-judging based on experience and wisdom and prejudice based on fear and stereotype.

I think there are things that we all want to do or have wanted to do in the past that society as a whole may not have approved of. Maybe things that aren't illegal but just not right. What defines "not just right"? Other people. Other people judging you. It's a good thing.

The function of group judgment should be wicked strong (as they might say in the Boston of my imagination). The trick there is the group that's doing the judgment. If the judging group is not a sampling of the greater whole; instead, is a group that might reinforce the behavior being judged; all benefits of judgment is lost. If the fear of being judged harshly is stopping a person from revealing a behavior, perhaps they need to evaluate stopping that behavior.

Group judgment does not have to be negative though. Positive reinforcement is likely and should be encouraged. The above points are just as valid (with the alteration of the anticipation of being judged positively in place of fear of poor judgment).

In regards to intimacy, the evening made me recall a . . . . Poem (?) from my youth that has stuck with me over the years.

It was written by Piers Anthony to a teenager who was in desperate need of love. He wrote about her in the author's note of Wielding Red Sword (Full Note). I extracted the poem here:

• Chapter One: Once upon a time, there was a little unicorn. She lived in a shell.
• Chapter Two: There was a funny thing about this shell. No one else could see it.
• Chapter Three: But to her, it was very heavy, as if an elephant were on it.
• Chapter Four: Sometimes that shell just seemed to crush all the happiness right out of her.
• Chapter Five: Of course, she wasn't really a unicorn, because little unicorns don't' live in shells.
• Chapter Six: She was really an alicorn, which is a flying unicorn. Her mane was brown.
• Chapter Seven: Alicorns live in shells, because they like privacy. When anyone comes near, they close.
• Chapter Eight: Of course that means that hardly anyone ever sees an alicorn, which is unfortunate.
• Chapter Nine: Because alicorns are really very special creatures, when they come out of their shells.
• Chapter Ten: But the little unicorn didn't know she was an alicorn. She wanted to die. 
• Chapter Eleven: This is because a magical creature who stifles her magic is in deep trouble.
• Chapter Twelve: No one else understood about this, because no one else could see the shell.
• Chapter Thirteen: Except for maybe on old centaur; but he was too far away to help.
• Chapter Fourteen: He hoped the little unicorn would learned to fly, before she learned to die.

For me, intimacy with people outside of family never seemed to be necessary. It never paid to get too close to anyone because either they would move or you would move. I was never that close to my extended family; didn't have any close cousins to confide in. Even within my own family I don't recall being very intimate. It's just the way I'm wired I guess.

I try though. I see the value in it. And I'm getting better all the time. Practice, practice, practice.

Reflections on the Pope's passing

Yesterday I got a call from a non-Catholic friend offering condolences on the passing of Pope John Paul II. Susan said that she got a similar email. It's good to see that people of differing faiths can come together in so many things but especially at a time of sadness.

I saw the Pope say mass once. Granted, I was like a mile away but I felt it was something special, almost magical. He was God's spokesman and he spoke to us. It rocked.

Everyone and their mother on the internet is saying something about him and his passing. And I think that more will be said as time passed and history has time to judge.

But for me, I think that he died peacefully, perhaps joyfully.

When I was a student at St. Mary's College (now University of St. Mary) I worked food-service at the Sister's of Charity Motherhouse. It was a nursing home for nuns. And when these women became sick and got ready to die, they were seemed very happy. Happy to leave the weight of weak bodies and slipping minds. They expressed that they were ready be with God after years of service.

How great is that? Not just that you have been saved, but you gave your life to Him and now you get your reward.

And those were just your average (!) everyday nun. I'm going to assume that even a man as humble as John Paul II is looking forward to a reward for a job done well.

Rest in peace and Joy Karol Józef Wojtyła. You deserve it.

--Nunc dimittis servum tuum, Domine, secundum verbum tuum in pace
----Luke 2:29
Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word