tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-92215451060220143182024-02-20T18:35:10.668-08:00Atomic Monkey Action SquadPhenomenally Conservative – Totally PrehensileAtomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-25972686303510589582015-04-02T16:13:00.002-07:002015-04-02T16:17:35.157-07:00Just a few random thoughts...<span style="color: yellow;"><b>During World War II</b></span>, the Nazi's loaded Jews onto boxcar trains, and shipped them off to concentration camps to be killed. At no point in that experience was it pleasant for the "passengers". If I was forced to try to find something, well, not "redeeming" of course, or even "remotely positive", but if we can settle with locating one single aspect that we could safely label "somewhat comparatively less hellishly awful than it could otherwise have been, while not intending to detract from the horror", I'd have to go with "at least they were the government's trains (or government commandeered trains), and although they robbed the Jews of everything they had, I don't think the Nazi's forced them to buy train tickets".<br />
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I bring this up because although I am not generally of a conspiratorial mindset, it's become pretty obvious and undeniable that Google is essentially just a big chunk of the unelected part of the Democratic-controlled portion of our government, and I'm not at all wild about the self-driving car they've got under development. I work in the software industry, and I know quite a few human beings (studying humanity is one of my hobbies)... and this leads me to understand that regardless of their stated or even honest intentions, it would only take a mere mouse-click to turn them into personal concentration camp trains with leather seating, satellite radio, and a 60-month payment plan borne by the occupants.<br />
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<span style="color: yellow;"><b>I know a lot of geeks </b></span>- especially Libertarian geeks - are looking forward to the Technological Singularity, whenever that's suppose to happen. Look, I know this isn't an original observation with me, so let me just jump on the bandwagon, join the choir, and engage whatever other cliche necessary to chime in and say I'm part of the crowd that's still plenty unhappy with all the apps I can't uninstall on my smartphone.<br />
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I'm not a complete Luddite... I mean I'll take a pacemaker, should that need ever arise, and I'll admit that zero-G exoskeletons sound pretty appealing (if they don't cause me to become even more overweight), but DNA (Direct Neural Access) hookups to instant demigod-like knowledge and SuperSavant+ memory seems just WAY too fraught with bored Russian hackers. Those guys I do NOT want jacking in, thank you very much.<br />
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<span style="color: yellow;"><b>I'm *STILL* not clear</b></span> why soon after the onset of a major war with Islamic terrorists, kicked off by the Islamic terror attacks of 9/11/2001, we elected a Muslim Sympathizer and Socialist Fellow Traveler as our president. Somehow I suspect a degree of subterfuge was involved...<br />
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<br />Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-26888471932205263032014-11-20T06:53:00.001-08:002014-11-20T06:53:15.980-08:00This isn't really a post, just a placeholder in which to store some math-oriented graphics.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSAuEKeR9PaLmGmn2E6exeTxCwa_QWsVXnTp7L4SB5vpgDt3RdNCKO__mf2r89gw4C-PsFF-FTrHYob2bhOUFXR3UExtEYbCGdhGkTMgYLhYpNqJctTep4gyxITVzZ7UKcMyHZy9leWVk/s1600/GoldenMultiSpiral2_CYAN_CW.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSAuEKeR9PaLmGmn2E6exeTxCwa_QWsVXnTp7L4SB5vpgDt3RdNCKO__mf2r89gw4C-PsFF-FTrHYob2bhOUFXR3UExtEYbCGdhGkTMgYLhYpNqJctTep4gyxITVzZ7UKcMyHZy9leWVk/s1600/GoldenMultiSpiral2_CYAN_CW.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GoldenMultiSpiral2_CYAN_CW.png</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtI43tY79wtUpPwFzhgoZnuMphRlI4CJM8ZYAxsoww05LHuAG0-UUVM45pn-WmwjA8Qo5ricd_JbGY-Vg9uCBZt0K_fLzKbp4SNM_FIONQctWHLprGavI1YvZXQrS3Hg7qufaDYQF6uQQ/s1600/GoldenMultiSpiral2_RED_CW.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtI43tY79wtUpPwFzhgoZnuMphRlI4CJM8ZYAxsoww05LHuAG0-UUVM45pn-WmwjA8Qo5ricd_JbGY-Vg9uCBZt0K_fLzKbp4SNM_FIONQctWHLprGavI1YvZXQrS3Hg7qufaDYQF6uQQ/s1600/GoldenMultiSpiral2_RED_CW.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GoldenMultiSpiral2_RED_CW.png</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGWBa-2BcYRv3DCQlEwwIG3cGQJ7m3VqHw_CwfetCg7PUycscoGU9PSADeTk1fXNA4LsRuniZCVMVWMWwXoRkCk0o1qOTTxMBxXFz3u9uYjlEinR1CodhAEmIaD4WnH2vYhIcJhiU1cZ4/s1600/GoldenMultiSpiral2_YELLOW_CCW.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGWBa-2BcYRv3DCQlEwwIG3cGQJ7m3VqHw_CwfetCg7PUycscoGU9PSADeTk1fXNA4LsRuniZCVMVWMWwXoRkCk0o1qOTTxMBxXFz3u9uYjlEinR1CodhAEmIaD4WnH2vYhIcJhiU1cZ4/s1600/GoldenMultiSpiral2_YELLOW_CCW.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GoldenMultiSpiral2_YELLOW_CCW.png</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8tRtRP0m8sLgprik89aKjQZsxdweImSkO8b4wT1tJ3Au3XlQ6RnpHHr2OmnwXSLAj6RouWigFGrJGcwcZm3MBRrDSiEOzVBw8io43Q-OXFJWpP4arGv46zbH0KqtYo6r5w11lN9z5aE4/s1600/GoldenMultiSpiralQuad_RED_CW.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8tRtRP0m8sLgprik89aKjQZsxdweImSkO8b4wT1tJ3Au3XlQ6RnpHHr2OmnwXSLAj6RouWigFGrJGcwcZm3MBRrDSiEOzVBw8io43Q-OXFJWpP4arGv46zbH0KqtYo6r5w11lN9z5aE4/s1600/GoldenMultiSpiralQuad_RED_CW.png" /> </a></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GoldenMultiSpiralQuad_RED_CW.png</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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That should do it for now...<br />
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<br />Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-42778194021341938202014-07-08T10:30:00.003-07:002014-07-08T16:09:25.084-07:00At Shelgeyr's InsistenceOnce again I'm being strong-armed to post another "odd Earth-pictures" holding area...<br />
Enjoy, if you're the type. <br />
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1) A high-altitude view of Eastern Europe: <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicE4gIOBd-iaenWhDayBed2TCub-o14Io_aO49XoOd19uTIlX0c3ajnPM_2vM0t-yW-Ljm942o_znSEGV0LDSUrmWstMV-id1JkFlN17SjfT-ofiFOQUX_TCMuA43M8uTvol3U6-JRyRM/s1600/EEE_Rings_base_blank.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicE4gIOBd-iaenWhDayBed2TCub-o14Io_aO49XoOd19uTIlX0c3ajnPM_2vM0t-yW-Ljm942o_znSEGV0LDSUrmWstMV-id1JkFlN17SjfT-ofiFOQUX_TCMuA43M8uTvol3U6-JRyRM/s1600/EEE_Rings_base_blank.jpg" height="475" width="640" /> </a></div>
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2) The Eye of the Urals - Coordinates: 55.986092°, 58.961792° <br />
( 55°59'9.93"N, 58°57'42.45"E)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhql6Pgho_hmOK0gMN7Ms155OtQR5Haxk8Htu7IRa1Qelmb8FmiEYCgmfCqrOSjSPdK2_yDbjFYF8i4-pg1l8WvR5dZ_NIgqcXzmPo6eMOQ5fk5UdTEqLFdBmK18X0qSdyAAhYoH67mgG4/s1600/EEE_Rings_Eye_of_the_Urals.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhql6Pgho_hmOK0gMN7Ms155OtQR5Haxk8Htu7IRa1Qelmb8FmiEYCgmfCqrOSjSPdK2_yDbjFYF8i4-pg1l8WvR5dZ_NIgqcXzmPo6eMOQ5fk5UdTEqLFdBmK18X0qSdyAAhYoH67mgG4/s1600/EEE_Rings_Eye_of_the_Urals.jpg" height="476" width="640" /></a></div>
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3) Ring: 1824.6 Km radius around 55.986092°, 58.961792°<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7xS48r4jMYLmEuaTXvYJA6VLHStTI-UELhfoHOlZij5Tor3H51g7V-ba0V2rFxa79ZqppzudMkeZVHmkvJp3QU4UGFtwwqmo0DFta7eQiXy8sLkEXf1Ab9EZMbhosP0DXQJEuBCUaBEs/s1600/EEE_Rings_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7xS48r4jMYLmEuaTXvYJA6VLHStTI-UELhfoHOlZij5Tor3H51g7V-ba0V2rFxa79ZqppzudMkeZVHmkvJp3QU4UGFtwwqmo0DFta7eQiXy8sLkEXf1Ab9EZMbhosP0DXQJEuBCUaBEs/s1600/EEE_Rings_01.jpg" height="476" width="640" /></a></div>
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4) Rings: 2024.6 Km radius around 55.986092°, 58.961792°<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZsXi8-N0TidLGixw1fDhp82CmGCPmQUGermTkab8gc-LV4pSz7sKIeTFfNBeuZI1acSUyXJgwGCXdPfBtlGNYrnSpvGSqHboQ-WqdJBSY8aEnMw9ykiMwY_6M4BiQKSScGz9xZ7mUJE/s1600/EEE_Rings_02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZsXi8-N0TidLGixw1fDhp82CmGCPmQUGermTkab8gc-LV4pSz7sKIeTFfNBeuZI1acSUyXJgwGCXdPfBtlGNYrnSpvGSqHboQ-WqdJBSY8aEnMw9ykiMwY_6M4BiQKSScGz9xZ7mUJE/s1600/EEE_Rings_02.jpg" height="476" width="640" /></a></div>
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5) Topography of Urals in relationship with rings (rotated CCW compared to above):<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5dQYx1W643goLA6gGpxauhwsOFdx9RAAcY7VOtJ_3SMcmtDi18b5xI9m2hhHSmxRxBdro0c4L5u3xtWF72Qx7Q-h5U592nl9hEltHFpcZHmovsy_QIvaGVHEIXeHsQBOdowvhlkbdgAM/s1600/Europe_Siberia_topography_02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5dQYx1W643goLA6gGpxauhwsOFdx9RAAcY7VOtJ_3SMcmtDi18b5xI9m2hhHSmxRxBdro0c4L5u3xtWF72Qx7Q-h5U592nl9hEltHFpcZHmovsy_QIvaGVHEIXeHsQBOdowvhlkbdgAM/s1600/Europe_Siberia_topography_02.jpg" height="560" width="640" /></a></div>
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6) Close-up of Topography:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5qV4gNraLksCvuDRQWZljFpl6maCbVryYkoL959FwxC_T0kGcshNaeKplQwUYuUYXQm_f-qvIo99pkiiI4HMDnESuE2q7ugETNwsKZhSGoe5g2ww3J-lfnrqit_ELV5x2YgdtIf4Gnog/s1600/Europe_Siberia_topography_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5qV4gNraLksCvuDRQWZljFpl6maCbVryYkoL959FwxC_T0kGcshNaeKplQwUYuUYXQm_f-qvIo99pkiiI4HMDnESuE2q7ugETNwsKZhSGoe5g2ww3J-lfnrqit_ELV5x2YgdtIf4Gnog/s1600/Europe_Siberia_topography_01.jpg" height="560" width="640" /></a></div>
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7) East Asian View, with additional rings at 3800 Km, 4273 Km, and 4630 Km:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAECCn3E69G3WxLJxKMBKcYE1rj5W_p1F6Qfwoj9DD9DWYZw2QUFPXQvcrbjbvm-thCelLEbwulMVeyknYOlikuOEXRvuvqfd4it617oXbX4lgqUyeRY_x77B4X7kaMEsu8cUF5lZG-48/s1600/EEE_Rings_03-5_EastAsia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAECCn3E69G3WxLJxKMBKcYE1rj5W_p1F6Qfwoj9DD9DWYZw2QUFPXQvcrbjbvm-thCelLEbwulMVeyknYOlikuOEXRvuvqfd4it617oXbX4lgqUyeRY_x77B4X7kaMEsu8cUF5lZG-48/s1600/EEE_Rings_03-5_EastAsia.jpg" height="570" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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8) Western European View with additional rings at 3800 Km, 4273 Km, and 4630 Km:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQKJ9pKsd2indcIae1CWWylJYh3cvoXPbQg0qbI9IE-4-C_O_5f9sv83-W9P25mVWX9_UPY1isXyjrkbTF6zDblFsktIVx7X-IH-uTAlyB5tlzED_IY3wLsCEqSiZXIei356307HPRBU/s1600/EEE_Rings_03-5_WesternEurope.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQKJ9pKsd2indcIae1CWWylJYh3cvoXPbQg0qbI9IE-4-C_O_5f9sv83-W9P25mVWX9_UPY1isXyjrkbTF6zDblFsktIVx7X-IH-uTAlyB5tlzED_IY3wLsCEqSiZXIei356307HPRBU/s1600/EEE_Rings_03-5_WesternEurope.jpg" height="570" width="640" /></a></div>
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9) Urals-Centered Event partially over-wrote prior major Russian Rotational Structure:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinkwnRThCC1OUDS6CbkQAXboW5926DY9fBghlsHobLDxAlcXH4dChMay4nQ8CstPRQ5sxHUit1e5nnZadmI7GUcBovKzJVlcvAnxXtSlQjPbDB4Gu9tRhKppT0ST57FmfZi7BOh52tT14/s1600/EEE_Rings_03-5_Partially_Overwritten.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinkwnRThCC1OUDS6CbkQAXboW5926DY9fBghlsHobLDxAlcXH4dChMay4nQ8CstPRQ5sxHUit1e5nnZadmI7GUcBovKzJVlcvAnxXtSlQjPbDB4Gu9tRhKppT0ST57FmfZi7BOh52tT14/s1600/EEE_Rings_03-5_Partially_Overwritten.jpg" height="476" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-37927185041639571932014-05-02T09:54:00.000-07:002014-05-02T09:54:11.056-07:00Expanded message 001 to Twitter user Professor-Solo @Trend_Breakers Background:<br />
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<![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">Professor-Solo
(@Trend_Breakers) tweeted at 3:05pm - 1 May 14: <br />
<br />
@SantasTavern @greencircleas @suey_park Then what is it? It sure as hell isnt
true. There is no other reason why WoC need to go blonde. (<a href="https://twitter.com/Trend_Breakers/status/461959549046370306">https://twitter.com/Trend_Breakers/status/461959549046370306</a>)
</span></blockquote>
<br />
I'm sorry, Professor-Solo, but you're profoundly wrong about that. WoC's motivation to go blond is rooted in the interplay between basic biology and the "signaling" manifestations impacting courtship rituals. And by "rituals" here I do not mean social constructs - not at all. I'm talking about instinctive behaviors.<br />
<br />
But I have to admit that you've inspired me. For several days I've been writing a response of sorts that has turned into another of my over-long blog posts which I'll be publishing at nukingpolitics.com when it is finished - hopefully sometime between this evening and next Tuesday (5/06/2014).<br />
<br />
Just as a teaser, the article will feature Kate Upton, Princess Madeleine of Sweden, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Phoebe Cates, and if I can manage to work them in then probably a reference to the girls from Babymetal as well.<br />
<br />
Stay tuned, and I'll tweet you an update when it is done and online.<br />
<br />
Thanks!<br />
<br />
@SantasTavernAtomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-86396394454625442952013-02-24T22:15:00.004-08:002021-09-21T15:33:16.564-07:00A brief note from after the election last yearThis is ever so slightly "not family friendly", and was passed on to me (I think in December) as something not suitable for posting at nukingpolitics.com. Be that as it may, I'll post it, and I still chuckle when I consider the comparison:<br />
<br />
------------------------------------<br />
<br />
<b>Joe Biden</b> <b>(D)</b> - <i>Promises to Keep</i> (2008):<br />
"My own father had always said the measure of a man wasn't how many times or how hard he got knocked down, but how fast he got back up."<br /><br />
--------------<br />
<br />
<b>Matt Damon (D)</b>, as politician "David Norris" in <i>The Adjustment Bureau</i> (2011):<br />
<br />
"But we had a rule in my neighborhood, when you got in a fight, it wasn't whether or not you got knocked down. It's what you do when you get back up."<br />
<br />
[the crowd cheers]<br />
<br />
"And I came here to tell you tonight that I will get back up!"<br />
<br />
[the crowd cheers again but David goes quiet]<br />
<br />
"Um...that's bullshit! We...we didn't have that saying in my neighborhood. It's just one of those phrases that uh...that has some attraction with a focus group and so we kept using it. That's not true."<br />
<br />
--------------<br />
<br />
<b>Stav Blackmane (R)</b> - from a casual conversation, and in reaction to the above quotes (2012):<br />
<br />
"In my old neighborhood, if you got knocked down it was probably because you tried to jump your bicycle too far, or didn't hit the ramp right, or got distracted at the last moment, or were scared. We called it 'crashing'. And there would always be people around watching too, so it was terribly embarrassing.<br />
<br />
But inevitably, when you got back up and dragged your bike over to your little knot of friends, you'd say something like "<i><b>Oh my god, did you see the TITS on that girl in the Snoopy shirt???</b></i>", and you sincerely meant it too, because we were BOYS, not wanna-be politicians."<br />
<br />
<br />Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-32406079283489289932013-02-14T12:31:00.001-08:002013-02-15T09:31:56.235-08:00Plasma Geology: Potential Evidence - Part 01Shelgeyr wrote:<br />
"Allow me to skip the detailed explanation and please just post the picture. <br />
This is to illustrate<a href="http://www.thunderbolts.info/forum/phpBB3/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=4056&start=135#p78260" target="_blank"> <strong>a point I did a very poor job of explaining</strong></a> to Starbiter."<br />
<br />
Uhm... OK!<br />
<br />
<div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_QYT8HlgnxL_PmXVsTEazm22UAyjVT-eEMfDCi6VF0Kum8tfwFAjlR7ajtgjcc-A05jQDDElrTJtR1aK_0jmaoms_03kMX83KywxCQidvTQolOe9I-PKYELrppDiG2u3s92pZ0ucNGQA/s1600/Victoria_Path_Bisecting_Nile_Delta_01_Hexagon_03_with_Starbiters_EDM_02.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_QYT8HlgnxL_PmXVsTEazm22UAyjVT-eEMfDCi6VF0Kum8tfwFAjlR7ajtgjcc-A05jQDDElrTJtR1aK_0jmaoms_03kMX83KywxCQidvTQolOe9I-PKYELrppDiG2u3s92pZ0ucNGQA/s640/Victoria_Path_Bisecting_Nile_Delta_01_Hexagon_03_with_Starbiters_EDM_02.png" uea="true" width="640" /></a></div>
<div align="left">
I am assured that there is no implication that magic was involved, instead the point (as I understand it) is that the hexagrams/hexagonal relationships depicted are indicative of electrical discharge activity.</div>
<div align="left">
<br /></div>
Uhm... OK!<br />
<br />
--------------<br />
<br />
<strong>Update 02/15/2013:</strong><br />
<br />
Due to their likihood of causing massive confusion, we have removed parts 1 through 3, which makes this no longer much of a series. But since we wouldn't be astonished if there was more coming, we are renaming and renumbering this post.<br />
<br />
So what was yesterday "<strong><em>Hmmmmm... (Part 4)</em></strong>" is now entitled "<strong><em>Plasma Geology: Potential Evidence - Part 01</em></strong>".<br />
<br />
-- <strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">AMAS Management</span></strong><br />
Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-76553538545790789482013-01-11T09:16:00.001-08:002013-01-11T19:05:04.060-08:00My Posts at Nuking Politics<h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Well, at least most of them to date:<o:p></o:p></h3>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">#DIPLOMACY – SAUDI ARABIA </span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2013/01/diplomacy-saudi-arabia.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2013/01/diplomacy-saudi-arabia.html</span></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Since like many in the conservative blogosphere I’m considering running for President of these United States in 2016, I thought it might be advantageous to start making my positions on various important topics clear. So let’s start with Diplomacy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And where would our diplomatic efforts be without that ever-present sandy migraine known as Saudi Arabia?<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The Accomplishment Reevaluation Letdown Therapeutic Centre </span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2013/01/the-accomplishment-reevaluation-letdown.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2013/01/the-accomplishment-reevaluation-letdown.html</span></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Have you ever done something that made you really feel good about yourself, only to later take a close look and realize it wasn’t really such a great accomplishment after all? Maybe even to the degree where you kinda felt like an idiot?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We at the Accomplishment Reevaluation Letdown Therapeutic Centre can help!<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">My Proposed Constitutional Amendments</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2013/01/proposed-constitutional-amendments_4.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2013/01/proposed-constitutional-amendments_4.html</span></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Here are a few new Constitutional Amendments I would like to see:<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<li><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Taxation Legislation Expiration Requirement Amendment <o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Federal Commerce Regulatory Authority Amendment <o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Tax Injunction Amendment <o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Definitely Not Lollipop Chainsaw</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2013/01/definitely-not-lollipop-chainsaw.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2013/01/definitely-not-lollipop-chainsaw.html</span></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Not even a blind psychotic would mistake me for Juliet Starling. In fact, I'm only aware of the character because I know who Jessica Nigri is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Said psychotic would have to be both blind and deaf in order to confuse us - or, perhaps, a federal bureaucrat.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Snow Meister</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2012/12/freeze-meister.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2012/12/freeze-meister.html</span></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hold on tight - I can already tell this one's going to ramble...
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Into the Light</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2012/12/into-light.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2012/12/into-light.html</span></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">…whenever I think of Obamacare, it reminds me of those Tubifex worms found in that North Carolina Sewer…[snip] I see something like that and my first thought is to wish for a laser while reaching for a flamethrower, and I found I feel much the same way about those hideous worm clusters. …[snip] So I asked myself: How can we shine the light of the Bill of Rights onto Congress? …[snip] I’m also willing to predict that Liberals will have much the same reaction to sunlight filtered through the Bill of Rights as vampires do to unfiltered sunlight so, you know, “win-win”.
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The God of One Dimension</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2012/11/the-god-of-one-dimension.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2012/11/the-god-of-one-dimension.html</span></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">… The Left, personified and taken as a whole, reminds me of the Monarch of Pointland, except that even that deluded creature, being alone, had no one to be a vampiric parasite upon, which the actual Left requires – even if eventually only in a cannibalistic sense.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">T’was the night before Ransom</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2012/11/twas-night-before-ransom.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2012/11/twas-night-before-ransom.html</span></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">T'was the night before ransom, and all through his mind,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A panic was tromping, no rest would he find.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Though the vans of ward heelers were all prepped to drive,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The Kleptarch, in darkness, fought to survive.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The Post-Cognitive Convulsive Reflex Test – Part 1</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2012/09/the-post-cognitive-convulsive-reflex.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2012/09/the-post-cognitive-convulsive-reflex.html</span></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When Lieutenant Robert Maynard (and crew) killed Blackbeard, Edward Teach, in ferocious hand-to-hand combat, he cut off the famous pirate’s head and hung it from the prow of his ship as proof of his claim on the reward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maynard’s crew dumped Blackbeard’s body overboard. No, this is not a Disney movie review – this is one of many ways that good and dangerous men, fighting on the side of the law, properly celebrate victory. Or at least they used to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can you think of such a thing being allowed today? <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The Post-Cognitive Convulsive Reflex Test – Part 2</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2012/09/the-post-cognitive-convulsive-reflex_17.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2012/09/the-post-cognitive-convulsive-reflex_17.html</span></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As I mentioned in Part 1 of this series, we have a problem here in the United States with our citizens having difficulty understanding not so much “why” people around the world hate us, but even that they <b>actually do</b>. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Life in Orbit</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2012/09/life-in-orbit.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2012/09/life-in-orbit.html</span></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We touched down deep in the Eastern Tamanrasset, struggling to stay under the radar at Tiska.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No easy task that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We smoked scorpion tails and drank frogs with the locals, and when we could touch down once again, and remember the mission, we gave away our gifts and struck out north towards the Illizi, guided by specks of surviving life marking a deep aquifer fed by the distant Djanet, far across the electrified sand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And by GPS, of course. We weren't total savages.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-58516927829674428082012-09-16T11:15:00.002-07:002012-09-16T11:15:59.737-07:00Keln has asked me to co-blog at <strong><a href="http://www.nukingpolitics.com/" target="_blank">Nuking Politics</a></strong>. I'm honored and flattered, so of course I said "Heck YEAH!". Actually it took me awhile to respond, but that's because life is busy, and is not to be interpreted as a lack of enthusiasm on my part.<br />
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I have now posted an introduction which I titled "<a href="http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2012/09/an-atomic-monkey-swings-into-room.html" target="_blank">An Atomic Monkey Swings Into The Room</a>", and also <a href="http://www.nukingpolitics.com/2012/09/the-post-cognitive-convulsive-reflex.html" target="_blank">Part 1</a> of my Post-Cognitive Convulsive Reflex Test.<br />
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This doesn't mean that AMAS is going away - oh no - but since I'm so delinquent in posting on my own blog I doubt anyone will notice if posting at <a href="http://www.nukingpolitics.com/" target="_blank"><strong>Nuking Politics</strong></a> makes me even moreso. Besides, it is more likely to inspire me to be more <strike>responsible</strike> active here.<br />
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Enjoy!Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-13089643890373331752012-07-24T16:48:00.001-07:002012-09-18T21:49:59.940-07:00I had a lot of help.<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><b>“Help is on the way! Hang on, stay with me! </b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><b>You’ve been through the hardest part already… Just lie still! </b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Help is on the way!</b>”</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I looked up to see the pickup truck climbing towards the sky, nose to the ground, buoyed upon a billowing dust cloud, spinning madly. She flew out ejected at the top of its arc and impacted the steep winding country road directly in my path. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Standing on the brakes, I skidding off the pavement, while her truck cartwheeled past - blasting through the woods before slamming to a halt in a graveyard upside-down.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It seemed to happen in silence, which can’t be true. I probably had Led Zeppelin cranked to the max and just can’t remember it. This was well into my “Robert Plant wannabe” phase during college, and though I was never a druggie or a hippie, I certainly looked the part.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I bailed, tossed keys on my roof and ran to render aid. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">She’d rag-dolled to a stop on her back, perpendicular to the road. Alive but unconscious. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In a glance I realized she had multiple compound fractures in all her limbs, and her skull was exposed in a gash on her forehead. I assumed she likely had neck or spinal damage as well. She was also bleeding into her lungs, which alarmed me no end, and blowing out crimson with every labored breath.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">As I moved around to her right side, the memory of my favorite teacher in junior high and high school – my wrestling coach who also taught science and economics on the side – sprang to mind. And thank God for that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I knelt down, gently braced her neck with my left hand, reached across with my right arm to pin her to the road, planted my forehead in an expanding pool of blood, and started speaking into her ear.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><b>“Hang on, stay with me. If you can hear me, I want you to just hold still. I’m here, I’m with you. You’ve been through the hardest part already, just lie still because help is on the way!”</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Coach was by far my favorite out of the many, many fine, intelligent, patient, and enduring souls I burdened throughout my scholastic career. A big, beefy, white Midwesterner, he had a near-permanently jovial expression welded to his features which only rarely and fleetingly gave way to (and I’m sorry to characterize it this way, but it’s true) a comical scowl. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He had (well “still has” actually) a sharp and expansive mind, a razor wit, a truly intrinsic good nature, and could quote with equal ease wisdom from the Bible or Joseph Heller’s “Catch-22”.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He impacted my life in many ways – more than I can easily relate, and probably more than I even know, but three I can recall with ease:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He didn’t freak out and call the police when as my 7th grade science project I brought to school a home-made rim-fire 22 pistol I'd cobbled together out of random non-firearm parts lying around the house. Granted, he was certainly influenced by the times we lived in, which didn’t default to SWAT teams for such infractions as is now the norm, but he being such a natural stoic, I actually don’t think I rattled his cage at all. He almost gave me an “A”, but marked it down to “B” because my documentation was not as good as it should have been, surprising nobody.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He taught me wrestling for many years, making it reflexive to use my head as an extra appendage, as all wrestlers do. This has turned out to be far more of an important life skill than knowing algebra.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">She wore gym shorts and a T-shirt, no pockets, no ID. She was blonde, probably in her twenties and was probably normally quite pretty. But nobody is pretty in that shape. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I had her pinned to the asphalt and was poised to restrain her should she regain consciousness, because I knew she would NOT BE PLEASED when she did. I feared when she awoke delirious and in agony she would thrash about and injure herself further, so I held on tight in dreaded anticipation and kept up the litany of reassurances.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><b>“You’ve had a wreck, and you’re alive, and you’re going to be OK. You’re going to be ok, but you’re injured, and when you wake up I need you to HOLD STILL. I’ve got you. Help is on the way. Can you hear me?”</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I had recently been reading “</span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Shocktrauma-Jon-Franklin/dp/0449243877/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Shocktrauma</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">” by Jon Franklin, about the building of the </span><a href="http://www.umm.edu/shocktrauma/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">R Adams Cowley Shock Trauma Center</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> in Baltimore, Maryland, the first “shock trauma” hospital in America, so the mnemonic for first-responder care – </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ABC_%28medicine%29" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">ABC for “Airway, Breathing, Circulation”</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> – was fresh in my mind. It was immediately apparent that I had to address these in reverse order… although broken bone was visible in various places all over her body, there were no arterial gushers so there wasn’t much I needed to do about circulation. She was already breathing – ragged bloody breathing but breathing nonetheless, so that left making sure her airway stayed open. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Very quickly on I made two simple and possibly life-threatening mistakes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My girlfriend, who had been driving behind me but who had been delayed by a red light, pulled up and understandably assumed I’d hit a jogger. Looking up momentarily, I made Mistake #1 – I yelled for her to go back to the fire station we had previously passed a couple of miles back, forgetting that there was another much closer fire station at the top of this very hill. As she pulled a tight U-turn and sped off, I realized that I’d just made Mistake #2 – I’d skipped a step – I had not checked the pickup to see if there was anyone else trapped inside. Now that I was holding the woman’s neck steady, I dared not let go, and I could not twist far enough around to even see the truck behind me. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Not that there was much to see… it had impacted on all six sides and smashed down in heavy bracken. And the sun was setting.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The old lady driving the next car to come along naturally rolled down her window and asked if we needed help. Thank God, I thought, and asked her to race to the fire station up the hill and send an ambulance. I didn’t ask her to check the truck, figuring when help arrived, they could. Head down, I resumed my monolog, and feared what would happen when she awoke. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">That didn’t take long. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><b>“Help is on the way. I need you to hold still. I hate to ask this of you but I need to know if you can wake up. Hello? You’re going to be OK. Hey! Was there anyone in the truck with you? I need you to wake up but hold still!”</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">She didn’t listen. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">SCREAM!!!!</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">She wanted to get up, and roll over, and fight, and knock the leaves off the trees through the power of her voice alone, but as gently as possible I held her in place and kept trying to calm her while the sun disappeared and the twilight deepened.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><b>“Help is on the way! I know it hurts, but you’ve been through the hardest part already, it gets better from here, just lie still because help is on the way! Hang on, stay with me. You need to HOLD STILL or you’re going to hurt worse! An ambulance is on its way!” </b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It felt better to say that, now that I actually knew it was true. Help was on the way. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">What the HELL was taking them so long???</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I passed the time silently mocking, belittling, and reprimanding myself. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Every part of my body was starting to ache – knees and head against pavement, I was lying on my left arm</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">, with my left hand under her neck. My right shoulder had started throbbing from the effort of keeping her still. To stay on track I kept mentally comparing our situations. “You think your knees hurt?” I said to myself, “Not as bad as hers do…” remembering her bone showing through, “Stop complaining!” I told myself, “This isn’t about ME!” Whatever was necessary to discourage my natural tendency to fidget like crazy. I imagined that had this happened in high school, my wrestling teammates would have teased me unmercifully – “So, you’re saying you kept this girl pinned to the road, but you claim it was for HER sake and you weren’t enjoying yourself?” “Yes.” “And she was just wearing gym shorts and a T-shirt?” “I was trying to keep her alive!” I replied, “She’d been chewed up by the wreck! Believe me, there was no cheap thrill involved, and I can’t believe you’d even suggest such a thing! That’s gross!” My old team laughed in my head, “Hey man, this is YOUR imaginary conversation…” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><i>“Stay with me… I’m holding you down so you don’t hurt yourself. Please keep still… Please, I need you to hold still. Help is on the way.”</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I kept reminding myself that “time flies when you’re having fun”, which must be why it seemed to take foreve- What the HELL is taking them so long??? The sun had not yet set when she’d wrecked, and by this time it was long down and the light was so dim it was getting difficult to see.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A police car screeched up behind me. I’m glad he saw us or things would have suddenly been far worse. He hadn’t used his siren, and with my face buried in her hair I hadn’t seen his reflected lights. But when his door opened, I could hear his police radio and knew help had finally arrived.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">As the cop ran towards us I yelled for him to check the truck for others. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“What truck? Where?” He couldn’t see the truck from the road. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Looking up, I yelled “Over in the graveyard!” I pointed with my foot. “That way!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He saw my face. “Are you OK!?” he demanded.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I wasn’t in the wreck, this is all her blood!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A big, beefy, black Midwesterner, he had a near-permanently jovial expression welded to his features which only rarely and fleetingly gave way to a (and I’m sorry to characterize it this way, but it’s true) truly terrifying scowl. He also had one of those huge wonderful cop flashlights, the “why do I even bother carrying a nightstick?” type, and quickly determined that there had been nobody else in the truck. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>Thank God.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He asked me who she was, and of course I didn’t know. She had no ID on her, and the cop couldn’t find any in the truck, although it being upside down initially made it difficult to be certain. He was going to run her license plates until he discovered the front one was a rainbow-airbrushed meaningless vanity sign, and the rear legal plate had been torn from the wreck along with part of the bumper. Although it was “certainly out there somewhere”, he couldn’t find it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He knelt in the road next to us, and we spent the next eternity alternately trying to encourage her to wake up and stay with us, or to calm down and quit fighting, as she swayed back and forth between oblivion and overwhelming pain. At some point the cop covered her with his jacket. We couldn’t get her to tell us her name. She tried, but her voice was so slurred we couldn’t understand what she said.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“At least she’s trying to tell us – that’s a very good sign,” the cop said. “A very good sign.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Occasionally he would bark into the microphone at his shoulder to get an update on where the hell the ambulance was, getting angrier each time. He finally stood and walked away lest his shouting into the radio further alarm the woman. He also turned on his high beams. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Strangely, horribly, the policeman and I had enough time for a friendly conversation. In fact, way too much time, we both agreed. He generally spent a good portion of every day, when not out answering calls, at the fire station playing cards with the firemen. He knew of the local band I occasionally played with, but had never seen me on stage. He was a Democrat. He was surprised I was a conservative, was mildly amazed I could put together a complete sentence, and was somewhat astonished I didn’t smell of pot. At some point I laughed and admitted that given how I looked, I could hardly blame him for assuming otherwise. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I have an egg-shaped head, so I’d look even dumber with short hair.” I assumed from the expression on his face he doubted this. “Kinda like a cartoon character that you know is an idiot just from the way it’s drawn,” I said.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Is there a story behind that T-shirt?” he asked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Since our wrestling match didn’t seem to be in danger of ending anytime soon, I launched into the tale.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“It all started with me being very, very stupid…”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Several years earlier, a dear friend and I were indeed behaving very, very stupidly. We were racing down a Colorado ski slope that we’d never been on before, and we were both just good enough skiers to be dangerous. It was snowing lightly and the slope looked like a beautiful, long, smooth, mogul-less run, perfect for bombing straight downhill at warp speed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This was an optical illusion. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In fact, about three quarters of the way down there was a blind headwall where another run crossed ours. </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It was effectively a very unofficial, completely unplanned, and highly dangerous ski jump. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">You can probably guess what happened next. It is a fun story, and I love to tell it, but I’m going to skip right over it only to say that A) the jump established both my personal relative-altitude and distance records for unassisted vehicle-less airborne flight, which I never care to top, and B) I listened very carefully to the ski patrol as they loaded me onto that embarrassingly obvious red stretcher-toboggan thing to take me off the mountain, and to the paramedics in the ambulance, hoping to learn a thing or two. When I got out of the hospital my buddy and I bought ourselves commemorative T-shirts, emblazoned with a winged skier. I still have mine, though it is now way too fragile with age to try to remove the blood stains.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“In fact,” I told the cop, “I flew a LOT further than she did, but I also had a much softer landing.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Easier takeoff too, sounds like.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yeah, that’s true,” I replied.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">About a year and a half earlier, while I was at my parents’ home in Texas for a long fall weekend, my best friend showed up unannounced one night with two girls on his arm. All three of them were blood-splattered and shaking. They wanted to know if they could use our bathrooms to clean up. It is always amazing how polite people can be when they think they’re imposing and are completely in shock. We had bathrooms a’plenty, so while the girls were in another part of the house scrubbing down, I asked the obvious question.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“A guy got mowed down right in front of us as we were leaving the Fair,” he said. That would be the State Fair of Texas. “Old man drove straight through the crowd. The guy ahead of us… thrown maybe thirty, forty feet.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Is he dead?” I asked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“He <b><i>was</i></b>…” he paused while indicating the girls in the other room, “but they brought him back while I kept the crowd from killing the driver." </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My best friend is a very, very big man. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"The guy was out and not breathing, choked on blood I think," he continued. "They couldn't get a pulse either, or hear his heartbeat... Someone said 'traumatic arrest'..."</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"That tends to be notoriously permanent..." I interrupted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"...B</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">ut they cleared a lot of clotting blood from his throat, and somehow got him going again.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The girls' own recollections were a bit more fragmented, but while huddled around drinks they told basically the same story, just with additional detail and considerably more emotion.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eventually my girlfriend returned to the scene, beating the ambulance by a good measure. The cop and I brought her up to speed because, as I’ve mentioned, we had plenty of time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It was full-on deep dark night when the ambulance finally arrived. I felt compelled to remain civil. The cop, however, did not. We quickly found out their delay truly wasn’t their fault – a train had blocked their path. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">They didn’t have to say anything further. This was coal country, and the tracks ran straight through the center of town. Insanely long coal trains heading towards Chicago brought cross-town traffic to a standstill on a many-times-per-day basis, and exactly this kind of situation with the ambulances (and fire crews, and police) was a regular fear. Most of the EMTs went to work on the girl, while I reassured the others that I was fine – that all the blood on me was hers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After watching the ambulance pull away, the policeman and I profusely over-thanked each other, both of us laughing slightly and ruefully from souring adrenaline. He strongly suggested that I get a haircut, but was nice enough to make it clear this wasn’t exactly a “cop telling the hippie to cut his hair” situation. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Generally speaking, I’m fine in a crisis. If I’m going to fall apart, it won’t happen until after the crisis is resolved. This was one of those times. Once home, I started shaking and second-guessing everything I had done. I didn’t know squat about first aid, and knew that reading “Shocktrauma” hardly constituted EMT training. Had I done the right things? Did I miss anything crucial? I knew I wasn’t a competent first-responder, so had I screwed up? Was she going to live?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We decided to go to the hospital, because I couldn’t sit still until I knew if the woman was going to be OK. We arrived at the ER and in my typical arrogant fashion I strode through the big double sliding glass doors like I owned the place. That didn’t last long though, because in an instant all talking ceased and everyone including the staff behind the counter stopped what they were doing to stare at me in horror. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I wasn’t expecting that reaction. This was not how I preferred to command a room. For a moment time stood still. “Oh!” I said, realizing what the problem was, “This is not my blood! I’m fine!” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Time started up again, and one of the nurses demanded “Whose blood is it???” and right on cue a scream from deep within the ER pierced the air. “Hers,” I said. She had a powerful scream. I’d even go so far as to say it was a “healthy” scream except that I knew otherwise. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">They grabbed her attending physician and had me go over in detail the particulars of the accident. I relayed what I’d seen and what I’d done, although at that point I still didn’t know what had caused the wreck, or who she was. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">When we were done, I went to wash up in the rest room attached to the waiting area because my arms were starting to itch badly from the drying blood. As I walked through, I had to pass between four generations of a family and the hospital television they were watching. Please keep in mind that at this point I was so wound up that I probably barely qualified as sane, but I was still polite and friendly. After saying “excuse me” for having to cross their view, I stopped and said “How are y’all doing this evening?” in a bright, cheerful voice.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">From great-grandma down to the little children, excepting only the baby, they looked appalled. Someone managed to weakly say “We’re doing fine. You?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Oh, I’m fine,” I said, and indicating my arms I continued “Don’t worry, this isn’t my blood,” as if that made everything all right. “What’re y’all up to this evening? Everything OK?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Just waiting on Grampa’s dialysis treatment. He should be down soon.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">“Oh that’s good,” I said, “I hope he’s doing well, and it sure is nice to see so many generations here to support him.” I continued in this fashion for awhile. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At some point I finally noticed the little voice in the back of my head, yelling “Hey Moron! You’re out of control! Leave these poor people alone! You’re frightening them! Listen to yourself! Go wash up!” So while I know it is hard to believe, I actually did cut what I was saying short, and excused myself to the rest room.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I stepped inside, flipped on the light, and caught my reflection in the mirror.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Yeah, I was probably going to need a haircut. That was the least of my concerns. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Forget my arms, I was covered – COATED – in blood. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I’d knelt in it, put my face in it, and with every exhale she’d blown drops of it onto me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I was a slaughterhouse janitor. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I was a slasher flick extra. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I was a pathologically polite zombie. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It was a long while before I could stop laughing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yes, the law is an ass,” my father said, “but most of it exists for a reason.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Break the form,” he said. “It wasn’t made with your particulars in mind, so you can’t expect it to fit your situation.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Sometimes, like a good defense attorney, you have to test the system.” He meant by opposing it. “So even if you lose when you’re in the right, you’ll know you did the correct thing. Test the system.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Thanks, Dad. I miss you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I went back to the hospital the next morning to see if she had made it through the night, find out who she was, etc. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I didn’t want thanks, I wasn’t looking for praise, I hadn’t done anything heroic – I’d just been there at the right time, and did what I could. And none of what I did was through my own wisdom, not at all – what little I knew, I’d been taught. I'd had lots of help.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Sometime in the night there had been a shift change, and the hospital staff on duty didn’t know me, didn’t know any particulars about the case from the night before, and refused to look up any details because I wasn’t family and it was a privacy issue. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Fine, don’t tell me her name! Can you tell me if she’s alive? I just want to know if I did the right things!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">There was a different policeman on duty behind the ER admissions desk who spoke up. “Don’t worry, son,” he said. “There are ‘Good Samaritan’ laws in this state – you won’t get sued.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My girlfriend saw the look on my face change, grabbed my arm, and forcibly pulled me out of there before I did something very, very stupid indeed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I graduated soon thereafter, and moved back to Texas. Less than a month later I witnessed a disturbingly similar wreck on the Dallas North Tollway – similar in the sense of “cartwheeling car tumbling down the highway” – but in that second case I was not the first person to reach the vehicle, and – Thank God – the driver was not badly hurt. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But for years afterwards whenever I passed that spot on the Tollway, the memory of the earlier accident would come to mind. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And that’s where the story stopped for the longest time. Life went on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">----</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ten years later, for reasons I still don’t fully understand, I suddenly, urgently, had to know if the woman had lived. I knew the trail had long grown cold, and that my chances were slim of learning anything, but after hardly thinking of the wreck in years I couldn’t get it off my mind.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I located and called the fire station at the top of that hill, and asked if they remembered the policeman who had played cards there every day a decade ago. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">They knew him! He had since retired and was running a barbecue joint in a nearby town. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I called him. He remembered the night! He even still sounded a little bit angry about the train! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">He said the accident investigators determined, as best they could, that she'd been going downhill at high speed when she likely swerved to miss a deer (someone had come forward to say that they’d nearly hit a deer standing in that road right before the accident), and gotten her right wheels caught in the ditch. That ditch came to a sudden concrete halt at the culvert under the cemetery’s driveway, the impact with which threw her truck into the air with impressive torque. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But she lived! He was certain of it! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I don’t always remember the ones who live,” he said. “I always remember the ones who don’t – but I do recall this accident because it was so strange and it took the ambulance so damn long to get there.”</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>She lived!!!</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I thanked him again for his help.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I’m very sorry,” he said, “but I can’t remember her name. I’d honestly tell you if I did.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"That‘s quite OK,” I told him. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I didn’t really need to know.</span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
----------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Update 09-18-2012:</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Found an old picture of that T-shirt, taken a few years before the story above takes place. <br />Also, that's my pet flying squirrel looking out from my neck line.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikbL-BLLu2HWGmRQNDMWRDgx-aQ-vd6LteGzm8dzv5PeZJfMFJILYY4l1al6zPBjBugYuAPR4s8FguXhgsCZhtVO_T90BomcakpMKBKLznhPzRCoSibmhn4YfJIxOMnqwPWLvzVjV115w/s1600/Flying_Skier_Shirt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hea="true" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikbL-BLLu2HWGmRQNDMWRDgx-aQ-vd6LteGzm8dzv5PeZJfMFJILYY4l1al6zPBjBugYuAPR4s8FguXhgsCZhtVO_T90BomcakpMKBKLznhPzRCoSibmhn4YfJIxOMnqwPWLvzVjV115w/s320/Flying_Skier_Shirt.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-86259255131982677982012-06-19T09:01:00.001-07:002012-06-19T09:05:31.632-07:00I've kicked off a new Aquaponics project with several other people (who will be named later if they want to be, but I'm not just going to plaster their names all over the web without asking first), that looks like it is going to be lots of fun, and considerably larger than the other systems I've got going. And this one is "for the children!", seriously.<br />
<br />
Not far from the Atomic Monkey Action Squad HQ, in fact within walking distance, is the <a href="http://www.friscoisd.org/ly/schools/cte/" target="_blank">Frisco CTE Center</a>, which is part of the Frisco ISD. The whole campus is almost brand new, and I've been envious of their greenhouse since it was constructed. Long story short, we're going to add "Aquaponics" to their course curriculum, and the AMAS - after a fashion - gets to help.<br />
<br />
<strong>Here's how we're getting started:</strong><br />
<br />
I had a spare <strong>12,000 gallon tank</strong> lying around (don't ask!), so rather than give our HOA further cause to want to bomb the HQ, we decided it would be better donated to the school than to try to violate all sorts of local regulations by having it installed in our back yard. Thusly, last week we had it delivered to the center, courtesy of one of their teachers (who did all the hard work and driving).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzUBMmBk09TVoJ5cL9X41aWBd-mDoMu2kgncgffAJrJAls0udAXxQvkP6tA9iG-afcrjszEyTncWtUN8IjyUdL5IoMgV_Z7mZLWJ_CTCCKYGfIjKSlinDOEPbRc0vcDEKOEM05qtiaodQ/s1600/12KG_tank_at_Frisco_CTE_01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" rca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzUBMmBk09TVoJ5cL9X41aWBd-mDoMu2kgncgffAJrJAls0udAXxQvkP6tA9iG-afcrjszEyTncWtUN8IjyUdL5IoMgV_Z7mZLWJ_CTCCKYGfIjKSlinDOEPbRc0vcDEKOEM05qtiaodQ/s400/12KG_tank_at_Frisco_CTE_01.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
We're planning on cutting this tank in half, to create <strong>two 6000 gallon open-top tanks</strong>, which will go under that metal shed in the center of the next picture. The tanks will then be piped into the greenhouse you see to the right.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqi6w7Xl7fw3uTv2qYRUHyrBg67BSpdJQ08YNbni55DdJtKLV4RurwbBeIFC_1MCRN7oexkXYp8SBAk59q9KRfJb77h3qM2nJFxMTv1jFo4aCJieIXM38FZZ3jqohHD1ZamUNrwLDqc9E/s1600/12KG_tank_at_Frisco_CTE_02.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" rca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqi6w7Xl7fw3uTv2qYRUHyrBg67BSpdJQ08YNbni55DdJtKLV4RurwbBeIFC_1MCRN7oexkXYp8SBAk59q9KRfJb77h3qM2nJFxMTv1jFo4aCJieIXM38FZZ3jqohHD1ZamUNrwLDqc9E/s400/12KG_tank_at_Frisco_CTE_02.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
As you can see below, the greenhouse already has gutters installed, but at the moment the rain isn't being captured. We're going to change that by adding a 500 or 1000 gallon tank, most likely at this end of the greenhouse, and redirecting the downflow into it.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBJ4hJVScv57jkEnt1VhgC62Aovz61ZZm0P78KVjL3F2ztxByAtsQ5mVX5t0iBOd5t2QwKS6uwqtgGJrL2HlzUt0yar4Rer5UjlehzUEmvj0f6NZ5ppz-mq8DgF2-t1oEz2X2ak1KpXus/s1600/CTE_rainwater_catching_01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" rca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBJ4hJVScv57jkEnt1VhgC62Aovz61ZZm0P78KVjL3F2ztxByAtsQ5mVX5t0iBOd5t2QwKS6uwqtgGJrL2HlzUt0yar4Rer5UjlehzUEmvj0f6NZ5ppz-mq8DgF2-t1oEz2X2ak1KpXus/s400/CTE_rainwater_catching_01.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Once we get the big tank cut in two, the resulting tanks will still be about seven and a half feet tall, so they'd still be difficult to service. We're going to place a portable staircase between them, courtesy of a local commercial pool construction company (again, to be named later if they care to be), so that they can be serviced from either side. Note: in this picture the stairs are lying on their back in the parking lot:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGA3NR9vcgaHjOoPxy0T8DAmFNJLv7IH3oCG63ZmobVjhhR67LDLLDIcLMAhUXxV4ThICplGAk8AtSwxOHJ_egAsWq_uTG3yRm6fMztBe4RBpxMvKeLiS38gxixx8TWlD2MICGsNnn4ZI/s1600/Stairs_for_Tanks_at_Frisco_CTE.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" rca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGA3NR9vcgaHjOoPxy0T8DAmFNJLv7IH3oCG63ZmobVjhhR67LDLLDIcLMAhUXxV4ThICplGAk8AtSwxOHJ_egAsWq_uTG3yRm6fMztBe4RBpxMvKeLiS38gxixx8TWlD2MICGsNnn4ZI/s400/Stairs_for_Tanks_at_Frisco_CTE.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The kids are going to be constructing their own personal systems as part of their project work, using either 55-gallon plastic barrels, 275-gallon IBC totes, or both, but I'll go into more detail about that at a later time.Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-32154488770938611742012-05-17T13:17:00.000-07:002012-05-17T13:17:44.764-07:00Photoshop Rules!Torn paper? Water damage? Bah!<br />
Photoshop to the rescue!
<b> </b><br />
<br />
<b>Before:</b>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh804KYKzWsT4X2_W8kdc3aZc7KxHkuWiqE-tLE6lwTZL4feFvdNGeWzfJCtKUx4dVRO1_eeu85YJX0Kj5L3tb_SLJ5KVSRUn4Zhugho28kNb7GEoCuiWURb5BgXnyr5eRkV7SCl_jTn6U/s1600/Before_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh804KYKzWsT4X2_W8kdc3aZc7KxHkuWiqE-tLE6lwTZL4feFvdNGeWzfJCtKUx4dVRO1_eeu85YJX0Kj5L3tb_SLJ5KVSRUn4Zhugho28kNb7GEoCuiWURb5BgXnyr5eRkV7SCl_jTn6U/s320/Before_.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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...and following a few hours of eye strain...
<b> </b><br />
<br />
<b>After:</b>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiofuv4LbBmshDkdnvM7QMRpiuhzjnWm33VwjrPJ8MJoJWMPMlAOGnX-xLyReOKGiYUEBdWDSvn3sSst9YFhgViJ6_EbAzU1HBh76CsIorRt4lCHG7TmhwmMZFpHzBAexlJyWhR3TOVLzk/s1600/After_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiofuv4LbBmshDkdnvM7QMRpiuhzjnWm33VwjrPJ8MJoJWMPMlAOGnX-xLyReOKGiYUEBdWDSvn3sSst9YFhgViJ6_EbAzU1HBh76CsIorRt4lCHG7TmhwmMZFpHzBAexlJyWhR3TOVLzk/s320/After_.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-14380084240707076622012-05-16T14:07:00.000-07:002012-05-16T14:25:11.245-07:00I Drop My Name Into the Presidential Biographies<style>
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<pcxspfirst>
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Have you seen this? <br />
"<a href="http://www.commentarymagazine.com/2012/05/15/obama-drops-his-name-into-presidential-biographies/" target="_new">Obama Drops His Name Into the Other Presidential Biographies</a>"<br /><br />
I consider this a personal challenge. <br /><br />The question before us is this: Can I
"<b><i>out-stupid</i></b>" our chief executive without resorting to fiction or
creating composite characters? This is
going to be tough... He's set the bar awfully low – I'm no expert Limbo dancer
after all – but given the number of stupid things I've done (and I'm including
attitudes I've held, or misinformation I've allowed myself to believe), I think
I might be up to the task. But remember; I'm only
going to use true facts (or as honest as possible "best recollections") to tell my side of the story, so please try not to
judge too harshly.
<br /><br />
<pcxspmiddle>
The main bullet points are from the official
Presidential biographies available via <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/">www.whitehouse.gov</a>. My additions should be obvious.
</pcxspmiddle><br />
<ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle>
<span lang="EN">On Feb. 22, 1924 Calvin Coolidge became
the first president to make a public radio address to the American people.
President Coolidge later helped create the Federal Radio Commission, which
has now evolved to become the Federal Communications Commission (FCC). President Obama became the first president
to hold virtual gatherings and town halls using <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2011/04/18/president-obama-invites-you-his-facebook-town-hall">Twitter</a>, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/WhiteHouse">Facebook</a>, <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2011/09/26/president-obamas-town-hall-linkedin-we-are-thing-together">Google+</a>, <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/the-press-office/2011/09/20/president-obama-participate-linkedin-town-hall-mountain-view-california-">LinkedIn</a>,
etc. </span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
<ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle style="color: #943634;">
<span lang="EN">I posted my very first Tweet on
Twitter last night, May 15, 2012, despite having had an account there for months. It also took me a couple of posts to get the hang of how hash tags are used, and lots of rewording to fit the character limit. All this after gently mocking my father's utter lack of technical ability in the eulogy I gave at his funeral a year ago. <b>@<span class="SpellE">DepartmentOfNo</span></b></span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
</ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle>
<span lang="EN">President Herbert Hoover signed the bill
founding the Department of Veterans Affairs July 21, 1930. President Obama
is committed to making sure that the VA, the second-largest cabinet department, <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/issues/veterans">serves the needs of all
veterans</a></span> <span lang="EN">and provides
a seamless transition from active duty to civilian life, and has directed his
Administration to modernize the way health care is delivered and benefits are
administered for our nation's veterans. <a href="http://edit.whitehouse.gov/administration/first-lady-michelle-obama"> First Lady Michelle Obama </a>and <a href="http://whitehouse.gov/administration/jill-biden">Dr. Jill Biden</a></span> <span lang="EN">launched <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/joiningforces">Joining
Forces</a></span> <span lang="EN">to mobilize all sectors of society to give
our service members and their families the opportunities and support they have
earned. </span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
<ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle style="color: #943634;">
<span lang="EN">I had an aunt who passed away not
long ago (a couple of years at the most), who was a World War I veteran.
I'm pretty sure she was 103 when she died – although she might have been
107 – and I'm sad to say I never got around to visiting her in the last
decade or so of her life. I'm proud of her. I wish I'd taken the time to
know her better, and to learn from her. Stupid of me not to. (Sigh...) Hindsight!!!</span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
</ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle>
<span lang="EN">On August 14, 1935, President Roosevelt
signed the Social Security Act. Today the Obama Administration continues to <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/issues/seniors-and-social-security">protect
seniors and ensure Social Security</a></span> <span lang="EN">will be there for <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2011/03/07/social-security-101-it-s-there-you">future
generations</a>. </span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
<ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle style="color: #943634;">
<span lang="EN">About four or five years ago (I've
honestly scabbed over the memory of how long it has been), we moved my
mother-in-law down from New Jersey to live with us in Texas.
I'll leave it to the readers, if I have any, to decide if that was stupid
or not. (I'm hearing <span class="SpellE">Grampa</span> Simpson say "<b><i>A
little from Column A, a little from Column B...</i></b>") Regardless, she's
great to have around, fun to argue with, wonderful with our daughters, and
I'd say more except she'd see through my obvious attempt to suck up to
her on this, her 80th birthday. <b>Happy Birthday, Grandma!</b></span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
</ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle>
<span lang="EN">In a 1946 letter to the National Urban
League, President Truman wrote that the government has "an obligation
to see that the civil rights of every citizen are fully and equally protected.”
He ended racial segregation in civil service and the armed forces in 1948.
Today the Obama Administration continues to strive toward upholding the civil
rights of its citizens, <a href="http://www.blogger.com/zhang_j3/Desktop/%E2%80%A2%09http:/www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2010/12/22/repealing-dadt-history-making">repealing Don’t Ask Don’t Tell</a>, allowing people
of all sexual orientations to serve openly in our armed forces. Source: <a href="http://www.trumanlibrary.org/whistlestop/study_collections/desegregation/large/index.php?action=chronology">Harry
S. Truman Library and Museum</a></span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
<ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle style="color: #943634;">
<span lang="EN">OK this one is going to be
difficult... not only because I've never been racist – I'm not stupid
THAT way – but also because I think it idiotic to equate the civil rights
struggles that ended racial segregation with the various struggles the gay
community has today. I need to
tread somewhat lightly here, lest I end up adding this very post to my personal
"stupid list", but it seems to me that no matter where you
stand on gay issues, discrimination that is based on behavior is a
different matter entirely than discrimination based on genetic makeup
(and I'll include gender in this). You may be opposed to both types of
discrimination, or like a huge section of the population you may be
opposed to one and ok (or somewhat ok) with the other, or you may be a miserable
throw-back creep who is "pro-chains-and-closets"
all the way around. I'm not going to turn this bullet point into its own long
(longer) diatribe on the subject. Suffice to say that in my youth I was
very, very anti-gay. However, God apparently saw fit to humanize me, so
now I have friends, coworkers, and relatives who are gay, whom I just
love and adore. That doesn't make me
"pro-a-behavior-that-I-think-is-wrong/not-healthy/not-the-best",
but it does make it fairly inconsequential. If someone were to get in my
face about it – which never happens – my canned but heartfelt reply would
be "Hey! You're gay, I'm fat, I'm not really wild about either
situation, and I can't be 'not-fat' without drastic lifestyle changes, or
for that matter in the near future at all. A sudden change is off the
table. Can we move on? Next question?"</span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
</ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle>
<span lang="EN">President Dwight Eisenhower established
the President's Council on Youth Fitness on July 16, 1956 (now known as <a href="http://fitness.gov/">The President's Council on Physical Fitness and
Sports</a>) after learning from a study that American youth were less fit than
European youth. Today <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2010/06/24/president-s-council-fitness-sports-and-nutrition">the
Council is still going strong</a>—with Olympians and professional athletes
on board—<a href="http://www.letsmove.gov/blog/2010/08/11/exclusive-video-look-inside-south-lawn-series">working
in conjunction with the First Lady Michelle Obama’s Let’s Move initiative</a></span> <span lang="EN">to help <a href="http://www.letsmove.gov/blog/2010/08/11/exclusive-video-look-inside-south-lawn-series">promote
healthier lifestyles</a>. </span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
<ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle style="color: #943634;">
<span lang="EN">I hated compulsory PE my entire
scholastic career – especially in college (how the BLEEP can that be a
college requirement???), and even when I was co-captain of my high school
wrestling team my senior year (I was our school's first four-year
wrestler), my unsportsmanlike conduct during our first-ever
"Home" meet resulted in me having to apologize to the entire
opposing team, in their locker room, after a match I won handily. In hindsight, a little more physical discipline and a lot less attitude would have been very beneficial because, as I've mentioned above, I'm now
overweight. <br /> </span></licxspmiddle></li>
<li><span lang="EN">It was a heck of a match though! You
should have seen it! Even though I
ended up being the "bad guy", I still love to tell that story.
I don't think it would make a good blog post however – the physical
semantics are half the story. If I
could get a young stand-in to reenact the match... hey, wait a minute...
I'm thinking that would make a pretty good climactic scene in a movie,
provided no one minds the protagonist acting like a total jerk...</span>
</li>
</ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle>
<span lang="EN">President John F. Kennedy famously suggested
the American people: “Ask what you can do for your country.” In 1961, the Peace
Corps was created, facilitating service among citizens working toward peace
in developing countries. In 2011, President Obama celebrated the <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2011/03/29/peace-corps-reflects-diversity-america-story-celebrating-service">50th
anniversary of the Peace Corps</a></span> <span lang="EN">with a <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/the-press-office/2011/02/28/presidential-proclamation-50th-anniversary-peace-corps">Presidential
Proclamation</a>. </span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
<ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle style="color: #943634;">
<span lang="EN">I celebrate things all the time,
except I've never actually celebrated the Peace Corps specifically
(although I can pronounce their name correctly). Like President Kennedy,
I'm always asking myself what I – or anyone – can do for our country
(other than the obvious answer involving the election), but unlike
Kennedy, I keep coming up blank.</span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
</ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle>
<span lang="EN">President Lyndon Johnson signed Medicare
signed <span style="color: #943634;">(sic!)</span> into law in 1965—providing millions of elderly healthcare
stability. President Obama’s historic health care reform law, the <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/healthreform">Affordable Care Act</a>, <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2012/02/29/making-medicare-stronger">strengthens
Medicare</a>, offers eligible seniors a range of preventive services with no
cost-sharing, and provides discounts on drugs when in the coverage gap known
as the “donut hole.” </span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
<ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle style="color: #943634;">
<span lang="EN">OK, I don't know if I can out-stupid
the President on this one. I don't go around over-reaching the
Constitution, or trying to implement socialist policies, and in fact when <span class="SpellE">Obamacare</span> was passed I was out of state, busy
adopting my younger daughter, which was a GREAT decision by the way. I'm yielding on this one, and I'm not
too fond of LBJ's activities either.</span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
</ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle>
<span lang="EN">In 1973, Richard Nixon created The President’s
Export Council, which was expanded and reconstituted under <a href="http://whitehouse.gov/about/presidents/jimmycarter">President Jimmy Carter </a>in 1979. Today the PEC continues to work towards reaching <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2011/11/16/ambassador-kirk-updates-presidents-export-council-2011-trade-updates-and-initiatives">President
Obama’s goal of doubling the nation’s exports by 2014’s end</a>. </span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
<ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle style="color: #943634;">
<span lang="EN">In 1991 a buddy of mine and I
entered into negotiations with the Japanese Exchange Trade Organization
(JETRO), regarding our desire and intent to import custom parts of an
invention we'd jointly developed. Sadly, neither of us could negotiate (or afford) our way through the
Patent maze at the time, and within a few years someone else had patented
the idea. Oh well, live and learn. Or at least live.</span> </licxspmiddle></li>
</ul>
<li><span style="color: #943634;">If I do say so myself, I'm something of a whiz at
Photoshop. However, my free-hand artistic skills are pretty much
non-existent. That said, sometime during
Gerald R Ford's administration, 1974 to 1977, I one day – just out of the blue –
suddenly drew the best free-hand drawing of my entire life, on a chalkboard I
had mounted in my bedroom. First let me answer the obvious question of "Why
was there a chalkboard in my bedroom?" Because my handwriting was that
bad, and I needed the practice. The
practice didn't help – my handwriting is still that bad. Anyways, my best
free-hand artistic effort just cut loose one day and low and behold there
appeared almost as if by magic not only a drawing, but an actual portrait. Of Gerald R Ford. I still have no idea
why. Don't get me wrong, I liked Ford.
But I didn't idolize him, so "Why him?" is probably a question that
will remain unanswered this side of Glory. But, unlike our President, at least I have a "Gerald R Ford"
story to tell, and as far as stories go, it is kind of stupid.</span></li>
<li>
<licxspmiddle>
<span lang="EN">In 1977, President Jimmy Carter created the Department of Energy; today the
DOE works with the Obama Administration to drive towards <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/energy/">innovation in energy</a></span> <span lang="EN">and reducing reliance on foreign
oil with an <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2012/03/12/blueprint-secure-energy-future-one-year-progress-report">“all
of the above” approach</a>. </span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
<ul>
<li><span lang="EN">Once again I'm going to have to
yield on being able to out-stupid the President. There's nothing I've done having
anything at all to do with energy, or oil and gas, that can compare to
the stupidity of the DOE or the current administration, and I say that as
someone who as a young man burned up four engines in two vehicles by
being too stupid to understand the basic concept of "oil
change", PLUS having been electrocuted (or at least badly shocked)
on many occasions, including one which sent me flying across a warehouse
to land dazed and staring at the ceiling. Everything tasted like copper
for days, and NO, I hadn't bitten into a power line.</span></li>
</ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle>
<span lang="EN"><a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2012/01/13/archives-president-reagan-designates-martin-luther-king-jr-day-federal-holiday">President
Reagan designated Martin Luther King Jr. Day a national holiday</a>; today
the Obama Administration <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/the-press-office/presidential-proclamation-martin-luther-king-jr-day">honors
this tradition</a>, with the First and Second Families <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2012/01/16/first-and-second-families-participate-national-day-service">participating
in service</a></span> <span lang="EN">projects
on this day. </span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
<licxspmiddle>
<span lang="EN">In a June 28, 1985 speech Reagan called
for a fairer tax code, one where a multi-millionaire did not have a lower tax
rate than his secretary. Today, President Obama is calling for the same with
the <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/economy/buffett-rule">Buffett Rule</a>. </span>
<ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle style="color: #943634;">
<span lang="EN">I call for a <i><b>Regressive</b></i> income tax
code, wherein the government awards and promotes success by instituting the
"more you earn, the higher percentage you get to keep"
rule. If we're going to have an
income tax, and it isn't a flat tax, I think this system would be
the best option. However,
even I recognize that as a political position it would be stupid. Sad but
true.</span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
</ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle>
<span lang="EN">President Barack Obama awarded George
H.W. Bush the 2010 Presidential Medal of Freedom, the nation’s highest civilian
honor, for his commitment to service and ability to inspire volunteerism throughout
the country, encouraging citizens to be “a thousand points of light.” The administration
continues to promote service and civic engagement, honoring heroes of local
communities as “<a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/champions">Champions of
Change</a>” and <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/administration/eop/sicp/">fostering civic participation</a>. </span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
<ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle style="color: #943634;">
<span lang="EN">Ages and ages ago I used to volunteer
and teach remedial English and Math at an organization that had been
designated as one of the "thousand points of light". Granted,
there's nothing stupid about that on my part, but it is getting very hard
to "one down" this President so at the moment I'm just aiming
for "tangentially related".</span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
</ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle>
<span lang="EN">Continuing his work as a lifelong public
service, Clinton created the Clinton Foundation in 2001 to improve global health,
education, economies and environments. Affectionately <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/the-press-office/2011/09/21/remarks-president-obama-and-president-clinton-clinton-global-initiative">calling
him “Do-<span class="SpellE">Gooder</span>-in-Chief”</a>, President Obama has
worked with Clinton to make buildings in our country more efficient—<a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/photos-and-video/video/2011/12/02/president-obama-and-president-clinton-speak-better-building-initia">announcing</a></span> <span lang="EN">a <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2011/12/02/president-obama-announces-4-billion-investment-make-buildings-more-energy-efficient">$4
billion investment in energy efficiency upgrades</a></span> <span lang="EN">for
commercial buildings. </span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
<licxspmiddle>
<span lang="EN">In 2009, former President Clinton <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2010/01/16/clinton-bush-haiti-fund">partnered</a></span> <span lang="EN">with <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/about/presidents/williamjclinton">43rd President
Bush</a></span> <span lang="EN">to <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2010/01/16/clinton-bush-haiti-fund">help
rebuild Haiti</a>, after the country was devastated by an earthquake. </span>
<ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle style="color: #943634;">
<span lang="EN">Sometime in the mid-90's I drove
120mph through Hope, Arkansas, in fact pretty much through ALL of
Arkansas, on I-30 because I was just that impatient to get to Nashville.
Had I been caught, they'd have thrown me into jail. Now THAT'S stupid!</span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
</ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle>
<span lang="EN">In 2002, President George W. Bush’s State
of the Union was the first to be live broadcast on the Internet. In 2011 and
2012, President Obama’s State of the Union speeches were available in an <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/state-of-the-union-2012">enhanced live stream
versi</a><a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/state-of-the-union-2012">on</a></span> <span lang="EN">that featured <span class="SpellE">infographics</span>, charts and data side-by-side in real time
with the President’s speech. </span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
<licxspmiddle>
<span lang="EN">In 2009, former President Bush <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2010/01/16/clinton-bush-haiti-fund">partnered</a></span> <span lang="EN">with <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/about/presidents/williamjclinton">42nd President
Clinton</a></span> <span lang="EN">to <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2010/01/16/clinton-bush-haiti-fund">help
rebuild Haiti</a>, after the country was devastated by an earthquake. </span>
<ul>
<li>
<licxspmiddle style="color: #943634;">
<span lang="EN">I just recently started my own blog (psssst! look around - I'm referring to this one!), thanks to the kind arm-twisting of Harvey at <a href="http://imao.us/">imao.us</a>, and as you can see there are not only just a very few posts at present, but also their quality varies wildly!</span>
</licxspmiddle></li>
</ul>
</licxspmiddle></licxspmiddle></licxspmiddle></ul>
OK, so who won?<br clear="all" style="page-break-before: always;" />
<pcxspmiddle>
</pcxspmiddle></div>Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-66205922677362893072012-05-09T12:35:00.000-07:002012-05-09T12:35:55.981-07:00The Parable of the Talents, 2012I'm a bit belated getting this up here, but thanks again to Harvey at imao.us, this time for posting my thoughts on an updated, non-biblical (let's be clear about that), version of the Parable of the Talents.<br />
<br />
<br />
That post is located here: <a href="http://www.imao.us/index.php/2012/05/the-parable-of-the-talents-2012-version/" target="_blank">The Parable of the Talents: 2012 Version</a>Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-6064009494594065052012-05-07T23:00:00.000-07:002013-01-16T21:27:09.753-08:00The Zombie Apocalypse is the Best Case ScenarioYet again, Hollywood has gotten it all wrong. There is now an entire cinematic genre based on a complete misconception: A "Zombie Apocalypse" is not a worst-case scenario. In fact as far as Apocalypses go, it should be considered the Best Case Scenario.<br />
<br />
Let me
explain, but first let’s make it clear that we’re talking about actual ZOMBIES. The walking, brain-hungry, contagious corpses. For the purposes of this discussion they could, however, be either the traditional “slow shuffling” or the new Mark II “sprinting” zombies – that aspect doesn’t matter.<br />
<br />
There is a certain strategic moral clarity involved when fighting the “undead” that you don’t get when combating other types of eldritch creatures. For example, it is always emotionally painful to kill a werewolf because you know that when the lycanthropic fit has passed, or when they approach room temperature, they will go back to being the local grocer, the kid down the block, or your girlfriend, so as difficult as such activities may be, trapping, caging, and quarantining are almost always better options.<br />
<br />
Even if you add vampires into the mix, so that “hiding” becomes the only available course of action, given enough garlic, silver, and bright lights (and here I need to ask you to try not to think about skyrocketing grocery produce and metal prices, or of the plan to ban incandescent bulbs, and just make an effort to focus on the narrative) you can usually render yourself secure against the creatures of the night.<br />
<br />
But with zombies you have no such concerns. If zombies are on the loose, and you find yourself at a decent vantage point with a high-powered rifle, not even the preachiest starch-collared moralist will look down their nose at you for engaging in some much-needed target practice. If you’ve got some buddies around, you could even make a game of it, and in fact that’s <b><i>so obvious</i></b> that it is a recurring cinematic meme often used for entertaining and action-packed screen-filler before the required 60-minute plot-twist mark is reached. But even though they spend millions of dollars filming such scenes, and seem to have a great time doing so, they still miss the big liberating point: <b><i>In no other type of Apocalypse can you do that!</i></b><br />
<br />
<table border="1" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="1" style="width: 600px;">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td bgcolor="black" colspan="2" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom"><b><span style="color: white;">What They Would Label The Act of Randomly Shooting Approaching Entities, by Apocalypse Type:</span></b></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" bgcolor="#cccccc" nowrap="nowrap" valign="bottom" width="207"><b><i>Type of Apocalypse</i></b></td>
<td avalign="bottom" bgcolor="#cccccc" nowrap="nowrap" width="493"><b><i>Label</i></b></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top" width="207"><b>Obamacare Death Panel Appointee Infestation</b></td>
<td valign="top" width="493"><b>Murder</b>, with fierce debate over whether "justified" or not, depending on the State in which it occurred. </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top" width="207"><b>Tyrannical Government Instituting Stalinistic Measures Other Than Obamacare</b></td>
<td valign="top" width="493"><b>Murder</b> - most likely followed quickly with "Suicide by Cop". </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top" width="207"><b>Biker Gang</b></td>
<td valign="top" width="493">Either
<b>Homicide</b>, <b>Manslaughter</b>, or <b>Self-Defense</b>, depending on the prosecutor. Not that it matters, since - like most of the
"good-guys-who-aren't-Mel-Gibson" characters in "Road Warrior" - you probably won't be alive for there to be a trial.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top" width="207"><b>Invading Foreign Military</b></td>
<td valign="top" width="493"><b>Short-lived Foolishness</b> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top" width="207"><b>Robot/Terminator</b></td>
<td valign="top" width="493"><b>Short-lived Foolishness</b>. Resisting our robotic overlords by other means is fine, and in fact required, but just randomly plinking away at them from on high is a useless waste of ammunition and doesn't take into consideration their ubiquitous close air support or ability to triangulate both echoes and ballistic paths within microseconds. A better option would be to locate and reprogram Summer Glau.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top" width="207"><b>Space
Alien</b></td>
<td valign="top" width="493"><b>Short-lived Foolishness</b>, because this is essentially "Invading Foreign Military" with technology and armor that likely surpasses the robots.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top" width="207"><b>Mutant Intelligent Ape</b></td>
<td valign="top" width="493"><b>Yay! Oh I mean, uh, Short-lived Foolishness</b>. It has been pointed out that, excepting an Obamacare scenario, a line needs to be drawn between an "Infestation" and an "Apocalypse". In an infestation such an act would be viewed more along the lines of shooting Zombies in terms of general appreciation by your fellow humans. But given that the adjective "Intelligent" is in the name for a reason, in an Apocalyptic scenario they would essentially be indistinguishable from an Invading Foreign Military, except for the delightful smell.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top" width="207"><b>Lycanthropic</b></td>
<td valign="top" width="493"><b>Murder</b> - and rather difficult to explain to skeptical police come the dawn. <br />
However, it does leave the door open for an insanity plea.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top" width="207"><b>Rage Virus</b></td>
<td valign="top" width="493">Depending on whether the government has or hasn't fallen, and if still extant then whether or not it is working on developing a treatment, this could range anywhere from <b>Self-Defense</b> to <b>Murder</b>.<br />
<br />
In an Interregnum they should be considered akin to smart, fast, strong, cooperative, vengeful, rabid, and extremely angry Zombies with a chip on their collective shoulders against all of Creation. <br />
<br />
Engaging them simply for target practice would be <b>Foolishness</b>, although its duration (short-lived versus prolonged) would likely be determined on a per-mêlée basis.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top" width="207"><b>Reaver</b></td>
<td valign="top" width="493">Unless you just happen to be Summer Glau, this is <b>Short-lived Foolishness,<br />
</b>and<b> Not At All Shiny</b>. <br />
<br />
Behaviorally, Reavers can be considered akin to "Lycanthropes without an off switch", or "Rage Virus Patients in Space" who have retained both their mechanical skills and ability to strategize. <br />
<br />
People encountering Reavers can expect to be raped to death, have their flesh eaten, and their skin sewn into the Reavers’ clothing, and according to reliable sources if someone is very lucky they'll do it in that order. <br />
<br />
Given Reavers' preference for "hit and run" tactics, both hiding and fleeing have proven to be very successful survival strategies, thus the label "Short-lived Foolishness" is deserved.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top" width="207"><b>Demonic</b></td>
<td valign="top" width="493"><b>Even Shorter-lived Foolishness</b></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top" width="207"><b>Angelic</b></td>
<td valign="top" width="493"><b>The Shortest-lived Foolishness</b>, as well as <b>The Stupidest and Most Vain Activity Imaginable</b></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="center" valign="top" width="207"><b>Zombie</b></td>
<td valign="top" width="493"><b>Fun and Productive!</b> <br />
Engenders bountiful praise from, and increases potential mating opportunities with, fellow survivors.</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<i><b>Lest one forget:</b></i><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Symbol;"></span>There are no Zombie policemen, National Guardsmen, or Soldiers.</li>
<li><span style="font-family: Symbol;"></span>There are no Zombie suicide bombers. <br />Bonus question: If there were, could you still call them “suicide” bombers? Really? Explain.</li>
<li><span style="font-family: Symbol;"></span>Zombies don’t lead Personality Cults.</li>
<li><span style="font-family: Symbol;"></span>There will be no elections between living and Zombie candidates where the living ones squabble so much they split their base and end up getting the Zombie elected.</li>
<li><span style="font-family: Symbol;"></span>A significant percentage of the population will not be persuaded that “even though they’re not really in favor of them”, the Zombie’s policies and agenda are tolerable “for the duration of the crisis”.</li>
<li><span style="font-family: Symbol;"></span>Although they’re certainly hungry, Zombies do not confiscate, much less redistribute, food.</li>
<li><span style="font-family: Symbol;"></span>None of your neighbors will be co-opted into a secret police looking to rat you out to the Zombies.</li>
<li><span style="font-family: Symbol;"></span>Zombies do not create websites with creepy slide shows extolling the virtues of living under their rule.</li>
<li><span style="font-family: Symbol;"></span>Zombies don’t gather and maintain databases of your personal, commercial, or medical information.</li>
<li><span style="font-family: Symbol;"></span>Zombies, ironically, don’t impose gun-control laws.</li>
<li><span style="font-family: Symbol;"></span>Under no circumstance would Zombies ever be put in charge of the Fed, although now that I think about it, that’s kind of sad because it would HAVE to be an improvement, and besides – no Zombie is either stupid or evil enough to ever try to monetize the national debt. I guess nothing’s perfect.</li>
</ul>
<b><i>CLEARLY</i></b>, if you’re going to have an Apocalypse, and you have a choice, choose “<b>Zombie</b>”!Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-84525398213502935662012-05-07T12:12:00.000-07:002012-05-09T12:25:46.500-07:00Habitat Expansion Infrastructure Arrives, Part 1Since the gang likes a great deal more than just the "all bananas, all the time" diet, our recent team expansion threw into sharp relief the need to kick our aquaponics project into high gear.<br />
<br />
While the tilapia are doing fine, as are the crayfish when not busy trying to kill each other, we still don't have enough of either to satisfy the truly breathtaking appetites our growing cadre of varied Praefulgidopithecii display. Even if we waited until harvest to start on the road to self-sufficiency, if we desire to have anything left after Thanksgiving it's obvious we're going to have to expand our agricultural and aquacultural efforts considerably. <br />
<br />
To that end, I was thrilled beyond measure to have just been gifted with 19 additional 275-gallon IBC Totes, the first installment of which were delivered yesterday.<br />
<br />
You should have heard the racket! The Sparkling Howlers were doing their best Banshee (from X-Men) impersonations, and the Callithrixii Micans just would not cease chattering away like angry squirrels. Of course, they do that all the time anyways, so it takes a practiced ear to detect the enthusiasm, but believe me - it was there. Our HOA hates me, by the way.<br />
<br />
There were two unpleasant surprises. When the first five tanks arrived it became obvious that not only had they apparently been used for holding highway-striping paint, but also that none of them were completely empty!<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu6yl-MjxRoyj7o9qQIw67Zp19tgcTVpM8Z-BRrJAi0fSFoB2LLXEpJVm6QP8_q2w8-WYMhLbAJiEjAdWDXClRB2RxkFve-heQeDSmYWAiChUycECscazNP_-6nL0J36bsKv2MQDRl39Y/s1600/Photo_050712_001_sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu6yl-MjxRoyj7o9qQIw67Zp19tgcTVpM8Z-BRrJAi0fSFoB2LLXEpJVm6QP8_q2w8-WYMhLbAJiEjAdWDXClRB2RxkFve-heQeDSmYWAiChUycECscazNP_-6nL0J36bsKv2MQDRl39Y/s400/Photo_050712_001_sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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So I've got a bit of a clean-out job ahead of me, and I have no idea what I'm going to do with, or where to dispose of, all this old highway paint. Also, if you're wondering if the presence of a large group of atomic monkeys wanting to
help out is a good thing, the answer is "no".<br />
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Or at least "mostly no". The Orcicircumlucens did take a break from trying to dominate each other to help me heave the tanks over the fence, which was something I don't think I could manage alone.Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-17319102257539166932012-05-07T06:23:00.000-07:002012-05-09T12:28:23.225-07:00Sometimes just trimming the fat isn't enoughThanks again to Harvey at <a href="http://imao.us/">imao.us</a> for airing my thoughts regarding what we should do about the monster in Washington D.C.<br />
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That post is located here: <a href="http://www.imao.us/index.php/2012/05/the-best-way-to-trim-the-fat-from-government-spending/">The Best Way to Trim the Fat From Government Spending</a>Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-64079708116566431182012-05-07T06:20:00.000-07:002012-05-09T12:36:06.330-07:00My Presidential Address to a Special Joint Session of Congress Regarding the Federal BudgetMany thanks to Harvey at <a href="http://imao.us/">imao.us</a> for posting this long rant of mine here:<br />
<a href="http://www.imao.us/index.php/2012/05/any-president-who-gave-this-speech-would-win-in-a-landslide/">Any President Who Gave This Speech Would Win In a Landslide</a>Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-5224401635591520722012-05-06T19:39:00.000-07:002012-07-26T20:21:16.916-07:00Wisdom from My Father<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
My father passed away just over a year ago, in April of 2011. This post is an adaptation from the eulogy I stumbled through during his memorial service.</div>
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It is impossible to sum my father up in the space of a normal blog post – or even the lengthy “normal” that passes as normal for me, and if I started with "how can I do this, where shall I start?" I'd sound like I was complaining, which would be wholly inappropriate.</div>
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I've realized that I don't know what his favorite saying was, unless it was his favorite Bible verse (II Corinthians 5:17). Don't get me wrong, he certainly had some well-worn sayings, like "Please Don't Eat the Daisies" (that's a Doris Day reference by the way) but I don't think I can call that a “favorite saying” given that I know he would have <b><i>absolutely loved</i></b> to have never had an occasion to say it.</div>
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What was his dominate characteristic? Was it love? Was it honesty? Was it his devotion to the disabled? Was it his expansive acceptance of others, or his ability to exhort anyone towards success? Maybe. He had those traits in spades, but underneath it all I think there was something else, something primal, and by that I mean something I believe God built into him from the start, long before he ever came to know Christ. </div>
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Persistence. Tenacious persistence. A dogged determination to pursue what was right and to slog through to his goal regardless the opposition. </div>
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I’ve come to realize that if you don't do something in life for a long, long time, you often forget how. I think that might be one of the possible ramifications of the “Parable of the Talents”, but even if not – it still seems true. Like everyone else, Dad occasionally failed at something - it was very rare, but it did happen, and he considered that a crucial part of the learning process - but I honestly think he forgot how to quit long ago. That is, of course, if he ever knew. He couldn't quit. Quitting did not seem to tempt him. I'm not sure he even understood why people would quit because taking the easy road or the easy way out held no appeal for him. </div>
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When I was a child, my father told me about Winston Churchill's famous "Never give in" speech, although he had heard it as, and relayed it to me as, "Never give up." He was emphatic about not quitting. </div>
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When I first watched the movie "The Terminator", in the part where the character Reese in describing the cyborg says in part "...and it absolutely will not stop, ever!!!" I thought "Funny, I didn't realize they consulted my dad on the system requirements". </div>
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He never quit. He didn't quit on his marriage, his kids, his extended family, or his friends. He even didn't quit on MY friends. Although I expect most might not want to admit it (although some readily would), in the long run the thing that benefited a number of my friends the most from knowing me was in fact getting the opportunity to know my father. And he never quit on them. He could always be counted on.</div>
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Don’t get me wrong - he knew how to play by the rules (he was an outstanding lawyer after all), so he was not one to keep moving the ball down the field once the final whistle had blown, and we can all be mighty thankful for that because otherwise I'm sure he'd still be haunting us to this day. Please forgive my off-color sense of humor, but can you imagine a greater danger than a Churchillian Zombie Charley? How could you ever get away? "Quick! We can probably make it to the roof!" "No, he would have already thought of that, in fact – in fact – well surely he’s already gotten the building's architectural plans from his staff!" “You’re right, and don’t call me Shirley!” </div>
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Aside from those foes normally encountered in the Christian walk, I think God gave Dad some special adversaries. Ones that kept him sharp, ones he could defeat time and time again. In fact, I think the argument can be made that God put Dad on Earth to wage battle with two unique foes - the IRS, on behalf of his clients, and Murphy's Law, on behalf of everyone. He was always considering the ramifications of a given course of action. Somehow - and I don't know how - he didn't seem to get bogged down in "analysis paralysis", perhaps because of the speed at which his mind worked. But he was always full of advice. And I don't mean the "gosh I wish he'd stop with the nosey intrusions into my business" type of advice. No, I mean the "Whew! He just stopped me from walking off a cliff I didn't even know was there!" type of advice.</div>
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He was singularly insightful in areas that mattered to him. Of course, you could baffle him with technology - he was generations behind even his peers and this didn't distress him. He went to his grave happily never having had a Facebook page. But he was ahead of the game on some things, and on more than one occasion he <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">changed my entire life with a sentence</i></b>. Let me share a couple with you...</div>
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When Ted Turner outraged a bunch of people, myself at least temporarily included, by saying "Christianity is for losers", Dad said "He's right. Good thing too. Pity he doesn't realize what losers all we humans are."</div>
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When Madonna (of whom I was a bit surprised my Dad was even aware) was doing her outrageous stage act featuring her own crucifixion, and several religious groups were freaking out in the media, Dad's totally untroubled response was pretty much "Well, I don't expect people who don't share my beliefs to act like they do."</div>
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When I was angry at some media figure, and I don't remember who, for some seeming blasphemy, Dad admonished me saying "Why are you getting all worked up over this? God's big enough to handle the insult if he wishes, and why in the world would you expect the Lost to act like anything other than lost?" </div>
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He didn't say this arrogantly. “Lost” was not an insult coming out of his mouth. It was a status – a factual state of being. He knew very well that he didn't earn his own salvation, that neither he nor I were any better than "the Lost". But we did by grace of God know something they didn't. So why get angry at them for their ignorance? Was it their own fault that they didn't know what they didn't know? This was a lesson I'm fairly certain I would never have figured out on my own. Ever. </div>
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So among my father's many lessons to me that he demonstrated consistently and without fail I will sum up with these: Love people for who they are, where they are, and never give up. It should go without saying but I'm going to say it anyways, you can do none of these - and Dad knew this - unless Christ is your strength and you do it ultimately for him.</div>
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<br /></div>Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221545106022014318.post-18555295554348762142012-05-06T18:28:00.001-07:002012-05-06T18:28:50.101-07:00The Atomic Monkey Action Squad is on the loose!<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
A dark and shadowy figure, looking suspiciously like <city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Harvey</place></city> from imao.us, kept twisting until the lock on the cage broke. There wasn't all that much twisting, but then again it wasn't much of a lock either.</div>
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So the Atomic Monkey Action Squad is out and on the loose, and already people are objecting, saying "wait a minute, there seems to be an awful lot of apes involved... what are you, some kind of Conservatard who doesn't know the difference between a Monkey and an Ape?</div>
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Well, let me just ask all of you diversity-obsessed speciesists; Do you have to be an American to work for the American Telephone and Telegraph corporation? Or for American Airlines? Did you have to be one of the mer-folk in order to work for Pacific Bell? Or do you have to be a bi-valve in order to work for Shell?</div>
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No! So enough of this silly talk. </div>
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"Atomic Monkey Action Squad" is our NAME, but we're proud that we hire based on merit alone. OK, merit, and personal appeal. Or bribery. Whatever! But the point is we're not just blindly speciesist.</div>
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Thank you. You are now free to go about your day.</div>Atomic Monkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00754663122892576264noreply@blogger.com0