The Finalities of Our Times

   Is it a sorrowful thing to be completing our classes and moving on into the next semester?  Or is it a joyous occasion, one to be celebrated, to run out of class screaming and celebrating all the while?  Meh.  Could go either way, I suppose.  The most sensible answer, of course, would be somewhere in the middle of these two reactions.  I for one have learned from this class, and it has supplied me with quality experience writing the sorts of papers I will no doubt have to write throughout my time here at the U of M.  Did I enjoy every bit of the course?  Definitely not.  Will I complain about the course here?  Nope.  The important thing is that I went to class and did the best I could with the direction I was given, allowing me to hone my writing skills a bit.  I would say, not to be negative, that of the things we've done in this class, the blogs would be among the least favorable from my point of view.  While it is good experience, it just isn't my bag.  To each their own, and all that.  To everyone in the class, best of luck with your studies & if you need a hand with anything feel free to find me, I'll help if possible.  To Molly... it's been fun and best of luck with your grad work/career afterward.

Empire: A Zombie Novel

  As I walked through the bookstore, I saw a green paperback, with a seemingly human silhouette and the form of a scythe on the cover behind the words Empire: A Zombie Novel.  I was immediately intrigued.  Zombie books and Post-Apocalyptic settings have comprised some of my favorite reads.  I went in expecting zombies.  I came out delightfully surprised with a Zombie Apocalypse novel.  
  Who doesn't love a nice little zombie story, right?  In Empire: A Zombie Novel by David Dunwoody there is an aura, only found at certain places on Earth, which will reanimate dead tissue.  The government discovered this fact, and as I'm sure we would all expect, began experimenting, it is unclear however if they were seeking to make a weapon or an undead fighting force.  Whatever their intentions, of course, something went wrong.  The undead that were naturally created by these odd auras, despite them requiring to eat dead flesh to remain "alive," their bite would not create a new undead.  The undead created through government experiments were quite the opposite.  As with any good zombie novel, the undead got loose and ravaged the country for over a decade before this story actually place.  Now there are only small cells of the living operating independently.  Some are seeking to end the "war" the living have been in for so long against the dead and others are simply trying to survive.  In the midst of it all rides death atop his skeletal steed.  It is a story of survival, the human spirit, and self-discovery... not only for the living. 
  Drugs, violence, tragedy, love, plenty of action, an interesting twist on death itself, and plenty of things leaving you wondering what the hell is going on makes this quite an great read right up to the final page. Before reading, I could not have possibly pictured death in the way I now do.  Life as a whole also had a new light to it that may not have been shown to me otherwise.  I believe it is healthy to be accepting of death, of course not seeking it; but in certain scenarios, one just may be pleading for it.  In such a scenario would YOU be capable of obliging and ending the suffering?

Turkey Day '10

   Thanksgiving weekend this year I would rate amongst the lower 5% of such weekends in my lifetime.  It started with me canceling my annual backpacking trip.  This part was made alright in that it allowed me to spend Thanksgiving with my 91 year old Grandfather.  There was great food, great company, and it was the first Thanksgiving dinner I have eaten since moving back to Montana 2006 that didn't involve boiling water and pouring it onto a freeze-dried camp meal (Beef Stroganoff is the BEST!) 
   After the meal I sat on the couch, blissfully full.  While fighting off the effects of the impending food-coma, I decided I would try to hang out with my buddy Sam, as his son was with his mother that night.  Unfortunately, he had other plans.  Oh well.  I headed home instead and allowed the food-coma to overtake me.  All in all a pretty good Thanksgiving day in my hometown. 
   The following day, however, proved to be the beginning of the end for a couple of friendships.  I won't go into details, but sufficed to say, drama ran rampant from Friday through the end of the weekend.  All of this drama was, of course, due to my own idiocy earlier in the year, but nonetheless, it really brought a miserable end to an otherwise nice weekend.  Live and learn, eh?  ...and next year:  Go Camping!

Too Many Losses...

 
   Sighing, I packed up my clothes.  I knew once I got outside with the dogs I would be happy about this trip, but for now, the only thing that appealed to me was a warm, soft bed and a fluffy pillow.  Truth be told, I had been feeling the itch to get out for a while now, but the hardest thing for me to leave behind was my bed.
   The house was silent aside from the popping of bacon, spitting grease out of the pan as it fried.  Why bother making bread or harvesting eggs?  They'd only spoil over the next couple weeks.  The dogs were growing restless.  The yipping and howling had started within moments of my bedroom lighting up at 3:45.  How did they always know?  Mind adrift, I sipped on my coffee and imagined the beginning of today's trek.  The dogs and I were a bit out of shape, and may cover only 45 miles today... should make the pass in the few pre-sunrise hours remaining, leaving the treacherous descent to the few daylight hours to be encountered. 
   Feeling her warmth on my skin, I opened my eyes.  It was daylight now, confusion set in.  "Steve, what's on your mind?"  Oh, how I had missed her quiet voice!  Elation filled me, through every pore, every fiber of my being!  I could say nothing, only swim in her eyes.  She giggled, making my heart flutter.  Her arms wrapped around me, I gently pulled her close, feeling her breath on my neck.  Slowly our heads pulled back to gaze into each others eyes.  I moved my head forward, the thought of her supple lips on mine making me light-headed.
   "What's that smell?  Shit!  The bacon's burning!"  I leapt to the stove, used a towel to quell the flames, and turned the burner off.  Muttering to myself, I gnawed the charred flesh, washed the dish, and dressed to head out.  The frigid air smashed into my face causing my eyes to water, and nose to freeze instantly.  My heart felt much lighter to be outside.  The dogs were going full-blown apeshit by now, biting at their chains and each other at the sight of the harnesses I was carrying toward them.
   "Hike!"  My voice echoed across the valley bottom, followed by the excited barks and footsteps of thirteen dogs.  It was now around 5 am.  Three hours until sunrise, 20 miles remaining.  "Fat dogs or not, that's a doable pace."  As has been the case on so many trips, I could hear more footfalls than my dogs had feet.  I shone my headlamp into the woods on either side, seeing canine outlines through the trees keeping pace with my team, eyes flashing in the light.  I had made this trip a hundred times in my life.  Only on rare occasions had a pack not followed us.  Since I was a small child, riding as my father drove the team, I have thought of them as my very own secret-service.  There they were, ready to sacrifice themselves to save my life, protecting my dogs and I from the dangers of the forest.  This remembrance from my youth made me smile, cracking the ice in my beard.
   "Where did you go?" It was her again... with her azure eyes brilliantly shining in the morning sun.  I opened my mouth and tried to speak.  No words came.  The aroma of lilies filled the air.  A chill ran down my spine as her fingers caressed my back over my shirt; there was a stirring in my loins as I hadn't felt since it happened.  No, it couldn't have happened!  We are really together!  I can hear the hustle and bustle of the city outside!  I can see the sun!  No, it isn't real!  It can't be...
   The whining of a wheel-dog broke my reverie.  How long had I drifted off?  Examining my surroundings, I noticed the wolves had ended their protection-run, likely because they caught the scent of a moose nearby.  'Good for them,' I thought to myself.  'At least someone gets what they want.'  I could see the top of the pass in the pre-dawn light.  The sun was very far south this time of year.  'Is south still south?' I thought to myself.  To what extent had things changed since then?  The scientists had predicted what they called a 'polar shift.'  Who knows what that meant, or if it had happened though.  Trying to stifle the thought process, I worked the brake and ran with the dogs in silence until my lungs were on fire.  Thinking can be too painful.  Physical pain I had grown accustomed to... pain inside the soul was quite the opposite.  Everything seemed to hurt more with each passing day.  Was it the isolation?  Was it the memory of her?  That old familiar pain set in as I pondered this.  "Damn you, pull it together!"  I shouted to myself and the rest of the woods.  I sometimes use anger to distract myself from the pain.
   "Brake!  Brake kids... that's it!  Brake and hook!"  The dogs, breathing heavily, came to a stop and I set the hook deep into the snow, trying to set it into the frozen earth below.  I chipped some slop off the brick I had brought, giving a bit to each dog to gnaw on.  They loved the stuff.  Of course I only liked it when it was frozen solid, as it consisted mainly of the stomach, liver, brain, and intestines of whatever game I captured for my own sustenance.  As the dogs ate feverishly I stood atop the ridge and awaited the sunrise.  Of course, sunrise was not as beautiful or dramatic as it used to be...
   "Why do you keep leaving?"  Breathless, no words were spoken once again.  This time it was later in the day, and raining outside.  I was holding her hand.  Her skin was so warm and soft...  'Oh no!  I recognize this place!'  With a pit in my stomach I tried to break the thought, to get back to witnessing the dull sun behind permanent cloud-cover rising over the mountains to what used to be the south.  No such luck.  A dime bounced and rolled across the floor, hitting my left foot and spinning to a stop.  I remember it clear as day.  Knowing I shouldn't, I bent down to pick it up, as I had done so many years ago.  I heard her scream as the shock-wave blew me backward into the wall.
   "Lisa!!!"  My voice boomed across the canyon.  I was sweating.  Heart pounding, I sat down and cried.  There was no shame, no attempts to hide it.  After all, who was around to see it?  My dogs had seen me weep so many times, yet they would always remain faithful and supportive of me.
   We proceeded down the east side of the mountain pass and into the town at the bottom.  I got the dogs bedded down for the night and took up residence in the only building in town remaining with intact windows.  After building a fire and a quick lunch the sun was nearly set.  After another round of slop to the dogs, I dug out a hole in the snow, melted what I dug, and poured it slowly into a bowl.  At least the dogs would have a few moments to drink liquid water before they had to go back to eating snow.
   A yelping dog snapped me out of sleep.  I flew out of the building, snagging my Remington 700 on my way out, forgetting my parka.  My headlamp illuminated the form of a wolverine atop one of my dogs, blood everywhere.  Tell me this isn't happening!  Bringing the rifle to my shoulder, I fired once.  Before I heard the sound, the .308 had torn through the predator and buried itself into the snowy ground.  I ran to my dog; it was Kyla.  She was one of my smaller dogs, but definitely one of the dogs in my team with the most heart.  She was hurt.  Bad.  Her gut had been torn open; I could smell the slop she had recently ingested.  Her eyes, normally a cool, icy blue color had faded to white as she gazed up at me, too weak even to whine.  I lay down in the snow beside her, my left arm cradling her sweet head.  Her breathing grew raspy.  Choking on my tears, I told her goodbye.  Wishing I could afford to use another very rare bullet to end her suffering, I knew I had no choice.  She licked my face one last time as my arm tightened around her neck.




The story I read before composing this story was A&P, by John Updike.  Outside of the method for details, I don't believe I took much from his style when writing this piece.  Even with the details, I tried to only use his tactics in a very general sense.  I prefer to use my own words and methods, as long as things turn out well.

The Blind May See Better Than The Rest of Us

In "Cathedral," by Raymond Carver, the narrative character strikes me in the beginning strikes me as a bigot.  He is drawn to have the attitude that unless it is about him, it is not worth the thought.  Early on in the story I was rather repulsed by his character, trying to figure out why his wife was with him to begin with.  Upon meeting Robert, however, you start to see the character open up and become curious about blindness and begin asking questions out of curiosity. 

The narrator's wife, a kind-hearted woman, was in the employ of Robert while she lived in Seattle.  This is necessary information for the story.  How else would we know how she had come to be friends with this man?  Knowing this detail, we would do well to know about her relationship with her current husband, correct?  To accomplish this, we must know of how honesty and openness play a role in their marriage.  What better way to show this than to inform the reader that the husband knows everything of his wife's past, including information about her failed marriage to her high school sweetheart? 

And now I realize I have answered more than one of the questions set out in the assignment.  Ah well.  Se le vive!

Writing Advice From a Novice...

What makes a great writer?  Some witty prose and fancy words?  Excellent sentence structure?  Perhaps conviction and clarity in the work?  It is my opinion that there is no "magic" recipe for a great paper. 

What are some important things to do/rules to follow to make your paper better, from the point of view of a novice writer, typing this blog for an assignment in WRIT 101?   I'm so glad you asked! 

1.  Write, write, write.  I for one write quite often.  Mainly it is an avenue for me to release frustrations, concerns, and fears after physical activities have failed as methods to release these types of stress from my life.  I have never been incredibly effective at vocal communication methods.  I think this is the reason I have always enjoyed writing.  When I was young, I would write short stories with plots running parallel to my own life.  I wouldn't share them or even really tell anyone about them; it was merely a stress-reduction technique I adapted to my own life.  Write, then destroy the writing.  When I was in grade school, my teachers were constantly praising my stories; this continued through high school.  I am confident that the quality of those writings was due mainly to the fact that I had already written countless pages on menial subjects, trying to turn silly subjects into something I would find interesting when I read what I had written prior to destroying the work.  The old adage "Practice makes perfect" seems to ring true; though I doubt I will ever have the necessary amount of practice to write a "perfect" paper.

2.  Grammar.  There is nothing that can destroy your message faster than improper grammar.  Grammar can make the paper shine, or it can turn it into something that your audience cannot tolerate to read.  Sentence fragments, run-on sentences, over-utilization of punctuation (e.g. commas, semicolons, colons) is something that EVERYONE is guilty of at one point or another.  I, for one, tend to insert excessive commas every time I write a first draft.  They may even survive into the second or third draft.  I know I do it, so when I am editing I tend to become overly-critical of commas and remove MORE than need to be removed. 

3.  An 'outside' eye.  Someone should always read your paper before you are finished.  Even if you consider it to be perfect, always get someone else to read it and give you comments on the paper.  While we may be happy with our writing, something we need to remember is that we are not writing it for ourselves.  If we love it and our audience hates it; we may as well have never written it.  I always have a few of my local family members give me notes on major papers before I call it a "finished draft." 

4.  Build your paper.  Every word, every sentence, and every paragraph contributes a brick, a wall, a room to the construction project that is your paper.  Think about it as such:  If you were building a house, you would have to have some sort of floor plan put together so you have something to guide you through construction, right?  So why would you randomly try to group things together for a paper, paying no mind to the placement or flow of the paper?  Try constructing an outline before writing your first draft; make the order of information logical and as easy to follow as you can.  The better your layout is, the easier and more pleasant your paper will be to read. 

5.  Don't be critical, Be the largest critic.  This phrase may not make a lot of sense right off the bat.  My intention here is to say early in the writing process you should consider every word, every phrase, every sentence to be suitable.  Don't pay attention to the details; get your idea and message on the paper.  When this is roughed-in, re-read and edit, change, add, or subtract points to clarify your message.  Once you have the message 'honed' to what you want to say and how you want to say it, have someone else read your paper.  Take their notes and combine them with your own thoughts on the paper.  Scrutinize your work as though you were reading someone else's paper.  Read it as though you carry a grudge against the author.  Mark it up.  Destroy anything you think could be better, write notes on how the author could improve it, then get going on revision.  Incorporate your own notes, as well as those of the outside source as you see fit.  To me, revision is THE major step in the writing process.  No one will ever get every aspect of a paper 100% perfectly honed.  But that shouldn't stop you from trying to be the one who does.

From one novice to his classmates, these are things that I believe to be very important to the writing process.  Take them or leave them, I am sure your papers will turn out well.  Best of luck in your endeavors in WRIT 101, and I look forward to hearing about your success.

Which Might it Be?

1. After high school I dedicated nearly 10 years of my life to the military before moving back home, working a few years, and starting school.


2.  Up until a few years ago I ran a sled team; I didn't race, I simply ran them in the mountains through the winter.  I still care for 10 dogs though they are no longer a working team

3.  I was a very athletic young man, playing football mainly; I played on the losing-est team in the state of Montana

The Big Bang Theory

     I admit it.  I love nerd-based humor.  This series, about a group of "power nerds," demonstrates the oddities and quirks of the super-intelligent in a humorous fashion.  With a combined IQ over 590, the three main characters embark on the typical day to day tasks, one hopelessly in love with the beautiful woman who lives across the hall, another wholly unable to even speak in the presence of a woman, and the third, too intellectual to consider breeding worth his while.  True to life, this show is low on the debauchery meter and high on the geek-humor.  Plenty of jokes involving verbage the average person has absolutely no chance of deciphering paired with jokes made "on the level" of those of us with sub-160 IQ's, all the while making you wonder what ever would make a grown man decide he is going to transfer his personality into a robot, so that he may bless the world with his mind even after his body dies.  As difficult as it may be to believe, much of the humor and value of this show really is derived from situations that everyone finds themselves in at one time or another, they merely present themselves on the show in ways that we may not be overly-excited about in real life.  For example, perhaps you won't get a chance to visit the Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland, but chances are at one point or another you'll get the chance to do something you've always wanted to do, and maybe your friends will argue and try to bargain their way into accompanying you.  This is the show that can brighten my day every time.  Thought-worthy story, unpredictable jokes, quirky humor, and a gorgeous blonde neighbor.  How can you go wrong?
     

Op- Ed -itorium. Not a word? Piffle.

                Trifecta of Torment.  This is the title of an op-ed piece I read regarding the differences between democrat and republican policies on employment and financial matters.  I found this piece to be rather entertaining, though a bit slanted, as most op-ed’s tend to be.  This piece, to me, carries in its words a strong ethos, makes me believe what the writer is portraying.  Perhaps I find this to be the case because I agreed with him before I started reading, who knows?  The whole article, from my point of view emanates with logical statements, or logos.  It seems as though this article could sway the views of a non-extremist view, though I doubt anything will get through the hard-shell that is the extremist point of view from the right.  Perhaps the pathos meter is a bit lower than the others, but all in all I enjoyed reading the article, likely because it did agree mainly with my train of thought.

                Is Facebook a horrible, vapid waste of time?  I tend to lean toward yes.  But, as always, there is that little voice in the back of my head telling me if I remove my profile time and space could tear apart at the seams.  Okay, not quite to that extent, but for some people that truly seems to be the case.  As is the subject matter in the op-ed piece Facebook, I just can't quit you.  The author speaks of Facebook as though it is the “in” thing to have a profile.  Just as in the 90’s you weren’t “connected” unless you had a pager, and later, a cell-phone; you now cannot be “connected” unless you have a facebook page.  Sadly, this does seem to be the case for a lot of people; heck, I even have a facebook page, though I am careful not to use it much, and I never put anything deeply personal on there.  Just my paranoia perhaps.  I found myself agreeing with what this author had to say, though I was wishing it weren’t true.  Despite my need to disagree, this article was written in a very sensible manner, plainly stating how important Facebook is to survival in today’s “high-tech” times.

                An amusing article about the naivety of people was New York is Yours for the Taking, in this piece a sarcastic author explains how every New Yorker tries to fool themselves with a small town mentality.  As we know, New York is a MASSIVE city.  One should never leave anything where anyone could possibly get their hands on it.  Leave your phone in a cab?  Maybe everyone in your phone book will get a txt message asking when last they were tested.  Maybe, on the rare occasion, it will be returned by a kind soul.  But really what do you suppose the odds are of that actually happening in a city of 19 Million people (give or take)?  I agree mainly with the sarcastic, skeptical attitude I picked up through the words in this piece.  Through that, the piece has good ethos and pathos from my point of view.  Is it just me, or does it sound quite strange and awkward to incorporate words such as ethos, pathos, and logos to a paper? 

Just as I suspected...

ISTJ - "Trustee". Decisiveness in practical affairs. Guardian of time- honored institutions. Dependable. 11.6% of total population.

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Enneagram Test Results Type 1 Perfectionism |||||||||||||| 60% Type 2 Helpfulness |||||||||||| 43% Type 3 Image Awareness |||| 16% Type 4 Sensitivity |||||||||||| 43% Type 5 Detachment |||||||||||||||| 70% Type 6 Anxiety |||||||||||||| 53% Type 7 Adventurousness |||||||||||| 50% Type 8 Aggressiveness |||||||||||||| 56% Type 9 Calmness |||||||||||||||| 63% Your main type is 5 Your variant is self pres

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Main type	Variant

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      After taking three of these tests, two of the three have told me the same thing shown above, which I can relate to.  The third told me I was a "very social being, overly sensitive to external criticism."  I know the people in this class don't know me well, but this isn't me.  
      In regard to the results shown above, in short, they infer that I am a withdrawn personality, living in my own world.  I can see this being somewhat accurate as I am not the person who tends to be out to meet people.  As a matter of fact, I am not the person you want to talk to if you're looking for a sympathetic point of view in regard to the human race as a whole.  Personal problems?  I'll gladly listen and offer my sympathy, even try to cheer you up; but ask me for a sympathetic ear on a subject which I view as something we as a species have brought upon ourselves (which is most issues people will talk about regarding the human race) and I will not have much positive to say.  The results from my tests also speak of me having traits trending toward self-preservation.  True, but to a point.  I have been in bad situations, and know from experience that I will throw myself into the jet-blast from an F-18 on the flight deck of a carrier if it means I can stop you from being blown overboard into a 70-100 foot fall to the ocean, so I know I am not all about me.  That being said, I do tend to prepare for the worst while hoping for the best.  I have a "bug-out" bag which is always packed and in my car, I have freeze-dried food, and I possess wilderness survival skills that make me confident that, worst-case scenario, I have a better chance at survival than the average person.  
     I'm sure I sound like a conspiracy nutter.  I do not believe that something horrible is going to happen to decimate the human population.  I merely like the prospect of being prepared and knowledgeable enough to know I will survive.  I suppose this shows that, as the results say, I need to be knowledgeable and independent to be happy, eh?  Among my other "higher" scores is Calmness.  I never realized this was a personality trait; I guess I always thought of it more as a relaxing state of mind, temporary to the occasion.  
     The low score.  Image awareness.  This eludes to me not being concerned with impressing the people I meet or stressing over a first impression.  I don't believe that you can learn much of anything about someone from the "first impression."  The only thing you will accomplish through a first impression is a stereotypical judgment which is rarely 100% accurate.  It amuses me that people might decide they do or do not like me or someone else simply by looking at them.  I will not let you know much about me until I know you; I know it may not be a fair system, but I don't entrust my personal life to everyone I meet.  I don't believe in personality tests much more than I do first impressions.  While answering the questions, how many people will be 100% honest with every answer?  My money is on few to none.  Perhaps it is my skeptical side shining through, but people as a whole (not excluding myself or anyone else I know) have an inherent need to impress.  To make themselves sound better than they are.  I am citing no references for this because it is my opinion, and mine alone.  
     So the questions on the test are answered, in theory, honestly.  Now there is an algorithm that computes your personality traits and issues you with a personality type which is worded in a way which has been determined to be "least offensive" to the typical reader.   Part of my skepticism stems from the fact that I can take multiple tests and 1/3 of the results from similar tests tell me I love being around people while the others say I am a solitude-seeker.  Granted in this case 2/3 were pretty accurate to my personality, from my own point of view, I believe that if you already know how you think (and I suspect you do) then why are you taking these tests in the first place?  Unless, of course, it is for a college level writing class so  you may expunge the information into a blog and find out what your classmates and instructor thought of your documentation.   

Why Must We Hide Trash?

                Why do we choose to make such a visible problem as trash invisible?  Trash stinks.  Trash is ugly.  No one enjoys looking at mounds of garbage out of their kitchen window.  Many species are drawn to the smell and/or texture of garbage.  They view it as a source of food.  Most people, however, do not feel this way.  Anything that disturbs their view of suburbia is an unwanted eyesore.  I am not saying that I revel in the thought of seeing piles of trash everywhere I look, far from it.  What I am saying is it seems as though the human race as a whole will go to great lengths simply to avoid seeing a landfill, even when they know it is there.  “Out of sight, out of mind.”  This seems to be the common theme in regards to undesirable happenings in our culture.  In short, I believe the issue of garbage is made an “invisible” one simply because too many people would complain to their city, county, or state governments if they could see the public landfill that they were contributing to every week out their living room window while they’re watching TV and eating chips from a bag that will be in that landfill in less than a week.

                For every rule however, there is an exception.  Some people do seek out dumpsters and trash cans for anything ranging from food to lawn chairs.  Be it out of necessity or simply in an attempt to stretch a paycheck as far as one can, it seems a fairly common practice in some places. 

                What is it that makes our species so hands-off?  After we haul the garbage to the curb as far as we are concerned it no longer exists.  Thinking like this, however, is the sort of thing that leads to a landfill outside of New York city that can be seen from space.  But the good news is it cannot be seen from the city!  So glad the people generating the trash don’t have to look at it!  What happened to people composting their biodegradable trash?  Recycling things such as cans, bottles, and newspapers?  It seems these things are all but nonexistent of late, and I cannot help but wonder how large (or small) a difference it would have made over the last couple of decades if only a few thousand more people were more resourceful about using or re-using things that they regarded as useless trash. 

                As the article in “The Believer” states, “It’s an avoidance of addressing mortality, ephemerality, the deeper cost of the way we live. We generate as much trash as we do in part because we move at a speed that requires it. I don’t have time to take care of the stuff that surrounds me every day that is disposable, like coffee cups and diapers and tea bags and things that if I slowed down and paid attention to and shepherded, husbanded, nurtured, would last a lot longer. I wouldn’t have to replace them as often as I do. But who has time for that? We keep it cognitively and physically on the edges as much as we possibly can, and when we look at it head-on, it betrays the illusion that everything is clean and fine and humming along without any kind of hidden cost. And that’s just not true.”

                From this I derive that the point that Robin Nagle is trying to make is simple this: We generate more trash than we think.  It doesn’t bother us because we do not look for it.  When we do see it, it takes away our feeling that everything is clean and healthy, and that can be cause for self re-evaluation, something that very few human beings are fond of.  It brings to mind the old adage “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”  If you can’t see the trash, it won’t bother you.

How does Hydrogen act as a fuel?

    I have a problem.  I hate fossil fuels.  Fossil fuels are something I view as a major source of not only pollution, but also of a wide-stretching corruption that plagues our planet.  It is a topic I have spent much time thinking about, and it seems there MUST be a better way.  One way that I find particularly interesting is the idea of Hydrogen being used as a fuel.  After all, the only byproducts created by burning Hydrogen gas are Oxygen and Water Vapor, with a chance of some Nitrogen compounds.  What could be more eco-friendly?  Naturally this is a subject of varying opinions and ideas.  Some say Hydrogen can not be used as a fuel because it requires vast amounts of energy to generate the Hydrogen in the first place.  Others say it is much more viable than others kinds of fuel.  What do I say?  I say it's time to do my own research on the subject!

The Cows Have It! (In my opinion)

   Almond, Rice, or Dairy?  I'm talking about milk, of course.  Some people say one is healthier than another... personally I have always loved good, old fashioned, Whole milk.  All dairy, all the fat.  In recent years, however, I have started trying different types of milk, from Skim to Almond.  I must say I enjoy the taste of nearly all of them, though Skim to me is reminiscent of water that has been colored white.  What is to gain from drinking the watery Skim instead of my thick and creamy Whole milk?  According to the "Wise Geek," Whole milk has approximately 16 times the fat content of Skim (nonfat) milk, yet only a mere 64 calories difference in an 8 oz. glass.  While this is a far cry from "almost the same," I ask you:  Is it worth sacrificing that delicious taste for less saturated fat?  Many will answer this question with a resounding "YES!!!"  I understand, perhaps you want only what is "healthy,"  or perhaps you prefer the diluted taste.  Whatever the case, it is your decision.
    So how does Dairy milk stack up against Rice or Almond milk?  According to this site, Soy or Hemp milk would be relatively "on par" with 2% Dairy milk as far as fat content, caloric value, and protein per serving, while Rice and Almond milk fall short in all of these categories.  Lower fat, fewer calories, with less protein and fewer other vitamins than the other types of milk mentioned.  It seems from a health standpoint, that if you drink milk with 2% milkfat or less, you're getting the same nutritional value as you would were you drinking Soy or Hemp milk.  Unless I'm forgetting something... Ah yes!  Most of the fats from cows milk are saturated fats!  These fats are said to be less beneficial than the unsaturated fats you find in other types of milk. 
    There are many variables to consider in this all-so-important decision in which milk to drink.  Personally, I enjoy the taste of Almond milk nearly as much as that of my Whole dairy milk, but I will stick to whatever tickles my fancy at the time.  Time to get a glass of fat... er, I mean milk!

1st Entry

     So here I am, being the "over-achiever."  More than 24 hours to go before this post is "due," and I'm writing it up anyway.  For those who may not have guessed from the title of this blog, my name is, in fact, Sean.  I am writing this for my WRIT 101 course (and have no qualms about it, for the record).  A bit about me... following high school I joined the Navy.  "See the world" they said.  HA!  I saw plenty of blue, and plenty of brown.  After 6 years, I separated from the service and moved back to Missoula.  Since then I have been trying to figure out just who I was when I left, and who I am now.  I do know this though: I love the outdoors.  Nothing in this world makes me happier than being miles away from "civilization," be it by myself or with a group of friends.  A trip to the hot springs, or disappearing for a several-day hike... it's no matter, it's all wonderful.  I am also a big fan of dogs, my sled team will tell you the same as they grow fat and happy in their "golden years."  I don't much enjoy talking about myself directed to a computer screen, so that may be all you get for now in the "me" category.

     Unless, of course, you consider me discussing my like or dislike of reading!  Sneaky, sneaky, eh?  I must confess I've always been a bit of a book-loving geek.  When I was young, my parents had to tell me to put the book down and go outside to play in the summertime.  I never really had a specific genre I stuck to.  I do remember one book that I truly enjoyed reading, and cannot explain WHY I enjoyed reading it so much.  That book was Shogun, by James Clavell.  I would re-read that book in a heartbeat; and I cannot tell you why.  There really was nothing incredibly special about the story, the descriptiveness in the writing, or even the characters.  I simply loved reading it.  One thing I have learned through the books I've read is this:  Even a "bad" book has its good points.  Perhaps you would never read it a second time, but it's never ALL bad.