Behemoth: ß-Max, by Peter Watts. I hesitate to write about this novel just yet, as it's really quite literally only half of a novel, because of publishing snags. Anyway, in short, it's got the character-driven and setting-based feel of the first book in the trilogy, Starfish, with the energy and activity of the second novel, Maelstrom. Not as much hard sci-fi as the latter, though, but the characters and plot generally make up for that. Anyway, more to say when I finish the second half - and then on to SoS, I promise, Connie!

Clockwork Thugs, Yo (Livewires, Vol. 1), by Adam Warren. First, I'll just list the names of the characters: Stemcell, Hollowpoint Ninja, Gothic Lolita, Cornfed, and Social Butterfly. That and the title are kind of an indication of the sassy, self-aware, and ironic humor of the writing (SOP for Warren, one of my favoritest authors). The other thing that's well utilized from his repetoire is the profusion of science-fiction ideas that are spread throughout the story, and that are just plain interesting. It's funny to feel real empathy for characters which are essentially emotionless, which especially ties into the pretty disturbing ending. Good stuff! Though unfortunately the TBP comes in digest form (ie, shrunken), sadly for the trademark Dirty Pair-esque art.

Word of the Dizzay! Haven't done that in forever:
concinnity \kuhn-SIN-uh-tee\, noun:
1. Internal harmony or fitness in the adaptation of parts to a whole or to each other.
2. Studied elegance of design or arrangement -- used chiefly of literary style.
3. An instance of concinnity

Reading about the basis for that movie I'm so excited about, I came across this fun little tidbit: "On the first day of the siege, when Xerxes demanded the Greeks surrender their arms, Leonidas is said to have replied Μολών Λαβέ ('Come and get them')."

Chess Boxing - can't decide whether it's stupid, or interesting

an interesting definition in terms of the idea I'd previously brought up, and that's explored in Peter Watts' novels -
"A psychopath is defined as having no concern for the feelings of others and a complete disregard for any sense of social obligation. They seem egocentric and lack insight and any sense of responsibility or consequence. Their emotions are thought to be superficial and shallow, if they exist at all. They are considered callous, manipulative, and incapable of forming lasting relationships, let alone of any kind of love. It is thought that any emotions which the true psychopath exhibits are the fruits of watching and mimicking other people's emotions. They show poor impulse control and a low tolerance for frustration and aggression. They have no empathy, remorse, anxiety or guilt in relation to their behavior. In short, they truly are devoid of conscience."

Bed of Roses, with Christian Slater and Mary Stuart Masterson. And a cute supporting actress that apparently does the voice of Bobby on King of the Hill? How funny. And ah ha! I was right, Gina Torres from Firefly! Anyway. I think this story could have easily dropped into "trite," but skirted the edge of taking itself too seriously with a few well-placed aware-of-irony lines, and some nice acting. Just a nice romance, quite pleasant.

I don't understand the advertising logic (I thought Li had done his "last movie") but Mr Scott found this amazing little hint of a thing: Jet Li plus Jason Statham equals aweso. I'm almost gibbering, internally, between this and 300.

Things of Note, from the End of the Week:
-wow, Scorsese films are long; not that I didn't already realize that, but it's funny to go into a movie theatre one day, and emerge from it the next day
-for the first time in years, I brought "homework" back upon myself: thank you Mr Jeff, and your kicking drills that are oh so pleasant to do
-there's a Mongolian barbecue on Campbell, now (ie, within walking distance of Adelaide): aweso!
-any band that sings about drinking and Irish girls, and ends with "Turtle Power!" is pretty rocking
-yes, an Aussie can have Matrix-like agility that surpasses a mountain goat, but it doesn't prevent me from wanting to clap hands over my eyes when she bounds playfully along the edge of cliffs that overlook spiky tree-tops
-shelties jumping = cutest thing ever; it's like an old-school Mario Bros game come to life (boing!)
-apparently, slightly upscale sushi places sometimes hire stippers to be their hostess; that, or the poor gal just really, really needed to do her laundry and only had a single clean nightie (and I'll admit, on some levels we really weren't complaining at all)

Aw man, there was a weather alert this morning for a storm system just outside of Tucson, I feel bad for the people who probably woke up into it. I mean, I'm sure "nickel-sized hail" and "continuous cloud-to-ground lightning" are cool and all, but when the emergency alert is telling you to get the hell inside, now, that's a bit ominous.

Emotions in Motion - interesting article on emotions and body-memory

The Departed, with Matt Damon (say it Team America style), that guy from Titanic, one of the Sheen's, Marky Mark, a very eeevil Nicholson, and one of the Baldwin's. I knew this was a re-make of a Hong Kong flick that I'd wanted to see, even before I heard that on the radio! I had just never gotten around to seeing it (aw, man, and it has Andy Lau in it and everything...). Anyway, for as much as it's a re-make, as everyone seems to be saying I'm sure Departed will be in contention for all sorts of awards; it was a bit long and convoluted, but you know what, we only realized that in retrospect, as during the movie we were pretty well focused and attentive. So, definitely worth seeing, in the end. And Marky Mark - you make the bestest asshole ever.

"It's funny because it's true" - from Mr. Phil

For people in Tucson, No on 202

I liked this, especially with the amazing weather Tucson's been having-
"One way to understand the distinction between concentration and meditation is by using rain as an analogy. When rain starts, the moisture of clouds and fog (everyday awareness) coalesces into concentrated moisture and becomes distinct raindrops. These raindrops represent dharana—intermittent moments of focused attention. When the rain falls to earth and creates a river, the merging of the individual raindrops into one stream is like dhyana or meditation. The separate raindrops merge into one continuous flow, just as individual moments of dharana merge into the uninterrupted focus of meditation."

In re-finishing up the amazing novel Maelstrom, by Peter Watts, I ran across an interesting idea contained within basically a sentence. Which is really par for the course with Watts, with huge chunks of story suddenly going from ambiguous to goosebump-inducing clarity with a single phrase or even word.

"Conscience is overrated anyway," Jovellanos said all around them.
"Give it a rest, Alice," Desjardins said, rubbing his wrists.
"I'm serious. Think about it: not everyone even has a conscience, and the people that do are invariably exploited by the ones that don't. Conscience is--irrational, when you get right down to it."

What I’m most interested in is the second posit Alice Jovellanos brings up, that perhaps not everyone has a conscience (and I’m sure that’s not a black and white, conscience or no conscience thing). I guess, just looking back, I remember people I’ve known or know, or met at the hospital, hell, that I’ve been intimate with, that were as honestly baffled by my expression of being troubled by my conscience as I was baffled by their inability to understand the concepts within the family of guilt/remorse/having a conscience.

I guess it just makes me question my assumption of yore that our inability to come to terms on that aspect of self was simply miscommunication – maybe, instead, it really is something like the novel describes on other pages, that they’re just not as physically (in the brain structure/chemistry sense) able to have a conscience. Which brings up the questions, is it rather that it’s rather flipflopped, and having a conscience is more like having a handicap? And if true, would it really be that much of a ‘nature’ thing – how much would ‘nurture’ play into it?

I have to say, I'm already very enamored of 300. One, it's based off an epic graphic novel. That's got me going to it already. Two, it's by Frank Miller, which means stylized in my mind, and if you know me, you know that's what I like. Three, it's about Sparta and Persia, one of my favorite historical periods. Four, it looks awesome.

Randoms.

What a strange, odd night. Besides the initial, somewhat flustering and blink-inducing news, class went fine...except for all of us being physically messed up. Kevin gets props for being hardcore in the final grappling rounds, though his body handed him a nice adrenal dump afterwards. Michael gets props for learning what happens when the aggresion of Western wrestling runs into the yielding of jujitsu, though his shoulder is probably going to be swollen after he set himself up for a beautifully executed pile-drive right onto it. Hugh gets props for climbing nearly every day this week, and pushing himself to the point of killing both his biceps anyway. And I messed up my shoulder, again, pretty much leaving my right arm annoyingly useless, and I'm so ashamedly out of shape I've got sore spots on my torso an knots in my posterior hips (ok seriously this time, who wants to rub my butt?). Then we get home, and Ms Kim shows us how a 65 pound dog went loco at work at pretty much mangled her poor legs; I've not seen such big bruises with so many colors since the hospital. So props to her for still being relatively polite to the client in the middle of all that.

An anti-ode to bullthorns. Note my restraining myself from any sort of profanity or expletives. I'm not sure what they're actually called, but that's what Ms Xuemei called them many years ago, and it's stuck and propagated ever since. These little seeds are basically nature's caltrop, pointy in a blunt way no matter how they're oriented. The plant they spawn from is a weed that sticks completely flat to the ground in a viney form, clinging tenaciously even after herbicide has long killed it. I'm not sure which is worse, the seeds' tendency to stick to footwear, and then ambush bare feet later on in the house, or walking outside with bare feet and planting both soles into the center of a plant (which inevitably has a wide diameter, so stepping back off of it means stepping on even more bullthorns). So here's a big honking middle finger to you, Mr Plant.

Three, I don't know why I thought of this, but some self-exposition on the name I use for the blog, Jinn, in terms of what it's referencing, in different senses. One, djinn from Islamic folklore. Two, the word "jin" in its various definitions in Japanese. And three, that definition of "jin" contrasted with its use as a term in bonsai.

Interesting time-based map

For some odd reason in browsing through articles at lunch I ran across some profiles of serial killers. Oh! It was when I was reading a synopsis of Silence of the Lambs, and then got sidetracked by being intrigued in those other articles for a similar reason - humanity at an extreme of some aspect of itself. Anyway, for one, what those serial killers did was actually a good deal more disturbing and scary than any horror movie synopsis I've read, which I didn't really expect for some reason. But the part I was really interested in was more one step back from the murderers in question - the mothers.

Consistently, each of the killers I happened to read about had a domineering mother that would psychologically and emotionally abuse them, and in a less striking sense, a similarly abused or just plain absent father. So, one thing I would like to understand better is what connection is there between that parent-child relationship and the subsequent actions of the child - say, why would one killer feel an urge to pretend to be his mother (a la Hitchcock's Psycho, but in a much, much more disturbing way)? The thing I'm actually more interested in, though, is to take another step "back," and see what drove the mothers to their particular dysfunctions, as that seems like it's been ignored in conventional thought upon the matter.

Things of note from the weekend! Rocktober edition.
-a Jackson Pollack party! all kinds of fun, and messy; next up - a Jackson Pollack bra-painting party!
-a tasty drink, known colloquially as "the Costa Rican drink," is composed of sugar cane rum, sugar, and limes...it does smell a bit like rubbing alcohol, though
-combining various drugs and alcohol apparently may make one bark at people, and/or play awesome blues/metal guitar
-a new refridgerator = cool (ha, no pun intended); having said frigidaire be a quarter-inch too big = exasperating....thus: break out the power tools
-we can actually see the back porch for the first time in months - thank you, Ms Kim!
-best we can figure, some concrete dust from the new Alvernon bridge thingie must have gotten down into the Rilito; we couldn't explain the abnormally thick and oddly peeling "tiles" that we found in the dessicated parts of the riverbed any other way

Swiri, with a few Korean actors I actually recognized, randomly. I didn't see the end, nor the beginning, but wow the middle was pretty exciting. So, I won't write much about it, except to say there's a moment where even not really knowing what's going on you'll be saying, "Ohhh, no way, that is stone-cold not cool."

Like, whoa.

Update! I didn't beep going through the doors at Target last night! Hoorah!
Damn conspiracy chippy thing.
Though I maintain, I'm willing to take all takers who want to rub my butt and look for something hard.

Silent Hill, with Radha Mitchell and Laurie Holden. Mmm...not really a horror movie. More a conceptually scary movie, but not a particularly disturbing one, either. Interesting, at least. But not interesting in the watching per se - rather, in doing a close reading of the imagery and symbolism, instead. Better than most video game movies; but something is lost in the lack of interacting, that made the game so famous. So. Um. Kind of a neutral opinion in the end, I guess.

A funny thing - that someone I know so well now, and that I've known for years (but only as an acquaintance), might be someone I "met" double those years ago. We both went to the same town in Delaware nigh every summer, to the same boardwalk, to the same amusement park when we were much younger. So I'm sure we must have at least seen each other somewhere, in passing. On top of that, we both have memories of throwing imaginary "grenades" and shooting imaginary guns at people across the ubiquitous viking ship ride, though admittedly I need to check with my cousins and brother, as my memories are less clear and might be manufactured. But still. It's a small world, after all.

Oof...goosebumps. So I'm re-reading Peter Watts' Maelstrom, and ***SPOILER*** (though it won't make any sense if you haven't read it anyway) recalling the interesting thing that happens when the Lenie Clarke meme starts to take on a (semi)sentient existence and at the same time parallels the William Gibson concept of the critical mass of celebrity, and consequently ravages the eponymous Maelstrom. So in this interesting article there's a pretty direct real-life parallel, of something taking on a 'life' of its own on the interwebnet, with an accompanying 'face' along with it and everything! Eerie.

Whoa...honestly, this little bug kind of freaks me out a little. Trickery! I suppose it is a good example of convergent evolution, though.

I've been intrigued by chess and chess-variants of late - Baroque is one I think particularly interesting, especially in its own variants at the bottom of the page (like the very divergent Renaissance, for example)

-for the first time ever on y.t., song lyrics (by Michael Franti, heard 'em this morning, doesn't do the song justice to read it, though...)-

About All The Freaky People Make the Beauty of the World

Starvation is a creation of the devil
a rebel
I\'m bringin\' food to the people like a widow
bringin\' flowers to a grave in the middle
of the city isolation is a riddle
to be surrounded by a million other people
but feel alone like a tree in the desert
dried up like the skin of a lizard
but full of color like the spots of a leopard
drum and bass pull me in like a sheperd
scratch my itch like a needle on a record
full of life like a man gone to Mecca
sky high like an eagle up soaring
I speak low but I\'m like a lion roaring
baritone like a Robeson recordin\'
I\'m giving thanks for bein\' human every morning...

Because the streets are alive with the sound of Boom! Bap!
can I hear it once again!
Boom! Bap! Tell your neighbor tell a friend
every box gotta right to be boomin\'
because the streets are alive with the sound of Boom! Bap!
can I hear it once again!
Boom! Bap! Tell your neighbor tell a friend
every flower got a right to be bloomin\'!
Stay Human!

For a while, every time I've gone into either Target or Walgreens, the damn shoplifting-sensor things beep (and on the way out as well, natch). While that might have been an amusingly easy way to shoplift were I so inclined, as the clerks just invariably pass me through, if they even notice, it was also just plain annoying. I tried not going in with my cell phone, or keys, or whatever - still beeped. So last night the clerk asked me a seemingly random question - "Do you have any sort of chip on you?" I blinked, as I didn't have my cell phone on me, or anything really.

But while I'm getting lunch today, I look in an my wallet on a whim, and find...well, a chip. A one inch square adhesive pink and metallic chip thingie. I have no recollection of that going into my wallet, nor clue as to what it is. Besides being freaked out a little, I'm kind of curious to see whether I beep again next time I peruse one of those stores of convenience. Also to look up those guys from X-Files, I forget what they were called, the ones that helped Mulder all the time.

You know, I never understood nor liked the idea of all those hidden dimensions in string theory, anyway. As much as I liked the violin string vibrating to create a note being analagous to a string vibrating to create matter, that was kind of poetic.

Stanslov Petrov was a quiet kind of hero a little over twenty years ago

I just read about the idea of a 'sound signature.' That is, in any given place one might find oneself, the ambient noise will give it a sort of signature; for example, in this little office there's an air conditioner, the sounds of packing machines outside (and the packers making asses of themselves), an occasional PA call (with the receptionist being cute/dorky occasionally), and Lisa cursing in Mexican. Anyway, what I found interesting about this idea is in realizing how much we unconsciously ignore or just stop hearing of that sound signature on a moment to moment basis - for all that the sounds are a constant, one has to consciously stop and listen for them to actually hear most of them. And that in turn bears on concepts of mindfulness and clarity of perception, which in turn bears on the idea that our thoughts (something completely ephemeral and not-physical) can be so "loud" that it drowns out ambient noise (also ephemeral and intangible, but quite physical). Hmmm.

Din-i-Illahi, or Divine Faith, is something I think would be awesome were it applied to modern Christianity and Islam.

Yet more community integration - I love this stuff!
-tangentially, I'll admit, I'm intrigued...as much as I'm also kind of grossed out...

In other news, it turns out (in retrospect) I missed my chance with a hot thirty-something doctor. But, it worked out much, much better the way it did, I'd say. So, no "alas..." there.

Things of Note! From the weekend!
-having a relative be a manager of a Metro restaurant is pretty awesome (yay kin of Kim!); but beware, the resulting free extra appetizers and beer (Hawai'ian - flowery!) might make it so you can only get a few bites of your actual dinner down
-getting hit on the back of your head (hello mr. occipital lobe) can actually make your vision black out for a split second (not good when driving down the highway), now I really believe those stories about boxers being blinded by rabbit punches
-everyone was injured in some way in kickboxing on Saturday. what the hell.
-chicken with pricklypear nectar and cloves is interesting and spicy and odd
-next to the salsa dancing floor, there was a big, dark man with lots of amulets and pendants on, just sitting their drinking and watching...I had the impression he was some sort of salsa mafia don, or Columbian drug lord, or maybe just some large guy drinking and my imagination got away from me
-be careful when hamming it up on the dance floor; apparently you might get into a dance-off and not even realize it
-somehow, someway, the comic book guy from the Simpsons was in Phoenix this weekend...alas, we did not ask him exactly which state Springfield is in
-why is that a thirteen year old dressed up as a Catholic schoolgirl is unwholesome, while a nubile-in-a-different-sense woman in the same get-up is more acceptable?
-at every chance I get from now on, I'm going to get a sketch from a professional artist...quality, original art, for a relative minimum of money, hell yeah

Brokeback Mountain, with Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal. The landscapes were sure purdy. Nonetheless, I was sure disappointed in the rest of the movie. While the acting and cinemtography were of course quality, I thought the narrative meandered too much, and I often like meandering movies. I suppose, to me, in a movie I thought should have been based upon character development, I didn't really think there was that much, or it it was there, it was on some wavelength I didn't pick up on. Also, I was kind of disappointed in the lovemaking between the men, for as controversial as I thought it was supposed to be, that was a let-down.

random poem I ran across, by my favorite Sufi poet:
There is a way between voice and presence where information flows.
In disciplined silence it opens.
With wandering talk it closes.
- Rumi

Faith & Fire, by James Swallow. Woo! Action-packed. Man, I've been reading too much beer+pretzel scifi lately. But hey, it's fun. Isn't it funny that the word "man" can be used as a very minor epithet like that? But that's a tangent. Anyway, kudos to Swallow for pulling off characters which would generally be shallow zealots have some amount of depth to them. Not quite an Abnett novel (though similar in style at times), but way better than most 40k stories, I'll give it that much. I think the main phrase for the best parts of it is 'over the top' - for example,

"Any bones broken?" ventured Verity. Her face was dim in the gloom. "Are you in pain?"

"Constantly," frowned the Battle Sister. "My trigger finger aches from lack of use."

The L Word, Season 1. Much thanks to Ms. Nicole for the lending! Having seen only most of the third season prior to watching the first, it's interesting to note how well put together the writers' character development is, in details that are subtle and yet sustained across that gulf of time. And though there are the usual first-season foibles and slight awkwardness at times (re: Farscape as an example), I enjoyed watching how the patterns of approacing LGBT, gender, and other issues was established, and for another example of an interesting aspect of the show, how confluences are built up to (re: Dana's cancer versus Moira/Max's transitioning in the third season, versus Jenny's Most Awkward Moment Ever in the first season's finale). But at the moment I kind of loathe Jenny anyway, so there.

In one of my random tangents of wondering, I was reading a bit about what made the Romans so successful as a militant power. Then, having been an English major in a past life, I started making connections, as I am wont to do, in this case to how the principles in question might be applied to my training. So, excising the main point of each section:

“The Romans were able to copy and adapt the weapons and methods of its opponents more effectively.” --- That fits the ‘cross-training’ of mixed martial arts, and one of Bruce Lee’s quintessential axioms to take techniques and principles from any source and ‘make them yours;’ in a broader sense, the shifts back and forth in dominance between strikers and grapplers in MMA over the years as each adopted the others’ tactics

“Roman organization was more flexible than those of many opponents.” --- Here, I’m reminded of one of the focuses of the east-side school, ‘transitional flow,’ which covers everything from transitioning between techniques (say, between different types of the same lock, strike, or pin), to transitioning between ranges (usefulness of the karate, aikido, jujitsu combination).

“Roman discipline, organization and logistical systemization sustained combat effectiveness over a longer period.” --- Conditioning, as my dad drills into us! But not just physical conditioning, but mental and emotional as well, as I’ve learned from the harder contact training we’ve done, which is needed when conscious thought flies out the window, so ingrained muscle memory and the unconscious can take over tactical decisions.

“The Romans were more persistent and more willing to absorb and replace losses over time than their opponents.” --- From the principles and concepts brought back from Thailand of late, and yogic parallels, tenacity – consciously choosing how to respond to pain and fatigue, and compartmentalizing as needed; beyond that, in a more simplistic sense, being able to take hits or give up position for later advantage. The counter to this, however, is that against an equal opponent in this regard (Rome versus Carthage or Parthia, for example), this principle is effectively negated.

“Roman leadership was mixed, but over time it was often effective in securing Roman military success.” --- To me, this (analogously, the Senate overwatch’ing the military, in their prime) would mean integrating of some of the other principles – that is, say, one might train in jujitsu and karate, but if they can’t be integrated to cover each others’ weaknesses, the ‘mixed wires’ will be more hindering than not, and slow down decision making, conscious or unconscious.

Ms. Kim’s Corollary: The Romans were successful because they had really huge mastiffs.

Here's to my mom! She had tossed over a magazine that had been given to her, Travel and Leisure or somesuch, and I asked her if she wanted to travel. She replied, no, and instead of just saying she was fine as is, she looked out the glass sliding door to the backyard, which faces east. She said each morning she goes out with the dog, and it's silent, and described the sunrises in concisely poetic language, which I won't try to repeat so as not to sully it with inaccuracy. And that's how my mom answered that no, not at the moment was she interested in travelling. It seemed a particularly enlightened, understanding-of-contentment response, if I haven't made that clear enough already.

So, turning a bit introspective, I had an odd realization, then tried to turn objective upon it. I think I act as an intermediary a lot. At work I run back and forth between the front office and the warehouse (and its component departments), and am of both, and yet neither, in everything from dress to attitude to job description. In a similar state of things, I'm the only person to regularly go between both dojos of our school, and act as a messenger and conveyer of information, with a similar of both/neither status in some ways. And even in general social situations, I've never been and am not really part of any consistent 'circle of friends' or what, but rather drift in and out of them, and in turn connect them by bringing friends from one to another.

Anyway, maybe I should try to find a job that reflects such. What would that be, diplomacy? No, that's not quite right...hmm....

A very random thought. In one part based on the posit that orgasm is a moment of complete union with the self, that is, analagous in a way to a moment of samadhi, if one is so inclined to look up the Sanskrit. In a second part, based on how one taking anti-depressants might find it difficult to achieve orgasm. So I'm conjecturing that while the anti-depressant medication may treat the symptoms and even the physical cause, perhaps (besides or on top of just hindering it in some physical way) the medication also acts as a handicap to or diversion from the psychological and emotional side of things, and may hinder that 'union' in its own way. Or, looking back at all that, maybe I'm just talking out of my ass.

If you know me, you know I'd get a kick out of this-
"BEIJING (Reuters) -- More than 240 army dental experts from 25 countries are meeting in northern China to brush up on cavities of war and weapons of mass infection at the 2006 World Military Dental Congress." - that, and the headline was "World army dentists build bridges" - ha!

If I ever end up having me a daughter, I'm going to make sure to learn her some history - specifically, about bad-ass women. Now, I have to note, as much as the title of that implies soldiering, many of those were more strong and intelligent in terms of politics or familial matters or just strength of character, which I'm really more concerned with.

So while I'm having fun with neologisms, I might as well extend that into my own personal jargon, and make up the term 'world dream.' That is, every once in a while, under certain circumstances - falling asleep with the lights on in my face, in my jeans, with no AC on, dehydrated, sunburned, and in an odd position, as in last night, as a general example - I'll have a particular kind of dream. I'm calling it a 'world dream' because it has this quality wherein it seems to exist in a setting that is independent of me. I'll wake up and fall asleep several times over the course of a night, and just keep returning to the same, surreal 'world.' Now, in this particular kind of dream, it really does feel like a setting in some story, with its own rules, and culture, and sense of 'place.' Kind of interesting, but mostly unpleasant in the end because of the discomfort of the things that bring up that kind of protracted, multi-falling asleep/waking up kind of dreaming.

Random quote of the day! [I'm italicizing the part I particularly found interesting]
"The contents of the mental stream are not as important as the consciousness that knows them. The mind softens in meditation through the assumption of a particular mental posture called 'bare attention,' in which impartial, nonjudgmental awareness is trained on whatever there is to observe. Problems are not distinguished from solutions; the mind learns how to be with ambiguity."

Guest post from Ms. Connie, in reference to Farscape, for anyone who might appreciate it!
"Rygel's like the saddest character ever. They make him like a cartoon, but he's actually really really sad. I mean, it's the deposed King thing times 20. Because he was both hot and powerful in Hyneria, and he's little and ugly and disgusting on the ship. The crew members treat him kind of like a bad pet...and he responds by acting that way a lot of the time. But it's always ok to insult him, to manhandle him, and to say things to him that they'd never dream of saying to--oh, Chiana--who's like him in nearly every way except her exterior. He's been on the ship the longest, but no one really mentions that. Granted, he's kind of a coward and a wimp, but there's also no one on the ship who would back him up. Everyone else gets love interests, and he doesn't (though granted a muppet love scene would have been odd) Anyway, I feel bad for the little guy. He just wants to be like Zhaan paints him...like a king."

-interesting quote from novel I'm reading:
"She watched the machine-slaves drift to and fro, and observed the way the women edited their servants from their world: they never looked directly at them, never spoke to them. They ignored their very existence, and yet depended entirely upon it."
I think the use of the word 'edit' within that is particularly interesting in regards to the idea of 'stories that we tell ourselves,' as in either the yoga idea of such or in a de Lintian sense (I'm making up a word, damnit, nothing you can do about it!), though I think Ms. Connie could explain the pracitical idea of it best, if you're interested.

-article on intuition/gut instinct

things of note addendum! (it was a dense weekend):
-there are lots of pretty animals at a dog show....and lots of funny looking people, apparently
-always, and I mean always, take the most pictures of your girlfriend's mom's dog, even if he's not being shown...on pain of...uh...well, not hearing the end of it, heh
-a burger made with red wine is okay; I wouldn't say spectacular, or even that different than a regular burger, though
-for the love of whatever gods, when outside for an entire weekend wear sunscreen...no, Scott, not like how our track coach used to say it, thank you...ew
-in Phoenix one can get a sub that is basically a Thanksgiving dinner in sammich-form, though the franchise in question apparently started in Delaware, I hear

woo Zen mondo!
"A monk asked T'ou-tzu: 'All sounds are the sounds of Buddha, right?'
'Right,' said T'ou-tzu.
The monk then said: 'Then master, doesn't your bottom make farting sounds?'
T'ou-tzu hit him. But, undaunted, the monk continued, 'Whether talk is coarse or subtle, all returns to the primary meaning, right or wrong?'
'Right,' T'ou-tzu said.
The monk said: 'Then can I call you a donkey?'
T'ou-tzu hit him again."

things of note on the (dog show) weekend!
-when getting into Prescott late at night, make sure you see the sign...and don't drive all the way to Flagstaff. In other news, Natalie the Eclipse apparently has great highway mileage, Tucson to Flagstaff to Prescott with gas to spare
-funny how a baseball diamond in the middle of nowhere can develop its own little ecosystem, complete with ginormous grasshoppers (I kind of wanted to fry one up) and that same green spider I still don't know a name for
-dogs can come in 'small horse' size - it occured to me that if an Irish wolfhound wanted to casually bite my heart out of my chest, it wouldn't have to jump up, but probably rather bend down
-I didn't really believe it, but yeah I can see sharpei as fighters, what with the wrinkles and the overly pugnacious-bastard 'tudes
-Kim's mom wins for most-violentest-threats-ever - which seem to somehow be augmented by her nice English accent
-where else could you hear, "Work that bitch!" said with a completely straight face, and also have it be completely appropriate?
-vaguely tangentially, I've not seen so much adroitness at going so quickly from polite and even enthusiastic encouragement and sportsmanship to hissed backbiting and trashtalking and back as soon as a person in question is back in earshot
-Prescott to me is an odd combination of Colorado Springs, Fairbanks, and Anchorage

Double Eagle, by Dan Abnett. Well, it's a novel, by Abnett, so I really don't have to say more, but I will. As usual, the 40k setting is used to its fullest - utilizing the shared setting as well as adding plenty of original thought, as well it should be used. I'll note the interesting use of Herbert-style perspective shifts, which only a skilled author can really pull off (ie, even within mid-sentence at times). This is one of his novels, is another thing I should note, wherein it's more of an epic (with multiple, connected plotlines/characters) than one of his more closely focused novels. And his aerial combat scenes are just as cinematic and exciting as his more traditional action. Gush, gush, etc. Beer and pretzel scifi with lovely characters and a fast, engaging plot.

"The hardest part is cleaning the fur out of the damn rotor blades." Huh. Apparently, Phil says it's real.

Eris will be the tenth planet, eh? Hmph. Well, I suppose it'll offer more fun for hard science fiction authors (say, like in Ian McDonald's Terminal Cafe or the latter part of Kim Stanley Robinson's Mars trilogy, or several of David Brin's short stories, or that one semi-famous book Bloom, eh, I could go on), and I suppose its moon does have a pretty cool sounding name.

So, watching how apparent it is that dogs react to body language and tonal things, it gets me thinking. Esoterically, in Frank Herbert's Dune novels (yes, I will keep returning to those, I did my bloody thesis on the first one) there's the idea of 'Voice,' wherein through creating a certain tonal effect in one's voice, one would be able to address another person's subconscious, as opposed to their conscious - so, in effect, insta-hypnosis of sorts. The only way one would be able to confront such a thing would be to have enough introspective knowledge and self-awareness, and the discipline necessary for such, to be comfortable with one's own unconscious - meaning that the average person, who has no care for such a practice, would be horribly susceptible to Voice.

Anyway, so I begin to wonder how much people are affected by body language and tone, without realizing it (and whether being comfortable with or having trained one's unconscious can affect that). The only practical example I can think of was from that women's self-defense workshop we just put on - it really is almost unnerving to realize that if one backs up and just assertively puts their hands up and out, palms forward, it can totally defuse another person's aggresion/dominance (and be a nice offensive position to boot, but that's besides the point). Whereas if one stands their ground and brings fists up, the natural reaction is to think 'ohhh, that's it' and the fight's on.

Or, the standard quintessential aikido principal - yeah, if you slam a strike at someone's face, they're going to react, even if just by flinching. But if you casually drift a hand up, as if you were say going to brush a fly away, nine times out of ten the other person won't react, even when you lay your hand on them. Try it, it's funny!

I don't even remember how I came across it, but this article on the Indo-Greeks actually almost gave me goosebumps. I just had no idea that such a culture existed, or that it could have even existed. I mean it makes sense knowing that Alexander the Great invaded India and such, but who'd have thought something like Greco-Buddhism might have existed? I wonder in turn why this isn't brought up in more historical texts. Hell, if I were in charge it would be, it seems a kind of community integration like I was speaking of before, but on a grand scale.

I don't know why I thought I'd be able to, but I tried to physically outwit an Australian shepherd. My first clue that it wasn't going to go well should have been the fact that she could traverse the width of the dog park like a furry little meteor on speed. But hey, I thought, I can out-juke her, I have a bigger brain, right? Ha, no. Any spin or fake-out or fancy footwork I managed to accomplish left me face to face with her, or her quite literally dancing in circles around me, or ready to trip me at will, to the point where I actually managed to bore her, I think. I'm sure it was quite hilarious from an outside perspective, though, as Ms. Kim can probably attest. I guess if I ever get in a fight with that kind of dog I know not to rely on agility - that would be a reliance-upon-power-and-opposable-thumbs encounter all the way. Just need to grab the bloody animal to keep it from moving, it's not good when you blink and something is suddenly behind you in that space of time.

Well, I haven't actually read it yet (it'd been sitting on my bookshelf since I brought it back from Florida), but Faith and Fire by James Swallow gets a glowing recommendation by my dad. He apparently took it with him while hunting, and was so engrossed that a doe managed to stroll pretty much unnoticed within ten yards of him, which is saying something if you know my dad.

In other news, I just thought I'd reiterate that I'm a big fan of community integration. That is whether on a, say, inter-city level such as The Frank Show being broadcast in both Tucson and Reno - allowing a caller from one city to offer a caller from the other city a job. Or, the head instructor at the east-side dojo's manner of reaching out to the community in the immediate area of the school, such as setting up self-defense workshops at apartment complexes. Or, in a kind of converse of that, the diner wherein the community comes to a center in a kind of forum cum social cum haggling center. Or, in an artistic way, promotion of local music and events through, say, the community radio station. Not really going to go into reasons why, right now, just that it's something I'm into.

-on sci-fi leading characters: "Theirs would be without the standard white guy lead whose name starts with "J" (James T. Kirk, John Crichton, John Sheridan (Babylon 5), Jeffrey Sinclair, Jonathan Archer, Jack O'Neill (Stargate), John Sheppard (Stargate), J. Koenig, J. Robinson, Jean-Luc Picard, Jeremiah (series))."
--I'd never made that connection; I also find it funny that I recognize all but two of those.

things of note! from the weekend! apparently it will be an institution.
-I have officially smacked a cop upside the head; I just hope that, in doing so, I haven't gotten rid of a get-out-of-jail-free card I might have had, if she pulls me over
-who knew a U.S. Marine could do Brittney Spears' 'Toxic' so well? Complete with a stripper dance against a pole and everything, it was hot...and vaguely disturbing
-'Fever' is officially hands down the hottest karaoke song ever, beating out the former 'Smooth Operater' and 'I Touch Myself'
-as much as 'Bye Bye' by Jo Dee Messina gets stuck in my head every time I hear it, I like it, so it's all good
-the hot wings at the Depot will try to kill you, and/or make your mouth the ninth circle of hell...or whichever one is fiery, I forget
-people who look like they're randomly having spasms might actually be talking in sign language; or randomly having spasms, that too
-two-year-olds can have upper body strength that is surprising...and mohawks...and point out exactly where their 'yam sack' is
-mmm, yorkshire pudding. next step: try it will sweetness! perhaps cloudberry jam....
-and I feel kind of bad for the people that live next to the Depot; if they didn't hear the entire (filled) bar singing (yelling) 'Bohemian Rhapsody,' they must have had earplugs in
-you know your town's football team might not be doing to well when the head coach is on commercials making jokes about having to skip town after the season's over

Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, with Will Ferrell, and as Ms Kim pointed out, that girl from The Wedding Date. Unlike whatever that soccer movie with Ferrell was, this one was not a disgusting waste of time; it was actually pretty fun. Yes, it was stupid, but we were laughing nigh the entire time. Though I suspect it's one of those movies that might be even more fun to quote than to watch - for instance, the vet clinic at Sunrise and Swan is about to be a very funny place for a while, I expect

another poem rough, once again, the formatting might not carry through...

Impersonal
-
The rear-view mirror is telling me a story,
a window from the miniature world inside my car
to the miniature world inside another.

It's a monotone day
(white overcast and gray)
and the air is flat.

And he slouches, sullen,
listless and dark,
and she stares forward, fixed,
static.

But she raises their hands (fingers entwined)
to her lips; she smiles slow,
and his eyes change.
---
The night is dull, or maybe it's me
feeling like I'm looking through
someone else's eyes.

The intersection is lit green, the color's
a mist I probably would have gone through
anyway, were it red.

I would have killed him.

He's slouching quickly on the crosswalk
as if there's no crimson glowing hand
begging him to stay;
the truck before me swerves and skids-

But he looks up as I pass, eye contact
like barbs; rust dark hurt
catching in my throat.

another interesting quote:
"Any moment of pain is ultimately bearable. What is unbearable is to project the pain into time, to add up how many minutes it has been going on, to wonder how much longer it will last or how much more we can take. To think about time in this way is in itself suffering."

interesting paragraph (the mention of adrenaline seems a bit extreme, but it gets the point across):
"Many people, so used to living in the dramatic world they create, feel uncomfortable when confronted with the prospect of a lifetime of peace and contentment. The drama in their lives serves multiple purposes. Upset causes excitement, prompting the body to manufacture adrenaline, which produces a pleasurable surge of energy. For those seeking affection in the form of sympathy, drama forms the basis of their identity as a victim. And when drama is familial, many people believe they can avoid abandonment by continuing to play a key role in the established family dynamic. The addiction to drama is fed by the intensity of the feelings evoked during bouts of conflict, periods of uncertainty, and upheaval."

Radio news: "A powerful car bomb blew the roof off a car and launched the windshield over forty-foot trees into a swimming pool." - ten points to Tucson for being aweso; not only do we blow up cars, we do it with panache

Here's to Pat! He's basically in charge of getting stuff we're shipping out put on to trucks. I don't know much about him besides that he's a great proponent of beer as a nutritional item, is archetypically ornery and sun-conditioned and tattoo'ed, and is a Vietnam vet, but it's really a 'here's to Pat' on account of his wit. This guy has the fastest, sharpest wit of anyone I've met, no joke; the closest second I can think of is Mr Andrew while he's in the zone, and that is a close second, but still, Pat can be just plain astonishing. He whips stuff out of nowhere, bouncing stuff off the most banal of statements, and even when he's angry he's never mean about it, which I consider his highest accomplishment. Fifty points, Pat!

In other news, I put a deluge of new photos up (and I also wanted to use the word deluge, if somewhat improperly...and apparently make up another word, as well). Twenty points to whoever learns me what kind of spider that greenling is!

Things of Note! upon a labor day weekend.
-apparently sesame shrimp is a very, very bad idea.
-the original Clerks was funny, of course, but not hilarious in the same way Clerks II is, we realized - still need the first to laugh at the second, though.
-if you get up at four in the morning, it's easy to be surprised at around 9:30am as you, thinking it's lunchtime, happily eat a caesar salad...woo disorientation
-a little known fact: dogs can actually powerslide. no joke.
-it's cool to see a really well trained dog do its thang on an agility course, as the handler barely has to move, or even speak, while the dog bolts around like zoom
-sometimes the dog, however, will turn and bark at the person - best anyone can figure out, it sure seems like the dog is getting frustrated that the human isn't keeping up and telling them what to do next - yay interspecies yelling at each other!
-I think it would be cool for if the tunnel obstacles in agility trials were actually underground tunnels in some spots; it would be fun to see the dog disappearing and popping up randomly
-it would also be cool if they used tunnels in human races as well, so we could run up the sides of curved walls and whatnot; hell, I'd watch 'Obstacle Course' in the Olympics, that would be fun
-when it's proved over again that Tucson really is the biggest small town ever, it's not usually to have to listen for rotating-between-people hours worth of self-centered complaints and commentary...usually

Unrelatedly, Owen and Mzee

The Illusionist, with Ed Norton, Paul Giamatti, and Jessica Biel. One, the flipping-the-coin method is to be officially abolished as a method of choosing which movie to watch - don't trust its beguiling, flippy witchcraft! And two, I'm really not sure why this movie seems to be getting the good reviews it's getting. For one thing, I noted that it said, 'based on the short story...' That's short story. Not 'excessively drawn-out movie that goes on way too long.' I mean, I'll admit we were a bit disillusioned, as we thought we were going to see The Prestige, but had gotten the two movies confused, but we thought, hey, this has Ed Norton, it might be good. Yeah no. What might have been solid had it been short and focused maintaining an outside-perspective of that old school Mage: the Ascension-style magick - that is, leaving the story ambiguous as to the supernatural nature of the given act, and even and especially as to the outcome - was instead a banally archetypical story that relied upon being clever, when it wasn't really.

Invincible, with Mark Wahlberg and Greg Kinnear. This movie, on the other hand, was quite solid, even in being a simple, archetypical underdog/sports story - it didn't have any illusions as to what it was or was trying to do, and was more honest and the stronger for that. Sure, everyone can pretty much guess exactly what's going to happen, when the encouraging words are going to be said, etc, etc. But I thought there was a surprising amount of effort put into subtly delving the economic situation concurrent to the story, and how sports played into that; hell, in a few small ways, I was way more concerned with the mental/emotional plight of the city-characters than with the football situation.

Horus Rising, by Dan Abnett. Reason #17 why Abnett is one of my favorite authors: he actually pulled this novel off. I was kind of wary of the idea of taking the origin story of what had been an already admittedly rich and complex setting, and actually trying to make a novel out of it. That is, to story-tell it and give voice to the characters, rather than to read it like a distanced docu-epic, didn't seem a possible thing to do without just turning...disappointing.

But by golly. I mean, it wouldn't make sense to anyone not versed in the setting, but what was a relatively black and white affair before has become a personal, tragic thing in my mind - I mean, this one novel changes the nature of every other story I've read that's based on that setting. Of course, Abnett's incredibly cinematic style and developed, layered characters (especially in a setting where it's incredibly hard not to de-humanize characters) were a great help, and furthermore his interesting tact of adapting the idea of the embedded journalist to the gothic setting. It's not light reading, to emphasize - it's definitely a tragedy...I actually found myself thinking something like, "Oh, no, please no no no...." often, even though I knew the eventual outcome, like Anakin/Darth Vader style. But this is much better.

A nice article on satya, or 'truth' (but not exactly), in a way closely related to one of my favorite things - tact

Isn't 'to fall in love' an interesting phrase? For whatever reason I heard it the other day in conjunction with someone discoursing on Lucifer 'falling' and becoming Satan. Mind, I'm not driving at some cheap love=evil analogy, here, but rather about the general idea of falling from something 'pure' (an angelic state?) to something...not pure? Well, no, I don't even like that analogy - I guess what I would go with is the question, if you were to fall in love with someone, would you be willing to fall from Grace for them, if you were an angel? That's the analogy I wanted.

Wow, the first paragraph describing shrikes kind of disturbed me....it's so menacing, and the bird looks so small and cute.

Ok, one, I could watch this guy train all day (especially check out, say, the first demonstration video, and his adroitness at evading and using the Muay Thai shield principle). Two, I want a BOB. For Christmas or my birthday...or..uh...autumn, I don't care.

Our Lady of Seven Sorrows is a long, but cool poem; it's what the Lady of Pain in Planescape is based upon, interestingly, though I'm not sure the one person I think might get that reference will read this, but hey. Mmm..okay wait maybe a couple of people will. Eh whatever.

--A poem! Though it's rough, and was written all in one quick burst. Had to get something on this topic out of the way, though, it was blocking me from writing about more recent things [damn! can't get the tabs to work...I'll try to fix that later]---

Fever
-
Flame.
My body, my muscles,
something deeper and inherent
had been set
on fire.

It was contained within my skin, though –
the tears it distilled from my eyes
were cold in their rivulets on my cheeks.

Please, I begged.
Knowing the answer, I pleaded.
I knew I was really only whispering
to my self; she'd already walked away.
Please, I begged.

Tears, a soaking rain
that washed broken life,
that washed identity from me,
until there was nothing of me left;

until I slept.

-here, watch skilled technician Denis Kang of Grapple Arts fame submits Amar Suloev with finesse- kind of a big deal, as Suloev had just beaten Bustamente, of all people

-Pick a number!

So I learned the interesting term ekphrastic by way of Ms Abby, and a random ol' memory occurred to me. Probably one of the first poems I ever wrote, way back when in...it would have had to have been seventh grade, was in this strange sort of 'gifted' program which really seemed an excuse to goof off for a period. Nonetheless, we made solid efforts in creative writing, and I remember us coming up with some good stuff; that is, my idyllic seventh grade memories say so, anyway, I'm sure it was complete crap. Anyway, one day I wrote what I considered to be my magnum opus at the time, a long, bardic kind of poem about a slaves in a fantasy novel I was reading. The teacher thought it interesting and asked whether it was about the Underground Railroad or somesuch. When I explained the actual subject matter to the teacher, he quickly dismissed my poem as anything noteworthy; obviously, the harsh travails of the characters I wrote of weren't much, but in my mind, hey, at least I knew about that - should I have been attempting writing about real experiences of people long dead that I knew I'd never truly understand?

Either way, in your face, teacher of yore! This is me writing 'ekphrastic' on your forehead. Figuratively speaking.

Guest Poetry Showcase! As I don't have anything new right now, though I'm filled with the urge to write, in getting a relative wealth of poetry shared with me in the past couple days, from several people.

Innocence and Inspiration

Sunrise like any other
But by sunset, everything changed
Pangaea splitting, making worlds
One moment, admiring the foliage
The next, spicy juice slithering down the wrist
One crisp clean bite

The avalanche starts leisurely
Pebbles skitter
Like foam before a wave
Then a wall of dust
Obscuring the leviathan
Boulders follow, dry rattling,
Bone gears clicking into motion.

A deluge of
Dust and ash and bone and verve.
A phoenix of particles
Complexification of thought
Architecture of collapse
And reformation

We may have lived before
But we weren't alive
Until after that
First bite.

-in this poem, note the arc from organic/life to inorganic and back, and layered along with that the cinematic zooming in and out from the allegoric moment in the opening and closing stanzas (that's my inner English major coming out)

I think they should do this before football games; imagine it with all the pads and whatnot, and the differences in size between the linebackers and say the kicker. I think it would add a whole different element to the game; I'd personally be more interested and less inclined to slide into thinking of them as just highly paid bumper cars. Or if they did in volleyball (mmm...so hot...) or, uh, badminton. That would also be crazy.

That said, go Bengals and Falcons! Hoorah!

I haven't actually had a chance to look at it, but Let's Say Thanks sounds like a good idea in theory, to support our military - trusting Ms Nicole on this one.

In other news, Ms Kim taught me how to hold a leash properly, as it would probably be embarassing to have my shoulder dislocated by a large dog at a show. Apparently it's like holding a horse's reins, so I guess I know how to do that kind of as well, now (I suddenly feel like a gunslinger!) [ok, not really but anyway], though I really couldn't describe it in text. I guess my old wrapping around wrist and forearm method was fine with my family's mellowest-springer-spaniel-ever, but wouldn't quite cut it for, say, a mastiff. Yikes.

I just liked the 'bring it'-ness of this photo

First off, Life in Transit, by Our Man in Seattle (hee I always wanted to be able to use that phrase), Mr Andrew! Smart and snappy, in the land of...uh....coffee and rain. And apparently people randomly breakdancing. Mmm...coffee and rain....and breakdancing...

Randoms from the Weekend (tempted to make this an institution):
-moving stuff from one storage unit to another, lugged a bunch of Mr Wyatt's rocket stuff. As I was carrying the exquisitely shaped (though now broken) nozzle of the famous Precision 1, something finally clicked about rocketry to me. That is, how what I had previously just thought of as cold, impersonal engineering is directed towards not only harnessing, but also shaping something akin to raw energy. I mean, it's one thing to take a crowbar and manipulate solid matter, but another entirely to cut out a starburst pattern in a solid propellant, ignite liquid oxygen down the middle, and direct it out of a graphite nozzle built upon mathematical beauty-in-perfection. It's like alchemy combined with sculpture-with-function.
-then I started looking at a windshield while driving, which struck me as I was looking at solid matter, now, but I could see straight through it - so was I looking at what was beyond the glass, or at the glass itself? Similarly, when I look at the mirrors, am I looking at the reflection....or at the surface of the mirror itself, that has taken on the quality of the reflection in my eyes?
-a blueberry champagne martini might be drinkable...if it's not composed almost entirely of vodka. Pomegranate-cranberry is tastier anyway.
-what's with two different people showing up over an hour late to two different going-away parties? That were for them? Seriously, people. I narrow my eyes at you.
-is it bad that I'm tempted to think about a shaped, faint scar (spiral) made by a kind of branding on a cute gal I met, in light of doing it? Probably.
-Home Depot, while generally aweso, will try to deceive you with their delivery charges! "Free plus haul-away" for over $299...but if a washer and dryer are over $299 combined, it doesn't count, one of them has to be over that price. Trickery!
-getting slammed into a brick wall is not necessarily that bad; just get some meat with a high cover between your head and the wall, or shape your body with a vertically-aligned breakfall (or both, as I did on the weekend, and was luckily protected as well by the slam-er).
-and really, was anyone surprised that Chuck Liddell only had a quick little fight? I've not heard the details, yet, but I have to say within the three days before and night of, the various random people I spoke to about it all predicted the same result.

Diary of a Mad Pigeon - blog of Mr Wyatt's Geopolitics teacher...nope, I still haven't really figured it out, either

"His verses, which being illiterate he never expressed in writing, often began with some strongly worded insult to get the attention of passers-by." - heh, in regards to my favorite Indian saint-poet

This paragraph'll pretty much make sense to Dark Tower devotees only, I think...which is basically me and Ms. Connie, but hey. There's these spindles at work, where every time I send a purchase order, I put it on one of them, and every time we receive what is ordered, I take the appropriate purchase order off. So basically, as much as I am kind of replenishing the spindles each time, all the same I'm continuously taking purchase orders off - but not in any particular order, for all the spindle is concerned, it's completely randomly being depleted. So I thought, if the spindle was a little world unto itself (thinking of the end of the first novel in the series, here), it would be analagous to Roland's Mid-World, in how it's contantly moving on, as it were. Though I guess it could also be an example of Theseus' Paradox, now that I think about it, completely unrelatedly.

For Ms. Feifei, an explanation of my semi-nonsensical flickr labels –

Basically, different languages, appropriate meanings of female names...
Zahrah - Arabic/blooming flower; the flower set, natch
Acantha - Greek/thorn; basically cacti reproductive organs
Klytie - nymph who loved the sun unrequitedly, transformed into sun-following flower (heliotrope); that’s poetic for ‘sunsets are kewl’
Nephele - fem created from a cloud by Zeus; I was kinda proud of that one, actually, vapor, smoke, and vapor-related activities
Midori - Japanese/green; though I can’t help but think of the similarly named drink, plants without the flower aspect
Nawara - Arabic/'to illuminate'; just trying to be artsy with light
Shailaja - Sanskrit/daughter of the mountain; mmm tasty landscapes
Eshe - Swahili/life; yeah I had trouble coming up with that one, the fauna set
Promethia – a play on Prometheus, who brought fire, etc; things created by human thought and hands
Ngaio – Maori/from the name of a tree; um….well, trees.
Enosha – a play on Enosh = Hebrew/’human being’; as hesitant as I am to take people photos, I decided to put some up anyway
Berie – Old English/berry; fruit! And possibly other food pictures in the future….mmm so hungry…

-and, in other news, last night was the first night I've had a police helicopter's spotlight on me. And I just tried a 'taco de cabeza'...quite tasty, actually. Though I'm a tiny bit worried over mad cow disease, heh.

Oh man, I wish I had my camera. Going to grab Lisa and I lunch at Wendy's (mmm spicy bird meat), there was a beautiful cloud system with at least four distinct types of formations, then to the south was just an ominously massive thunderhead. If last night was any indication (I had run around 4th Ave and the UA in and out of the leading edge of the lightning-ridden storm) going by Debbie being blocked by fallen foliage from getting to work and Lisa's neighbor's house getting smashed by the same, looks like part of the valley is going to be hit by microbursts again. Fun, monsoon times!

A Tale of Two Sisters (Janghwa, Hongryeon), with...dang, I'm not so good with foreign actors, uh, Korean people. Last night I was kind of comparing this movie in its unreliable narrator-ness and identity issues to Mulholland Drive, though upon reading the wiki entry for it, I think as that article points out Fight Club is perhaps a more apt comparison. In the end, I think I decided I liked this movie...though it took reading the wiki entry to confirm theories and that I really didn't miss what were details that were actually left out to solidify that. I though it was quite effective as a pyschological thriller/horror film, and some of the shots from the opening one on were downright artistic, but I was actually a little frustrated at times by the lack of information. I can't figure out why I was frustrated by it here, where I've been fascinated by that in other movies, though. Maybe I had a phantom 'ache or something.

I did think about how it's funny how horror movies kind of seep into one's perception of reality even after they're over, though. For example, a house I normally walk around confidently in the dark suddenly became hollow and creepy and filled with dark corners, and the hairs on the back of my neck were rising...till I stopped and consciously re-asserted what my senses were actually perceiving, not what my movie-affected mind was imposing.

I'd try this here but I'm sure a Mexicana would stick one in my eye

Proof of dark matter? This, my friends, is no laughing matter. Heh...yeah that wasn't even a pun. Oy.

-in other news, I'm grandly reorganizing my flickrspace; each set was getting too diverse within itself for my tastes

random comments on the weekend:
-I need to learn to play darts. That was just embarrassing.
-Why, oh why, would you put an olive in beer? I understand it might fit with the ironic theme of a bar, but ew!
-Russian Banana = liquid banana split. Alas, I didn't want to be sick, so didn't really drink mine.
-Well, apparently Jill and I are the only ones to like that London Bridge song that Fergie does, as even Lisa is astonished that I think it anything but stupid. Hmph. Still, it was perfect to have it play on the radio as got to the London Bridge...at least I thought so, no one else in the truck did (though I appreciate Kim's effort, mad props to crazy dancing).
-Flip flops with bottle openers on bottom? What the hell?
-Aussie shepherds = super intelligent. Cats named Godzilla = just funny.
-Finding differences between photos always annoyed me...till I found out it's fun with cute girls to team up with, and a time limit is set on it
-Nouveau riche x white trash = shady + tacky, to the nth.....black shag carpet, framed playboys, a (very literal) home theatre, and a baby of uncertain parentage playing on said carpet - enough said.
-Fish swimming upside-down = creepy...despite the humorous, gaseous reason behind it. I mean, according to the general semantic aspect of an upside-down fish, that would basically make it a zombie fish by principle, right?

Boxing Helena, with Julian Sands and Sherilyn Fenn. And directed by the daughter of David Lynch - ah ha! I was right. Kind of. Anyway, this is kind of a rip-off of The Collector, by John Fowles, in terms of general plot, but given an 1980s veneer replete with wealth and egotism. That, and unfortunately the characters were nowhere near as fleshed out (kind-of pun not intended), and nothing like Fowles' famous switching of perspective was even hinted at. There was a lot of unsubtle imagery and metaphoric stuff going on, so it would be easy to write an essay about for a class or something, I suppose, what with statues missing limbs and obvious archetypal characters (mmm, 80s macho man, oh yeah). As much as this is the closest I've come to actually picking out a good movie for a movie night (its badness was luckily mitigated by our running commentary and Ms. Kim being an awesome girlfriend what with the apple pie), just go read The Collector. Hell I might go read it again.

Secondary commentary: we thought it was funny that a good portion of this movie was Skinemax all the way, so if you're looking for some very, very cheap thrills and willing to accept the absurdity and bad acting for some interesting visuals, then maybe rent this movie.

-one of the more practical yoga articles I've read lately, interesting to think of when running into an emotional issue

-if you know me and you saw this, you'd know I'd immediately want to try it

Resurrection, by Paul Kemp. This is the final book in the War of the Spider Queen, and but damn, I was actually satisfied with a conclusion (versus the general opinion of say, the third Matrix). I mean, maybe I didn't like what happens to some of the charaters because I particularly liked them, but I thought at least they ended well, for the most part. This is one of those books/series I could go on and on about, so I'll cut myself off with mentioning the espionage, intrigue, dom/sub 'romance,' tense swordplay, clever magic duels, and a huge amount of depth and complexity in all sorts of gender and ethical themes for beer+pretzel fantasy.

Nightwatch (Nochnoy Dozor), with...Russian people. Mmm, yeah, probably this is going in the box to take to Bookman's - lesson learned, probably don't go by recommendations by ex-girlfriends. I thought this movie had a lot of potential going by the trailer and general concept, and it did end up having an assortment of cool moments. Unfortunately, I'd say those moments were mired in a mess of confusion in plot and holes in background information (and not in a good way, like Pulse). I would have been a lot happier if the movie had gone a lot further in one direction or another - horror, action, conceptual thriller...hm. Maybe I'll watch it again when I'm less tired, it was pretty late at night when we put it on - I suppose it did win awards in Russia, maybe I just wasn't in the right mood to watch it or something. Or maybe I should have just watched it with some wodka.

New rolling drills! Courtesy of Hugh and Martial Science...er...still not sure exactly what to call it. Anyway. The interesting contrast between how he was trained and how we used to train at Ko Sho is in the further development of rolls - the basic idea is the nigh exactly the same, but in these new drills specific attributes are trained one by one. The trick with the old Ko Sho way of teaching is that it would just be the basic technique, and then any furthering of attributes lost the basic technique in (sloppily) straining for the attribute - with these, if the basic technique is not maintained, knotted shoulders and faceplanting results.

-for timing, there's rolling past a sword swung back and forth and low to the
ground, and then up and down in a vertical plane, then an alternation of the two; seems mind-numbingly simple, but can be annoying, initially
-for distance, the roll is done past an object that is moved a little further away each time; we were surprised at the distance we could achieve, more than we thought possible
-for height there's jumping over a sword held horizontally (Hugh could do chin-high gracefully), and conversely there's extending and...well, morphing a roll to fit under the same, held lower and lower; for the former, like the distance drill it's great for teaching controlling the initial contact with the ground with the arms held at a proper 45 and flowing into the roll, and for the latter, it starts to teach deciding how and when to contort the body, for example by elongating and yet keeping the roll tight
-for diving, there's leaping through a 'window' composed of two swords held horizontally; again, it's interesting to learn to consciously decide when to shift the body's form, this time in mid-air
--of course, with any contact with the obstacles in question, there's a recquisite ten pushups, natch

So, basically, that's a whole lot of new (and yet old, in a sense) skills to develop. Which is totally awesome. It really is interesting to see how much every single one of those drills is practically ninety percent mental, as we could all do the individual things fine....it was just the fear/hesitation/not believing in ourselves that would hinder us, and it was obvious that was the only issue.

Random trivia of the day, from wiki - the native mammal fauna of Puerto Rico consists exclusively of bats! Of course, upon further reading, it's revealed that there were other little thangs like rodents and such that are now extinct, but imagine taking that statement entirely wrong and picture Bat Island. Like King Kong, but with wings. Or Hitchcock's Birds, but with fruitbats stealing your mangos. Why yes, I am that badass at coming up with ideas, thank you.

So I stop by my family’s house the other day, and go to get the mail. Next to mailbox is a cholla that has nice, dark red blossoms, so I go to take a picture of it. Noticing a bee, I think hey bee+flower=nice photo. Then I notice the bee isn’t moving. Thinking that strange, I lean in real, real close….then gasp and draw away, as a quarter-sized collection of legs shifts languidly. Who ever heard of a green spider? In any case, for some reason, just standing near the thing was kind of creeping me out, whether by it unexpectedly shifting into existence a few centimeters from my eyeball (at least by my perception, in how it perfectly mimicked the green of the cactus and its legs, the needles, and how it seemed to float in midair) or by the fact that I’d never seen its ilk before.

Ok, this commentary is going to be SPOILER-ific if anyone actually cares to go see that Pulse movie I wrote of below, so don’t read it if you want to see it!

I was thinking of (not sure if it’s a Buddhist or yogic thing) the tenet that one way of looking at suffering in the abstract sense is that it is generated by the feeling of separation – whether from one’s own self, or socially, or even separation from an object that one desires – all different levels of the same thing, basically. In Pulse, the invading ghosts drive/cajole/compel (depending on who you ask) people to separate themselves more and more, in effect acting like an external ego that’s imposing itself upon them, going by this idea:
"This compulsive mind constructs a separate sense of self, often called the ego, that's trapped in a world of psychological time, surrounded by other separate selves that threaten its survival. It then invents the spiritual search and other self-improvement schemes as an attempt to escape the trap it has created for itself."

Like the dots in the grad students allegorical program, as much as they're naturally repulsed, they’re also drawn to the ghost as a dark parody of that natural urge towards ‘spirituality’ (no pun intended), except the ghost is no solution, but the trap itself. The ghost is then keeping the person out of the overflowing afterlife-dimension by trapping them in an extreme of ego-separation - forever, in that ‘psychological time’, which leads into this idea, as a contrast:

"...time is merely a creation of the mind, and only the Now exists. When we awaken to our identity with this timeless dimension, the problem with finding a balance between doing and being drops away as the separate self-sense dissolves, and all that's left is simply life living itself."

Pulse, to me, is a twisted version of that ideal (the zen state of contented being, aware of one’s connection to everything being connected). So when the people are driven to an opposite but yet similar version of that zen state – they’re completely separated from everyone, and yet have still lost their sense of self at the point where they submit to the ghost and embrace it - they’re also in a timeless state. But not one that’s focused on a healthy understanding of ‘living by the moment,’ as it were, but one that leaves them trapped in an extreme of mind-creating-time – hence, they’re immortal in a sense, which is exactly what the invading ghosts desire, to keep them out of the afterlife-dimension.

***

Sounds like an intriguing story based on spirals

Kairo (Pulse), with...uh...a goofy guy that's easy to empathize with, and a pretty girl. Yeeaah, I don't know Japanese actors really, except for Kaneshiro Takeshi. Who definitely wasn't in this movie. I think. Anyway, ten points to Ms. Kim for having great taste in movies, I think I get schooled as much with her as I did in the grand ol' movie-watching days of literary theory. Kairo would have been great fodder for that class, and would have had people going to lunch after class to continue arguing about it, I'm sure. I don't want to inadvertantly create any spoilers by thinking 'out loud' in this forum (and this is a movie that does best without spoilers), but I'll probably see this movie again at some point, if only to figure out a little bit more of it. Creepy, and provocative, and atmospheric - it's slow, but that gives you time to figure out the puzzle of it, I guess.

Thoughts on Thinking - a quick little posit on a zen perspective on the nature of thought

Last week I stayed after class to meet a new instructor for the west-side school, who might be doing a Hapkido class. That hour and some of basically getting beat up was interesting in a few different ways.

For one, I'd forgotten how much of an etiquette there can be when martial artists (at least, the kind without inflated-ego problems like some have) meet each other. When this hapkido instructor and one of our higher-ranked instructors met, for example, even as they were listing multiple ranks and international lineages, there was still an overriding rule of modesty - there was no comparison or competition, just a stating of facts, with the assumption being that the other person would take the information for exactly what it was. My only contribution there, of course, was to insert myself at the very bottom of the Ko Sho lineage.

Then there was the interesting technical discussion as each instructor tried to get a handle on the other's art; I knew hapkido was basically a hybrid of Korean foot-fighting arts and Japanese joint-manipulation, but didn't realize how incredibly similar it is to our Tomiki aikido. Their teaching structure is interestingly a bit different, starting out with offensive joint manipulations, which I think is a great idea, and obviously their atemi includes a repetoire of high kicks, but for the most part a good many techiques are nigh the same, and not just in principle. My contribution there was to be the demonstration dummy (or, 'demo-bitch,' if you will). Ow.

One thing that caught my attention as well was how readily apparent it was to see how a school of thought could diffuse and change by teaching-culture. For example, while the hapkido seemed to have gained some things in mixing a relatively grappling/soft art with completely-offensive, hard striking arts, namely that offensive mindset and a certain flexibility (no pun intended, for anyone who might get that), in being separated from the 'source' and in becoming more technique based, some subtle-understanding was lost. That is, it was funny to see a light-bulb appear over the hapkido instructor's head concerning something he'd been doing for years, when our aiki-jujitsu instructor went, "No no, do it like this, because of this." Ding! So, our principle-based teaching may not be as refined, but we keep some information that is easily lost otherwise. Pros and cons on both sides, which might be rectified in bringing the arts full circle.

And lastly, I'll re-state the opinion, mostly coming from the east-side school, that grappling should be taught early and often, regardless of whether the student is primarily a striker. Besides that it's a royal pain in the ass to train with someone who's never done any and so is uncomfortable and fearful, or with someone who's only trained in full-contact with no regard for control (injury waiting to happen on both counts), the benefits garnered by having that basis in knowledge of continuous contact with the opponent are huge. For example, despite having never met, the instructors and I were able to practically discuss some things without even having to talk about it, because in grappling arts a great deal is dependent upon proprioceptive sensitivity, to oneself and to the other person - their body becomes part of one's own upon contact, for all intents and purposes.

Rent, with most of the original Broadway cast, apparently. I'll put this one in the column of 'musicals I did end up liking.' Actually, that said, I think I generally like most musicals I see, anyway. I'll be curious to see this one on stage when it comes to town, if only to see if I develop a similar man-crush on the character Angel, as I did on the one in the film. I'll maintain, tangentially, that at the moment anyway I still like musicals in a film media over stage musicals; I recognize my girlfriend and music-school cousin's opinions that good stage effects are more worthy of appreciation, but having little knowledge of the mechanics of those, I've got to go with appreciating the wider range of things film can do, with my better understanding of that.

Addendum - so, to keep in line with that earlier Rosario Dawson commentary, in my opinion she was not attractive at all in Sin City, very attractive in Clerks II, and kind of in the middle in Rent, leaning towards not as attractive in a sad way when her addict character loses weight.

Also, today is the anniversary of the Battle of Thermopylae - I just hope a pyrrhic victory doesn't appear at some point...

Wolves of the Calla, by Stephen King. My two favorite epics right now are Frank Herbert's Dune, and King's Dark Tower, I have to say; for a myriad of common and differing reasons, but the one that stands out is in how each story immediately affects my way of thinking as I read a part of each. In the case of Dune, it's mostly the segments where Bene Gesserit philosophy and teaching come into play; for example, I was impressed to learn in my thesis research how Herbert actually implemented some of the ideas from his last novel on his ranch in Washington, and it became a well-known model of ecologically-friendly self-suffecient living. In King's novel, it's the philosophy and behavior of the gunslingers that interests me the most, though I can't help but note how very, very similar it is at times to the Bene Gesserit of Dune.

Anyhoo, this novel lived up to the previous novels in the series admirably, natch. While at parts connecting to another of King's novels, interestingly creating an odd sort of shared setting, most of the novel plays out as a variant of Kurosawa's Seven Samurai, an oft-covered yarn I was happy to see done-over by King. I still haven't figured out how I feel about the (admittedly quite original, at least in my experience) metafiction aspect King slipped into the story, but it's a good kind of indecisiveness, especially in how (as usual) I was left with goosebumps at the end.

The Hills Have Eyes, with a cute little deformed girl played by the annoying cheerleader in that T-Mobile commercial. Wouldn't it be weird if the hills actually had eyes? Or hidden away in the hills there was just a big eye set into the soil, and as you rounded a corner it would shift to stare at you? How freaky would that be? Anyhoo, while not particularly scary, I thought it was a well put-together film; the pacing kind of threw me a little, but I enjoyed the standard horror movie tables-turned segment.

Almost Famous, with a bunch of almost famous people. Ha, ha, except that doesn't really work. Anyway, I've not much to say about this movie, actually, it was just a generally solid film, all-around. Umm...yep, kind of drawing a blank. Except for, "I'M ON DRUGS!!!"

Intermediate Pilates, with Ana Caban. I'll be repeating this one, rather than selling it back to Bookman's; as with most times I've done pilates, I thought it really wasn't much of a workout at first, and it's really not. Rather, I do notice a definite improvement in my posture and...just comfort in standing or sitting nice and upright, afterwards. This dvd has two workouts, one faster and a bit more strenuous, the other slower and more instructional - but in the end, I'd say the most is gotten out of it if both are done one right after the other.

tiny motor - that's up there in being worth a try with the BB gun shenanigans

Hostel, with Jay Hernandez and Derek Richardson. Well, for one I was actually kind of disappointed, in a strange way - I thought there would be much more, and more of a variety of violence and depravity. I guess, as Ms. Kim said, had the movie not been talked up so much in that regard we might have enjoyed it more, instead of it falling short of built-up expectations. In a sense, it was kind of like a bad kung fu movie, with a minimal plot only serving to provide a context for the sex and gore, and in that sense is probably enjoyable in a similar manner, at least.

Direct from Nate the Peace Corps dude, putting a strike-anywhere match in a BB gun! Actually, it didn't turn out to be that big of a deal, it kind of made a little spark that would probably be kind of cool at night, and a 'snap!' I was a bit surprised it actually worked, though. I'm more interested in trying some of his other suggestions, such as putting a noodle of the proper diameter in a BB gun (supposedly it'll hammer through surprising materials) and making little grenados out of the cardboard tube that goes on a coat hanger.

In other news, my first attendance of a fetish ball was pretty fun. It was a much quieter affair than I had expected it to be, though why I had some conception in my mind that it would be a loud, rave environment I've no idea. Mostly just people walking around, complimenting each other's outfits, and chatting. I was quite disappointed in my own outfit (a snafu involving mixed up leather pants and a lack of makeup), but that notwithstanding, some improvised electrical tape and borrowed boots was serviceable enough to generate compliments. The patio was well stocked with hookahs, the stage alternated between some pretty rocking metal bands and shows such as a woman hanging from several hooks.

In the banquet area were several tables selling jewelry and other accoutrements, and a smaller stage that was showing softcore sex shows and bellydancers dancing to old White Zombie songs. There was also a creepy obese guy offering free shoe shining or foot massages, and a few guys in Hawai'ian shirts just grinning like idiots and taking pictures. We quickly figured out there was sort of an etiquette for photos, wherein it wasn't really polite to just take a photo of people unless you looked like a pro-photographer, but it was polite if you were in the photo with the people. So, no artsy photos unfortunately, but if anyone wants to see, just leave a comment and I'll share the snapfish album.

Cool Sol picture found by Wyatt

So, a couple people's voices here at work just completely get on my nerves. I've no idea why, I don't particularly have anything against the people themselves, but ye gods, as soon as I hear their voice on the phone or in person I just want to smack them across the mouth. I don't know if it's something in their inflection or cadence of speech or what; for at least one of the people, I know it's not just me that's affected that way. It's really weird, like a subtlepain that's not exactly aural...*shrug*

Clerks II, with the Clerks cast and Rosario Dawson, and that dude from Alias. Actually, I enjoyed it more than I expected to; I remember thinking the original was funny, but sequels aren't often to get excited about. I did like this sequel, though; Kevin Smith reclaimed Dawson for me in having her be utterably adorable, as opposed to her role in Sin City, which I could barely stand. Besides the groan-worthy and yet snappy humor, and the always fun Jay and Silent Bob, one of my favorite archetypical romances was used, which always makes a story a winner for me.

Not much to say about it, just an interesting little blurb on developmental stages

I'm not sure what comment to make on this, maybe it's just more an observation. So Free Dominguez has moved on from the Kidneythieves to do independent stuff, Melissa Kaplan has done the same from Splashdown, and Imogen Heap has done the same after Frou Frou. Yay girl lead singers doing their own thing?

a unique and interesting weapon

Jujitsu at Ko Sho San: soon to be back in action! Hoorah! Anyway, we've decided to finally apply some karate-concepts of standards to the class, for several reasons, but mainly just to have it more organized - hopefully, we can retain the emphasis on principle over technique, however. In that regard, I'm thinking an overarching principle for each belt, and then a tripartite pathway - groundwork, standup, and drills - split between those belts as well. Here's my initial thought towards structuring:
Principles: need to put some thought into this, but off the top of my head in no particular order are creating a marriage, unbalancing, atemi, explosive vs relaxed, missing leg, ki, and posture.

Drills: backfist rolls, push-away-trap, Session, choreographed striking, falling/rolling, shooting

Groundwork: 5 basic pins, transitions and escapes, pins and strikes from each

Standup: tai sabaki, throws, standing locks, wrist manipulation (kote gaeshi)

So, for each belt, say a principle, a pin (escaping+holding), a throw, a standing lock for each belt; drills scattered throughout, as they're basic and can be filler.
Opinions and suggestions welcome!

eye asanas