"He felt as if high principle and noble precept ought to perform an immediate work. But they do not, for there is always the unknown quantity of individual experience and feeling, which offer a tacit resistance, the amount incalculable by another, to all good counsel and high decree."
"She felt that he did her good, she did not know why or how; but after a talk with him she always fancied that she had got the clue to goodness and peace, whatever befell."
-Elizabeth Gaskell
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Sometime I hate people.
Not as a habit, just when they do really stupid things.
Generally, they're somewhat stupid. But when they do really stupid cowardly things...
That bugs me.
Do you know what you are when you do something without telling the powers that Be because you KNOW they won't approve?
You are a coward.
Worse than a coward.
You're a loathesome despicable coward.
If you're going to do something that you know they won't like, have enough guts to tell them beforehand. You're still stupid, but at least you're not a stupid coward.
Bah.
Why do people do stupid cowardly things.
They do them because they care more about themselves than about the people who care about them.
What a horrible way to live.
And then they try to justify their actions. And they apologize. After they plan the whole thing from the beginning.
Stupid cowards.
I know I'm not immune from this disease of stupidity.
I'm sure I have it in some form.
But I certainly hope I never enter the stupid coward terrority.
I refuse to be a disappoinment to MYSELF.
I'm the one who has to wake up with ME every morning.
Not as a habit, just when they do really stupid things.
Generally, they're somewhat stupid. But when they do really stupid cowardly things...
That bugs me.
Do you know what you are when you do something without telling the powers that Be because you KNOW they won't approve?
You are a coward.
Worse than a coward.
You're a loathesome despicable coward.
If you're going to do something that you know they won't like, have enough guts to tell them beforehand. You're still stupid, but at least you're not a stupid coward.
Bah.
Why do people do stupid cowardly things.
They do them because they care more about themselves than about the people who care about them.
What a horrible way to live.
And then they try to justify their actions. And they apologize. After they plan the whole thing from the beginning.
Stupid cowards.
I know I'm not immune from this disease of stupidity.
I'm sure I have it in some form.
But I certainly hope I never enter the stupid coward terrority.
I refuse to be a disappoinment to MYSELF.
I'm the one who has to wake up with ME every morning.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Exam
Got the Statistics exam back.
Complete devastation, as I imagined it, did not take place.
I'm happy being an average Statistics student.
The even better news is that most of the class stunk royally, so Lohse is giving us 5 problems to do next week which will add to our exam scores.
As the Knutes say, "One could do worse!!"
Complete devastation, as I imagined it, did not take place.
I'm happy being an average Statistics student.
The even better news is that most of the class stunk royally, so Lohse is giving us 5 problems to do next week which will add to our exam scores.
As the Knutes say, "One could do worse!!"
Guy Noir
For anyone who cares...
The James Sewell Ballet Company is doing a Guy Noir ballet at the State Theatre in Minneapolis.
Very cool.
The James Sewell Ballet Company is doing a Guy Noir ballet at the State Theatre in Minneapolis.
Very cool.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Stuff
So!
I'm headed back across the pond next spring.
I'll get a bus to Oxford and meet up with Becca.
We go South to Brighton, Dover and Salisbury then North to the Peak District then farther North into Scotland then back down to London.
Should be splendiferous fun.
I've got a map and everything.
*rubs hands together*
I'm headed back across the pond next spring.
I'll get a bus to Oxford and meet up with Becca.
We go South to Brighton, Dover and Salisbury then North to the Peak District then farther North into Scotland then back down to London.
Should be splendiferous fun.
I've got a map and everything.
*rubs hands together*
Monday, September 05, 2005
I love me some Garrison!
Men fought and died in 1776 so that your children would not be subjected to cricket! We fought so we would be free of those wretched fried tomatoes that the English have for breakfast!
So that we would be free of Corgis, those ugly little rodent-like dogs that are favored by Queen Elizabeth.
The English even wrote a musical about it, it's called Corgi and Bess.
It's a terrible musical, like most English musicals......Andrew Lloyd Webber - the Walmart of musicals!
The only great English musical was written by Americans and that's My Fair Lady, but nevermind!
People think of the English as civilized but that's because they never attended an English soccer match!
Enormous red-faced men bellowing and throwing up on each other...that's what that's about.
When was the last time you had 30 people trampled to death at a baseball game?
So that we would be free of Corgis, those ugly little rodent-like dogs that are favored by Queen Elizabeth.
The English even wrote a musical about it, it's called Corgi and Bess.
It's a terrible musical, like most English musicals......Andrew Lloyd Webber - the Walmart of musicals!
The only great English musical was written by Americans and that's My Fair Lady, but nevermind!
People think of the English as civilized but that's because they never attended an English soccer match!
Enormous red-faced men bellowing and throwing up on each other...that's what that's about.
When was the last time you had 30 people trampled to death at a baseball game?
Sunday, September 04, 2005
I love my iPod.
Muy mucho.
And Jane.
Dear Jane.
*sigh*
There are things in life that we like and then there are things that become a part of us. They're grafted into us. They are as natural as breathing. The thing and us are like the sun and sunlight - you can't have one without the other.
I love Chopin.
Dear bi-polar Chopin.
He sure knew how to crank out a good tune.
I'm forming the opinion that normal (for lack of a better term) people are somewhat uninteresting.
It makes me hope that I'm not normal.
Of course, the space between normal and bi-polar....that's sooooome space we're talking about.
I had some funky dreams this morning.
One of them centered on me being involved in a crime. I'll just say that I was the victim.
Sleeping dreams.
Odd things.
Then there are awake dreams.
Those are sometimes the ones that cause the damage.
It's a sad day when you have a sudden realization that you have dreams that will never BE. Very sad. It isn't as if you previously consciously believed that they truly WOULD happen, but then you realize that they WON'T.
You sit and cry about it and then you sort of lose that part of you that wanted those dreams in the first place.
I look at my cat, asleep in his box, and I admire the pure self-indulgence that he displays.
A dog's perception of people: You feed me, you take care of me - YOU must be god!
A cat's perception of people: You feed me, you take care of me - I must be god!
That's why I like cats. They're so magnificently stuck up.
Is that perverted of me?
Take Lucy from Peanuts, for example.
I love her.
She's such a pain.
BUT - she's a funny pain.
Alas, that doesn't often happen in reality.
I better stop before I start debating the merits of rice farming in Topeka.
Signing off.
*beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep*
Muy mucho.
And Jane.
Dear Jane.
*sigh*
There are things in life that we like and then there are things that become a part of us. They're grafted into us. They are as natural as breathing. The thing and us are like the sun and sunlight - you can't have one without the other.
I love Chopin.
Dear bi-polar Chopin.
He sure knew how to crank out a good tune.
I'm forming the opinion that normal (for lack of a better term) people are somewhat uninteresting.
It makes me hope that I'm not normal.
Of course, the space between normal and bi-polar....that's sooooome space we're talking about.
I had some funky dreams this morning.
One of them centered on me being involved in a crime. I'll just say that I was the victim.
Sleeping dreams.
Odd things.
Then there are awake dreams.
Those are sometimes the ones that cause the damage.
It's a sad day when you have a sudden realization that you have dreams that will never BE. Very sad. It isn't as if you previously consciously believed that they truly WOULD happen, but then you realize that they WON'T.
You sit and cry about it and then you sort of lose that part of you that wanted those dreams in the first place.
I look at my cat, asleep in his box, and I admire the pure self-indulgence that he displays.
A dog's perception of people: You feed me, you take care of me - YOU must be god!
A cat's perception of people: You feed me, you take care of me - I must be god!
That's why I like cats. They're so magnificently stuck up.
Is that perverted of me?
Take Lucy from Peanuts, for example.
I love her.
She's such a pain.
BUT - she's a funny pain.
Alas, that doesn't often happen in reality.
I better stop before I start debating the merits of rice farming in Topeka.
Signing off.
*beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep*
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Good old Hammie
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.
-William Shakespeare
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.
-William Shakespeare
Friday, September 02, 2005
Foolish mortals
As a rule, man is a fool
When it's hot, he wants it cool
When it's cool, he wants it hot
Always wanting what is not
Never wanting what he's got
When it's hot, he wants it cool
When it's cool, he wants it hot
Always wanting what is not
Never wanting what he's got
Friday, August 26, 2005
BAH
Vééérrrroooooooone!!
Vééérrrrooooooooone!!
Vous êtes Véroooooooone!!!!!
Bah.
Blast those blasted Froggies.
They may not know squat about staging, but they sure write some catchy tunes.
:)
Vééérrrrooooooooone!!
Vous êtes Véroooooooone!!!!!
Bah.
Blast those blasted Froggies.
They may not know squat about staging, but they sure write some catchy tunes.
:)
Why Can't The English?
Henry Look at her, a prisoner of the gutter,
Condemned by every syllable she ever uttered.
By law she should be taken out and hung,
For the cold-blooded murder of the English tongue.
Eliza Aaoooww! Henry imitating her Aaoooww!
Heaven's! What a noise!
This is what the British population,
Calls an elementary education. Pickering Oh,
Counsel, I think you picked a poor example. Henry Did I?
Hear them down in Soho square,
Dropping "h's" everywhere.
Speaking English anyway they like.
You sir, did you go to school?
Man Wadaya tike me for, a fool?
Henry No one taught him 'take' instead of 'tike!
Why can't the English teach their children how to speak?
This verbal class distinction, by now,
Should be antique. If you spoke as she does, sir,
Instead of the way you do,
Why, you might be selling flowers, too!
Hear a Yorkshireman, or worse,
Hear a Cornishman converse,
I'd rather hear a choir singing flat.
Chickens cackling in a barn Just like this one!
Eliza Garn! Henry I ask you, sir, what sort of word is that?
It's "Aoooow" and "Garn" that keep her in her place.
Not her wretched clothes and dirty face.
Why can't the English teach their children how to speak?
This verbal class distinction by now should be antique.
If you spoke as she does, sir, Instead of the way you do,
Why, you might be selling flowers, too.
An Englishman's way of speaking absolutely classifies him,
The moment he talks he makes some other
Englishman despise him.
One common language I'm afraid we'll never get.
Oh, why can't the English learn to set
A good example to people whose
English is painful to your ears?
The Scotch and the Irish leave you close to tears.
There even are places where English completely
disappears. In America, they haven't used it for years!
Why can't the English teach their children how to speak?
Norwegians learn Norwegian; the Greeks have taught their
Greek. In France every Frenchman knows
his language fro "A" to "Zed"
The French never care what they do, actually,
as long as they pronounce in properly.
Arabians learn Arabian with the speed of summer lightning.
And Hebrews learn it backwards,
which is absolutely frightening.
But use proper English you're regarded as a freak.
Why can't the English,
Why can't the English learn to speak?
Condemned by every syllable she ever uttered.
By law she should be taken out and hung,
For the cold-blooded murder of the English tongue.
Eliza Aaoooww! Henry imitating her Aaoooww!
Heaven's! What a noise!
This is what the British population,
Calls an elementary education. Pickering Oh,
Counsel, I think you picked a poor example. Henry Did I?
Hear them down in Soho square,
Dropping "h's" everywhere.
Speaking English anyway they like.
You sir, did you go to school?
Man Wadaya tike me for, a fool?
Henry No one taught him 'take' instead of 'tike!
Why can't the English teach their children how to speak?
This verbal class distinction, by now,
Should be antique. If you spoke as she does, sir,
Instead of the way you do,
Why, you might be selling flowers, too!
Hear a Yorkshireman, or worse,
Hear a Cornishman converse,
I'd rather hear a choir singing flat.
Chickens cackling in a barn Just like this one!
Eliza Garn! Henry I ask you, sir, what sort of word is that?
It's "Aoooow" and "Garn" that keep her in her place.
Not her wretched clothes and dirty face.
Why can't the English teach their children how to speak?
This verbal class distinction by now should be antique.
If you spoke as she does, sir, Instead of the way you do,
Why, you might be selling flowers, too.
An Englishman's way of speaking absolutely classifies him,
The moment he talks he makes some other
Englishman despise him.
One common language I'm afraid we'll never get.
Oh, why can't the English learn to set
A good example to people whose
English is painful to your ears?
The Scotch and the Irish leave you close to tears.
There even are places where English completely
disappears. In America, they haven't used it for years!
Why can't the English teach their children how to speak?
Norwegians learn Norwegian; the Greeks have taught their
Greek. In France every Frenchman knows
his language fro "A" to "Zed"
The French never care what they do, actually,
as long as they pronounce in properly.
Arabians learn Arabian with the speed of summer lightning.
And Hebrews learn it backwards,
which is absolutely frightening.
But use proper English you're regarded as a freak.
Why can't the English,
Why can't the English learn to speak?
Thursday, August 04, 2005
I'm alive
Sooooo....
Been busy.
Work.
Stuff.
Ya know.
The Queen and I went to San Francisco yesterday and had a great time.
Went to the Palace of the Legion of Honor and saw my favorite Rembrandt.
Bummed around Golden Gate Park.
FYI - the Japanese Tea Garden is free after 5pm.
The nice man we talked to at the Shakespeare Garden told us who to talk to about holding a wedding there. I have the feeling he thought the two of us were the happy couple. This was shortly after the woman at the gift shop in the museum told us that we reminded her of herself and her WIFE. *sigh*
Anywhoo, we went to the Sunrise Deli and I had a lovely shawarma and some magnificent baklava. Aaaaahhhhh, it was delicious. I want more.
We topped off the day by walking the double G.
It was a little chilly, but not too terrible.
It's so fun to be in a city and see all kinds of people and hear all kinds of languages. San Francisco is a nifty place.
Been busy.
Work.
Stuff.
Ya know.
The Queen and I went to San Francisco yesterday and had a great time.
Went to the Palace of the Legion of Honor and saw my favorite Rembrandt.
Bummed around Golden Gate Park.
FYI - the Japanese Tea Garden is free after 5pm.
The nice man we talked to at the Shakespeare Garden told us who to talk to about holding a wedding there. I have the feeling he thought the two of us were the happy couple. This was shortly after the woman at the gift shop in the museum told us that we reminded her of herself and her WIFE. *sigh*
Anywhoo, we went to the Sunrise Deli and I had a lovely shawarma and some magnificent baklava. Aaaaahhhhh, it was delicious. I want more.
We topped off the day by walking the double G.
It was a little chilly, but not too terrible.
It's so fun to be in a city and see all kinds of people and hear all kinds of languages. San Francisco is a nifty place.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Alright...
Have to do something terribly girly, so you've been warned -
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I LOVE YOU, JASON CRABB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Okay.
I feel better.
:)
Of course, the above comment refers to the musical sense of the phrase.
Yep.
He's so special, he has Ringtone status.
Ooooohhhhhh.
Very special, indeed.
And I'm sure his WIFE would agree with me.
*sigh*
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I LOVE YOU, JASON CRABB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Okay.
I feel better.
:)
Of course, the above comment refers to the musical sense of the phrase.
Yep.
He's so special, he has Ringtone status.
Ooooohhhhhh.
Very special, indeed.
And I'm sure his WIFE would agree with me.
*sigh*
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Bob
So, Bob and I are getting along splendidly.
He definitely keeps me entertained.
He has all the right music and Solitaire.
He doesn't talk back or disagree with me about anything.
I can turn him off whenever I want.
Too bad he's just an electronic.
He definitely keeps me entertained.
He has all the right music and Solitaire.
He doesn't talk back or disagree with me about anything.
I can turn him off whenever I want.
Too bad he's just an electronic.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)