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Thursday, October 07, 2004
"DARREL"
Among the awesome stuff my mom got me for my birthday is this gem - a cassette we saw at Goodwill last time I was visiting.
I like how it has quotation marks around "Darrel," as though that is just this simple bus driver's stage name.
At some point, I'll get this made into mp3's so I can distribute it. It's worth hearing, especially his version of Cool Clear Water. Talk about a Geo-Tech classic...
He both looks AND sings a little like Will Farrel...I think..
Notice that production is by the infamous "Moostash Joe."
-m
Among the awesome stuff my mom got me for my birthday is this gem - a cassette we saw at Goodwill last time I was visiting.
I like how it has quotation marks around "Darrel," as though that is just this simple bus driver's stage name.
At some point, I'll get this made into mp3's so I can distribute it. It's worth hearing, especially his version of Cool Clear Water. Talk about a Geo-Tech classic...
He both looks AND sings a little like Will Farrel...I think..
Notice that production is by the infamous "Moostash Joe."
-m
CITY-FOLK..
I started reading A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson. Actually, I'm about 1/4 of the way through it.
He's a pretty good writer. He knows how to write humor, that's for sure. But I almost couldn't stand all the nervous fretting and fear-mongering that makes up the first chunk of the book. Lots of nimby-pimbying about bears and wolves and stuff. Just silly. It's not even like they're grizzly bears. And a fair bit of whining and nancy-boying about a 40 lb. pack. Come on..this guy probably weighs like 250 lbs. A pack that size should feel like a light vest to someone his size. And then the constant skitterishness about "the woods." As if there is some sort of evil haunting the forests of Appalachia. Well, maybe there is, but it's not the wildlife. Compared to "the city," "the woods" feel like a mother's womb to me. I'll take my chances with the bears, over people, anyday.
Of course, I was nervous tramping through the undergrowth in Banff National Park, where we could conceivably run into a grizzly at any time. But 'bear attack' is way low on the list of things I'm nervous about while backpacking. First on the list: a ruptured appendix. Your outlook in surviving a charging grizzly is positively rosy compared with acute appendicitis in the backcountry (that stupid, traitorous, free-loading, superfluous tube!).
Maybe he should have stayed home. You're always hearing about some "experienced hiker" (read: city folk with lots of expensive gear) who decides to hike to the summit of a mountain too late in the year with dark clouds rolling in and then forces other people to risk their lives rescuing them because they can't seem to get their dumb ass back down the mountain because, big surprise, IT'S SNOWING.
I say get rid of search and rescue crews. Wilderness ought to be a place where, when you venture into it, you have no guarantee of leaving in one piece. Otherwise, it's just a big city park. The last thing I want when I'm wandering through the wild is a group of lard-asses in orange jackets on ATV's looking after me. I never contribute to the search and rescue fund when I buy fishing or hunting licenses. The only guarantees I want are my trusty KA-BAR and my own good common sense.
Our "Wilderness Areas" ought to be off limits to any form of motorized transportation, even in the event of an 'emergency,' and you ought to have to sign a waiver before you enter saying that you understand the risks, and that you are responsible for your own sorry ass once you cross the boundary into the wilderness area. People not comfortable with that should stick to the well-groomed concrete trails and pit toilets of the National Park(ing lot) Service.
I realize this may strike some as a hardline stance, but I make no apology for it. People that make the decision to venture into the wild ought to be willing to face up to the risks inherent in so doing.
And if, someday, I'm tramping about in the woods, and a bear charges from out of nowhere, rips the flesh from my face, and leaves me to be picked over by coyotes and buzzards, then understand that I would consider that a dignified death and after-death. Vastly preferable to a slow death - painful months in a hospital bed with IVs in my arms, tubes down my throat and up my pecker, and final entombment in a concrete sepulchre.
What was I posting about?
-m
I started reading A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson. Actually, I'm about 1/4 of the way through it.
He's a pretty good writer. He knows how to write humor, that's for sure. But I almost couldn't stand all the nervous fretting and fear-mongering that makes up the first chunk of the book. Lots of nimby-pimbying about bears and wolves and stuff. Just silly. It's not even like they're grizzly bears. And a fair bit of whining and nancy-boying about a 40 lb. pack. Come on..this guy probably weighs like 250 lbs. A pack that size should feel like a light vest to someone his size. And then the constant skitterishness about "the woods." As if there is some sort of evil haunting the forests of Appalachia. Well, maybe there is, but it's not the wildlife. Compared to "the city," "the woods" feel like a mother's womb to me. I'll take my chances with the bears, over people, anyday.
Of course, I was nervous tramping through the undergrowth in Banff National Park, where we could conceivably run into a grizzly at any time. But 'bear attack' is way low on the list of things I'm nervous about while backpacking. First on the list: a ruptured appendix. Your outlook in surviving a charging grizzly is positively rosy compared with acute appendicitis in the backcountry (that stupid, traitorous, free-loading, superfluous tube!).
Maybe he should have stayed home. You're always hearing about some "experienced hiker" (read: city folk with lots of expensive gear) who decides to hike to the summit of a mountain too late in the year with dark clouds rolling in and then forces other people to risk their lives rescuing them because they can't seem to get their dumb ass back down the mountain because, big surprise, IT'S SNOWING.
I say get rid of search and rescue crews. Wilderness ought to be a place where, when you venture into it, you have no guarantee of leaving in one piece. Otherwise, it's just a big city park. The last thing I want when I'm wandering through the wild is a group of lard-asses in orange jackets on ATV's looking after me. I never contribute to the search and rescue fund when I buy fishing or hunting licenses. The only guarantees I want are my trusty KA-BAR and my own good common sense.
Our "Wilderness Areas" ought to be off limits to any form of motorized transportation, even in the event of an 'emergency,' and you ought to have to sign a waiver before you enter saying that you understand the risks, and that you are responsible for your own sorry ass once you cross the boundary into the wilderness area. People not comfortable with that should stick to the well-groomed concrete trails and pit toilets of the National Park(ing lot) Service.
I realize this may strike some as a hardline stance, but I make no apology for it. People that make the decision to venture into the wild ought to be willing to face up to the risks inherent in so doing.
And if, someday, I'm tramping about in the woods, and a bear charges from out of nowhere, rips the flesh from my face, and leaves me to be picked over by coyotes and buzzards, then understand that I would consider that a dignified death and after-death. Vastly preferable to a slow death - painful months in a hospital bed with IVs in my arms, tubes down my throat and up my pecker, and final entombment in a concrete sepulchre.
What was I posting about?
-m
TOO STRAIGHT..
I took this quiz after seeing G-Had's mention it. I scored a 30%, meaning, I guess, I'm 30% gay:
According to the analysis section, that makes me "too straight." I guess maybe I'm like my grandpa. He describes himself as being "queer for girls."
-m
I took this quiz after seeing G-Had's mention it. I scored a 30%, meaning, I guess, I'm 30% gay:
According to the analysis section, that makes me "too straight." I guess maybe I'm like my grandpa. He describes himself as being "queer for girls."
-m
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
Monday, October 04, 2004
WHO LET THE DOGS OUT...?
It was a dog. Be sure you check out the video - "Watch CCTV footage of Red's 'great escape," on the right.
This dog should hook up with those escape artist bears and put together a stage show.
-m
It was a dog. Be sure you check out the video - "Watch CCTV footage of Red's 'great escape," on the right.
This dog should hook up with those escape artist bears and put together a stage show.
-m
PERTEND EMAILS..
Man, I should write a book about the orgins and histories of all these stupid forwarded emails I always get (almost without fail, from people over 40 years old - I think all your anti-gullibility mechanisms start to fail at age 40). Seriously, if you get forwarded an email that makes you angry, or sad, or inspired, check out Snopes before you forward it on to me. Because the ratio of fake forwards to true forwards is probably something like 36:1. In fact, I think it's important enough that I'ma add a link to Snopes on my sidebar.
Briefly, for the record, nobody is putting AIDS-infected syringes on gas pumps, camel spiders CANNOT run as fast as tanks, nor are they dangerous to humans, and senators DO NOT receive their salaries annually from retirement to death, and they DO pay into social security.
I think I'ma have to recontinue my hobby of composing blatantly fake emails and sending them out so that I can have the sweet reward of chastising the person who is unfortunate enough to forward it back to me someday.
I think there should be such a thing as an Email License, just like we have driver's licenses. Let's face it, 99% of all viruses could prevented by requiring a baseline set of knowledge for email and internet users. Most computer viruses are voluntary (in the same way that Dr. Frucht at NWMSU referred to AIDS as a 'voluntary disease') - you only get them if you're stupid enough to open an attachment without verifying its content.
While we're at it, we could issue Reproduction Licenses, because, let's face it, most of humanity are not qualified to be parents.
-m
Man, I should write a book about the orgins and histories of all these stupid forwarded emails I always get (almost without fail, from people over 40 years old - I think all your anti-gullibility mechanisms start to fail at age 40). Seriously, if you get forwarded an email that makes you angry, or sad, or inspired, check out Snopes before you forward it on to me. Because the ratio of fake forwards to true forwards is probably something like 36:1. In fact, I think it's important enough that I'ma add a link to Snopes on my sidebar.
Briefly, for the record, nobody is putting AIDS-infected syringes on gas pumps, camel spiders CANNOT run as fast as tanks, nor are they dangerous to humans, and senators DO NOT receive their salaries annually from retirement to death, and they DO pay into social security.
I think I'ma have to recontinue my hobby of composing blatantly fake emails and sending them out so that I can have the sweet reward of chastising the person who is unfortunate enough to forward it back to me someday.
I think there should be such a thing as an Email License, just like we have driver's licenses. Let's face it, 99% of all viruses could prevented by requiring a baseline set of knowledge for email and internet users. Most computer viruses are voluntary (in the same way that Dr. Frucht at NWMSU referred to AIDS as a 'voluntary disease') - you only get them if you're stupid enough to open an attachment without verifying its content.
While we're at it, we could issue Reproduction Licenses, because, let's face it, most of humanity are not qualified to be parents.
-m
