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I've moved!!

The new address for the blog is here!.

Just to be kind of annoying, unless you click stop now, you'll be automatically redirected there in about three....two....one....See you on the other side, Neo.

md

Do you bite your thumb at me, sir?

All of the hoopla about Vice President Cheney's hunting accident has made me pause and ponder. Why, in an 'enlightened' society, has honor gone the way of the do-do?

Consider for a moment the lowly place that honesty and integrity holds in our culture. What were once two of the most lauded values in a person now rank somewhere beneath what brand of socks a man wears. '

Dictionary.com defines honor as follows:

High respect, as that shown for special merit; esteem: the honor shown to a Nobel laureate.
Good name; reputation.
A source or cause of credit: was an honor to the profession.
Glory or recognition; distinction.
A mark, token, or gesture of respect or distinction: the place of honor at the table.
A military decoration.
A title conferred for achievement.
High rank.
The dignity accorded to position: awed by the honor of his office.

And just what's not to like about honor? Why is it our society applauds people like DeLay and KennyBoy Lay, until they get caught? Why do voters turn a blind-eye to corruption in the ranks of government until a watchdog media group shames them into voting for someone else? It is almost as if we encourage theft. "Right on there, chap. Just don't get caught!"

I demand we return to honor...and I have a solution to make honor mean something: duels.

Not of the Yugi-Oh variety but good, old fashioned, walk twenty paces, turn and fire duels. Consider for a moment the events leading up to a duel.

Someone challenges a statement or action you have made. That person must back up their words with their very life. Likewise, you must defend your actions, words and deeds with your life. Would not someone be more careful of accusations if they might pay for those accusations with the forfeit of their life? How about you? How likely are you to lie if that lie might mean a gunshot to the chest or a blade run through your aorta?

You get my point.

When we stopped defending our "sacred honor" with the end of a sword, we lost the ability to make sure our words mean something. Where we once had "My word is like oak," we are left grovelling in a land of "Sign this contract, which will not guarantee, indemnify or warranty any provisional services agreed to by the signants."

No wonder our politicos are all going to jail. They don't have to worry about their honor. Write your legislators today and encourage them to re-establish laws governing duels. Let's codify them and maybe--just maybe--honor will again mean something.

I'm a quick enough draw and I know how to use a sword. Do you?

And I think to myself.

Stop for a moment and ponder the awesome complexity of the world in which we live.

Still pondering? Good. It's complex. Really complex. Quit thinking about your own bodies for a moment and think big picture -- really big! Global. Weather patterns over the Sahara change fishing conditions in Louisiana. Fish spawning in Oregon affect whaling traffic in Norway. Now think small...smaller than you...think bees.

Ever hear of a bee's nectar dance? Pretty crazy stuff, really. Back in 1960, a crazy German named Karl von Frisch (I swear I'm not making this up!) proposed something really truly nuts: the waggle that a bee does upon return to the hive is actually a form of very complex communication with the other bees. That's right. Bees talk, according to some wacky German zoologist. Unfortunately for me, you, and the rest of the world, the wacky German zoologist wasn't so wacky. In fact, he was a Nobel laureate and as such, was saying to the world that bees talk -- and saying so through the very large microphone of Nobel statesmanship.

Everyone thought he was crazy, or at least a bit misguided. After all, couldn't that crazy dancing bee simply be spreading the scent of the flower in which he found the nectar? The other bees are then gathering around not to *watch* but to smell and thus find the nectar.

That was the generally accepted consensus of bee-obsessed zoologists for over forty years. Enter today, though, and someone thought to attach *radar* to the backs of bees.

The BBC is featuring an article on this study, which proves decisively that the bees are, in fact, using complex communications to convey the locations of nectar stashes.

I write all of this simply to point out that most major scientific achievments are at first considered cracked-pot theories of the half-insane. Imagine what kind of world we would live in today had Einstein not been taken seriously. If we listened more to crazy scientists and less to crazy politicians, we'd have cheap, universal energy sources, be traveling the stars in a starship, and zipping around the oceans talking to whales. Instead, we're coming off of the bloodiest century in the history of humanity and entering what promises to be a terrific sequel to it. (Remember the rule of sequels, my friends: the body count has to be double the original, or it sucks.)

So...the next time you're sitting in a coffee shop and two geeks are debating the veracity of a quantum computing theory, buy stock in their company and send them on their merry way. And if a politician tells you that he will vote for a research project because it is good science, remember that 'good science' in politics translates to 'powerful weapon.'

Happy Holidays. Now Piss Off.

I offered to help a friend with her Christmas party this year, catering/food/bar stuff. Nothing too big, right? (BAAAAAAAAHHHHNK, sorry, that's the wrong answer.) Somewhere in my brain, the words "Christmas" and "party" simply didn't compute into the holiday season.

I generally like holidays, just not this one. Perhaps the reason I dislike Christmas is that it's the one time of year I am absolutely obligated to spend it with family. Or maybe, it's the shoppers. I enjoy shopping and supporting the economy as much as the next guy, but really. Does your father-in-law *really* need that new nose-hair trimmer enough to justify holding up the entire buggy traffic of the entire health and beauty section? Maybe, it's the entire 'happy holidays' versus 'Merry Christmas debacle that comes up every friggin year. (Just for the two of you still read my blog and are sensitive to these things, xmas comes from the Greek spelling of Christ, which begins with an X. Thus "xmas" isn't 'taking the Christ out of Christmas.)

Then there's the whole superficial aspect of it. We feel like we *have* to buy everyone we know the useless shit that Wal-Mart manages to pile on every endcap, every square centimeter of shelving, every aisle. We *demand* that we buy them 'something'. These gifts are for people that, typically, fall into two categories: those about whom we care deeply and those about whom we couldn't care less. Of course the irony of this situation is that those in the first group always lose out to those in the second.

Why is it we feel the need to purchase crap in the first place? And that's usually what we purchase: crap. Even for the really important people. Parents, siblings, wives, girlfriends, children. Usually, we're too busy worrying about everything we have to do for the people we *shouldn't* care about pleasing and thus fail to please those we do care about pleasing.

Just a few days ago, I was assisting a friend in Christmas shopping for a loved one. While standing over the case of items for sale, we began a discussion about which of the two possible items (both of which, combined, were less than the friend's self-imposed spending limit). Finally, I made the most logical suggestion.

"Get them both."

"I can't do that. That's two gifts when I really only have to buy one," she says.

"It's not like you're spending any more money," I say.

"Well, I could get one for Christmas and one for his birthday in February," she says.

I groan. This makes her upset enough to get personal. "Hey. I'm not you. I like to watch my money."

Why? Does it do tricks? Maybe I should watch your money too.

Maybe that's my fundamental breakdown with the holidays. It's all about the coin. How much did you spend on so-and-so. Did they spend more than you. What happened to genuine fellowship and caring? When did the Holiday Season morph into a season spent shopping rather than a season spent *with* those for whom you now shop? Are we really so callous as to think our girlfriends won't love us as much if we don't buy them the $20 gold earrings? (And let's pray to God that she isn't allergic to the posts -- which aren't surgical steel.)

Perhaps I'm unhappy with the holidays because I'm not one of those people who can spend the money. I have been that person before. Presents for everyone, even the Dirty Uncle Sal. But even then, I still felt all of these things. Money you can make more of. Happiness, though, is an art you have to practice to master. Practice a lot.

That's what gets me. I'm a fairly happy person and everyone around me is completely and utterly unhappy. "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays" or "Happy Christmahanakwanzikas" or whatever debate you wish to have is irrelevant -- especially if all you can do is argue about what to say to one another when passing in the halls at work. Yet here we are, talking about "taking Christ out of 'xmas' (see above). I actually heard a conversation about how secular Christmas has become -- between two women fawning over a wire bin full of Santa Clauses and Penguin ornaments. "I can't believe that they say 'happy holidays' now," one of the women said with disdain. Her friend, apparently in agreement, started venting about the people in the store being pushy -- including a moment where she elbowed a twelve-year-old out of her way, adding a terse "Excuse you." Turning back to her friend, she sighed. "See what I mean?"

How about this for Christmas: let's give everyone a break? Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza. Chinese New Year? Who gives a flip! To the bitches at the bin, and everyone else in the world: Tis the season to be jolly. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

Christmas Shopping, Ship Me Out.

I offered to help a friend with her Christmas party this year, catering/food/bar stuff. Nothing too big, right? (BAAAAAAAAHHHHNK, sorry, that's the wrong answer.) Somewhere in my brain, the words "Christmas" and "party" simply didn't compute into the holiday season.

I generally like holidays, just not this one. Perhaps the reason I dislike Christmas is that it's the one time of year I am absolutely obligated to spend it with family. Or maybe, it's the shoppers. I enjoy shopping and supporting the economy as much as the next guy, but really. Does your father-in-law *really* need that new nose-hair trimmer enough to justify holding up the entire buggy traffic of the entire health and beauty section? Maybe, it's the entire 'happy holidays' versus 'Merry Christmas debacle that comes up every friggin year. (Just for the two of you still read my blog and are sensitive to these things, xmas comes from the Greek spelling of Christ, which begins with an X. Thus "xmas" isn't 'taking the Christ out of Christmas.)

Then there's the whole superficial aspect of it. We feel like we *have* to buy everyone we know the useless shit that Wal-Mart manages to pile on every endcap, every square centimeter of shelving, every aisle. We *demand* that we buy them 'something'. These gifts are for people that, typically, fall into two categories: those about whom we care deeply and those about whom we couldn't care less. Of course the irony of this situation is that those in the first group always lose out to those in the second.

Why is it we feel the need to purchase crap in the first place? And that's usually what we purchase: crap. Even for the really important people. Parents, siblings, wives, girlfriends, children. Usually, we're too busy worrying about everything we have to do for the people we *shouldn't* care about pleasing and thus fail to please those we do care about pleasing.

Just a few days ago, I was assisting a friend in Christmas shopping for a loved one. While standing over the case of items for sale, we began a discussion about which of the two possible items (both of which, combined, were less than the friend's self-imposed spending limit). Finally, I made the most logical suggestion.

"Get them both."

"I can't do that. That's two gifts when I really only have to buy one," she says.

"It's not like you're spending any more money," I say.

"Well, I could get one for Christmas and one for his birthday in February," she says.

I groan. This makes her upset enough to get personal. "Hey. I'm not you. I like to watch my money."

Why? Does it do tricks? Maybe I should watch your money too.

Maybe that's my fundamental breakdown with the holidays. It's all about the coin. How much did you spend on so-and-so. Did they spend more than you. What happened to genuine fellowship and caring? When did the Holiday Season morph into a season spent shopping rather than a season spent *with* those for whom you now shop? Are we really so callous as to think our girlfriends won't love us as much if we don't buy them the $20 gold earrings? (And let's pray to God that she isn't allergic to the posts -- which aren't surgical steel.)

Perhaps I'm unhappy with the holidays because I'm not one of those people who can spend the money. I have been that person before. Presents for everyone, even the Dirty Uncle Sal. But even then, I still felt all of these things. Money you can make more of. Happiness, though, is an art you have to practice to master. Practice a lot.

That's what gets me. I'm a fairly happy person and everyone around me is completely and utterly unhappy. "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays" or "Happy Christmahanakwanzikas" or whatever debate you wish to have is irrelevant -- especially if all you can do is argue about what to say to one another when passing in the halls at work. Yet here we are, talking about "taking Christ out of 'xmas' (see above). I actually heard a conversation about how secular Christmas has become -- between two women fawning over a wire bin full of Santa Clauses and Penguin ornaments. "I can't believe that they say 'happy holidays' now," one of the women said with disdain. Her friend, apparently in agreement, started venting about the people in the store being pushy -- including a moment where she elbowed a twelve-year-old out of her way, adding a terse "Excuse you." Turning back to her friend, she sighed. "See what I mean?"

How about this for Christmas: let's give everyone a break? Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza. Chinese New Year? Who gives a flip! To the bitches at the bin, and everyone else in the world: Tis the season to be jolly. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.